The Walking Dead (Fanfic)

Chapter 29

Throughout the last 8 months I haven't had any nightmares. The only connection I can make as to why, was because of Daryl. Every time we'd sleep near one another, my nightmares were gone. I had only noticed this pattern after winter was over. So, when I wake up to the sun rising above the horizon, I feel refreshed.

Looking over to my side, I notice Daryl is gone. My gaze scanned over the prison fields before landing on the fallen over prison bus, where he stood with his crossbow slung over his shoulder. He stood with his arms folded as he spoke to Rick

Despite it being early, everyone slowly started to wake up. This was the routine. Some nights when we were on the run we'd have to move to another place in the middle of the night just so we wouldn't be surrounded by walkers. Everyone cleaned our own areas, and got our bags in a neat pile. We watched at Rick walked over to us, with his hands on his belt and his eyes squinted because of then sun. Daryl trailing behind him.

"I hope y'all are well rested. This is going to be a challenge, but we've done this kind of thing before." Rick spoke as he looked at us and moved his gaze to the prison he wanted to clear out, "We will stand in formation; Daryl, T-Dog and I will stand up front. Glenn and Aideen cover this sides, and Maggie, you're watching our backs. Remember, no walker gets near us, and watch each other's back. Drink up, we'll be doing the sweep soon." Rick finished before walking to talk to Hershel.

I walked towards the gate, and watched the walkers stumble towards me. It somehow felt like I was a spectator watching animals in a cage, like this was some kind of zoo for freaks. I felt a gentle tap on my arm, I turned to look at Carl. He had a bottle of water raised in front of him. I took it gratefully before I started speaking.

"Do you know what I miss about the farm?" I asked the young boy with the sheriff's hat, before taking a sip of the warm water. "What?" he asked looking up at me, squinting just like his father. "Kicking your ass at checkers." I smiled, and so did he.

"That's not how I remember it, it was me doing the ass kicking." Carl smiled and I bumped him with my shoulder before drinking the rest of the water in the bottle. "Please don't tell your mother that I let you speak like that." I joked but suddenly the smiled dropped from his face. His anger towards his mother was still an untamed rage. I crouched down in front of him before placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Carl, I'm going to be honest with you because I know that you can handle it. Okay?" he nodded slightly before I started to speak once again. "I know you're angry and you're allowed to be. But don't let it ruin the sliver of joy that may cross your path. You never know if it'll be the last. I'm here if you want to talk about anything." I stood up, expecting Carl to snap at me and show his anger. However, he does one thing I didn't expect. 

The young boy hugged me before nodding his head. "Okay. After you guys clear the cell block, we should look for cards and you can teach me poker!" he said, a slight smile on his face once again. "Last time I checked, gambling wasn't for people under the age of 18." I joked which caused him to smile. "What? Are you gonna throw me in jail? Oh wait, looks like we're already here." We laughed for a moment before Rick called us to the gate.

As I walked over to the group, I pulled out the hunting knife that Daryl had given me after raiding one of the houses we had been in. The handle of the blade was a dark oak, but the blade itself was black. I placed my forefinger in the ring just below the blade, readying myself for the challenge we were about to face.

Daryl looked back at me and gave a quick nod, while taking a deep breath I returned the gesture. Hershel and Carl stood to the side as everyone got into formation. I stood between Daryl and Maggie. "Ready?" Rick asked as he unclipped the chain that had held the gate close, no one replied but he knew that we were. Rick pushed the gate open, and we all poured into the open area of the prison.