The Walking Dead (Fanfic)

Chapter 3

I woke up earlier than most and went to the ravine to cool off, by the time I returned to camp everyone was awake. Once again, tending to mindless choirs. You would think that at the end of the world, people would focus on anything other than choirs. But I guess the did provide a form of normalicy to everyone's lives.

Glenn was standing by the red Camaro with his arms folded as he watched Jim, Dale and Morales strip it for parts. "Look at 'em. Vultures." he said, I rested a comforting hand on his shoulder before greeting Rick. It was nice seeing a new face around camp. "Yeah, go on. strip it clean." Glenn said sarcastically, I turned to Rick as Dale said something. "Lori is over there, just thought you'd want to know." I told him and he nodded, "Thank you," Rick paused, unable to remember my name. "Aideen."

Rick left and walked towards his wife as I stood beside Glenn. "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." he mumbles sadly, I patted his back. "Someday we will find a real car to steal, a Ford mustang is what you really need to drive." I said shooting him a smile, however he still looked sad. We stood there debating which was better, a Mustang or a Camaro, when we heard Shane's Jeep pull up.

"Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." he said getting out the car, I watched him. It was horrible to wish someone ill, however I was extremely curious about how this would play out. Especially after seeing the way Shane kept shooting longing looks at Lori.

The sound of a woman's scream sliced through the air, causing everyone to go into survival mode. I heard Carl screaming for his mom and his dad, as I grabbed the knife in my belt and ran in the direction of the screaming. Everyone had weapons as we ran past Carl, Sofia and Jacqui. Shane had his shotgun, the carried amongst the running crowd; while Glenn, Jim, Rick, Morales and Dale had weapons that were grabbed in a rush.

The first thing I saw was a walker kneeling beside a deer that was laying on the ground. The living dead was growling as it pulled out the deer's muscle and bone out of its body before shoving the guts in its mouth, chewing and growling. The walker's hands were covered in blood as we all cautiously surrounded the deer. Only then did I realize that the deer was already dead, because it has familiar yellow and red arrows in it's hide.

We could hear the squelching of the deer being eaten by the walker, it was ravenous. The walker saw us and stood up, growling before charging towards Rick. All of us hit the walker, taking it to the ground. It was Dale who took his axe and sliced the walker's head clean off. All of us took a step back, now that the walker was no longer a threat. I turned away when the smell of rot filled my nose. I struggled not to gag in disgust.

We heard the sound of rustling leaves, immediately we all got ready to attack another walker. I raised my arm higher, knife in hand. It was his crossbow that I saw first, before Daryl came into view. He was covered in dirt and his hair was a mess but somehow he was still handsome. The tank top that he had on looked grey when I'm sure that it used to be a white shirt. We let out a breath of relief when we realized we were safe.

"Son of a bitch." Daryl's southern accent was potent when his eyes landed on the deer, who had been eaten by a walker. "That's my deer!" he said approaching the deer, annoyance and frustration clearly on his face. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" Daryl yelled and kicked the body of the walker, with every word there was a kick. I flinched before taking a step back.

"Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale said, trying to be the voice of reason. His only mistake is that he didn't realize he was talking to Daryl Dixon. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?" Daryl snapped but turned around and rambled while everyone remained quiet. "I've been tracking this deer for miles," he said as he pulled his arrows from the deer's body, "Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison."