Stray // Daryl Dixon

Let the Angels Commit

One walker on my back, and two walkers coming from my left. My ears rang, blocking out any noise around me, but I could feel its finger digging into my collarbones. I was lightheaded from the force it took to cut through bone. I stared down at my trembling hands covered in blood, real human blood. My mind couldn't make sense of anything, the world through my eyes was moving in slow motion.

My gaze drifted up from my hands and onto Oliver. I could see him crying as he held pressure on Juliet's stump with his flannel, yet there wasn't a sound making it to my ears. Paul hunched over behind him heaving up last night's dinner from the scene. Then my eyes darted across the room to look for the others. They were all cornered. The group couldn't hold them off, they were too inexperienced. The lavish life inside the Woodbury walls hindered their survival skills. I had seven people with me yet I felt alone. Each of them, a small anchor attached to my foot.

My own survival skills kicked in. The sound of the walker behind me grew louder in my ears, its hot breath hitting the back of my neck and sending chills down my spine. I threw my head backwards, the back of my skull making contact with the walker's face and throwing it off of me. I got to my feet, taking the two walkers out coming from my left. I got Roni out first, taking down one of the walkers that trapped her by the wall. She swung her arm back, having room to her right to take out the other two.

"Derek, throw me the gun!" I shouted as he stumbled backwards, away from the walkers chasing him.

I was risking it. The group was flustered, with this many walkers closing in at once their hand-to-hand combat was no match. On top of that, the one person with a gun had no aim himself, most of Derek's bullets hitting the walkers in the chest and only drawing more to us. But this was my only hope of getting these people out of here alive.

Derek tossed the Glock to me. I caught it in the air, popping the slide backwards and into place in one quick motion. I steadied the weapon, aiming for my target. I hit the trigger, one bullet flying through the skull of one walker's head and making contact with the second walker on the other side of it. The bodies hit the concrete in unison. I turned to my right, shooting down the four walkers that Rigs was fighting off. Each bullet was lodged in the centre of the back of their skulls.

Being free of their troubles, the three of them went back to taking on one walker at once. I now did a 360, aiming for the walkers that filtered in through the front door. With only one bullet left and five walkers stumbling through as I emptied the magazine. Just as I slipped my knife back out from my pocket, switching weapons, four gunshots went off. The sound of the AK rippling through the warehouse. The walkers dropped, piling up by the entrance. A small figure stood in the shadow of the door frame.

I stumbled backwards, all the air leaving my body as the largest wave of relief washed over me. I couldn't see the figure's face, the moonlight cascading over their head and shadowing any recognition. But standing at only 5'2 and wearing that all too familiar sheriff's hat, I knew it couldn't be anyone else.

"Carl?" I called out.

The boy stepped into the room before two more people jogged up behind him.

"Carl! Carl, where the hell did you-" Rick yelled at him before his eyes landed on me. "Scar?" he questioned.

He walked over to me and I stared at him in disbelief. I had made my peace with the fact that I probably wouldn't see any of them ever again. Not knowing who was dead, lost, or had moved on. I only had a small grasp of Daryl until we separated and after a split second after reading Maggie's message to know that she made it out of the prison. But here before me, alive, were Rick, Carl, and Michonne.