Stray // Daryl Dixon

Part Two: Too Far Gone

Chaos, that's the only word I could use to describe it. There was no plan for this type of attack. Our people were running around frantically, some trying to defend and hold off the Governor's army and others were just trying to get whoever they could to the bus. My eyes scanned the vicinity, I stood on the outskirts of the courtyard. The tank was just rolling up to the courtyard fences, the treads crushing the chain-link gates like an ant under someone's shoe. My body reacted to the sound of the tank shooting off another shell into the prison walls. The same walls that housed some of our people on the other side. I needed a weapon.

I could see Maggie and Beth huddled behind the bus, they were arguing before Maggie handed her gun to Beth and sprinted back to the prison entrance. My eyes then trailed to my left, Tyreese stood behind the barbeque under our dining tent as he shot at the enemy that took cover behind their tank. Sasha and Bob had their guns propped up on one of our trucks as they laid down cover fire for those filtering out of the prison and onto the bus. Then my eyes landed on Daryl, who knelt down behind a propped-up picnic table.

I jumped out of my skin when the sound of the fence rattling behind me caught me off guard. I spun on my heels as a walker linked its mangled fingers into the holes in the fence. At least ten more trailed behind, a herd of them stumbling out of the forest as the noise from the gunfire drew them towards us.

"Daryl!" I shouted, finally moving my feet towards some cover. He didn't hear me at first, but I must have caught the corner of his eye from the speed I was running at him. He had his gun propped up on top of his shoulder, the barrel of it resting on the wood of the picnic table. He shifted his eyes towards me, a panicked expression flashing across his face as his gaze met mine.

"Scar--" he shouted. Before I could process that he was giving me a warning I felt a hard tug on the back of my tank top, the seams of my shirt ripping in two as I was yanked to the ground and onto my back. I coughed as the wind knocked out of my lungs, a dark figure standing over me and blocking the sun from my face. My vision finally focused when I realized I was staring up at the barrel of a gun. On instinct, I rolled to my left, only milliseconds before the bullet lodged into the pavement beside my head. The minute I looked up at the man Daryl's bullet entered his chest, a pool of blood seeping out through his shirt around the wound before he dropped to the floor.

I got back to my feet, finally taking cover behind the picnic table with Daryl. I panted heavily as I tried to suck in as much air as I could to regain my breath.

"The hell you go?" Daryl asked as he quickly took off his signature angel-winged biker's vest and handed it to me for some sort of a shirt.

"Does it matter? I'm here now," I said as I threw the vest over me, "Do you have another gun?"

Daryl reached over to his belt, pulling a Glock from its holder. He placed it in my hands before he reloaded his own weapon. I peeked through the space between the table and the bench, focusing my line of sight on those who took cover behind the tank as they continued to push forward. Every five minutes or so the tank would fire off another shell causing the ground to rumble and your instincts couldn't help but cause your body to quiver as the sound made your ears ring before the rubble of the prison walls blew out and disperse around you. I managed to take out two women who were ill-trained with a weapon before another explosion went off, each time making me lose my focus as I ducked my head for cover.

"We're too far out in the open, we need to get to the bus!" I shouted to Daryl, trying to make myself heard over the noise of the gunfire. I glanced over to where the bus sat on the opposite end of the courtyard, watching as Maggie carried a very ill Glenn into the vehicle. It looked as if the bus was nearly full at this point.

"Okay, come on," he responded. He got to both of his feet, darting out from behind the table as he remained low while rapid firing in the direction of the Governor's people. I followed close behind, repeating the same actions. We got to the dining tent where Tyreese previously held cover. Our water jug spilled out all the liquid as it had been punctured with multiple bullet holes.