Daring Dixon (A Daryl Dixon fanfiction)

Chapter 6

The next morning, we all got up bright and early to pack up our things. I helped Glenn take down the tent, despite his assurances that he was perfectly capable to do it himself. I had everything packed of mine in very little time. I didn't have much.

We assembled up by the cars. Shane was giving a spiel about what we were to do in case we had trouble or needed to stop for some reason. A moment after he stopped, Morales, who was the father in the Mexican family Glenn had told me about, spoke up. "We're, uh… We're… we're not going," he said.

"We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people," his wife Miranda explained.

"You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back," Shane pointed out.

"We'll take the chance. I got to do what's best for my family," he said quietly.

"You sure?" Rick asked.

"We talked about it. We're sure," Morales assured.

"Come here," said Lori, giving Miranda a hug. We all said our goodbyes.

Rick turned to me. "You can ride with Shane or Daryl. Carol's Cherokee is full, and it's getting cramped in Dale's RV as well. It's your choice," he said.

Perfect. Now I had to choose with riding with a man I could hardly stand and a man who was always trying to woo me. At first, Shane seemed like he would win out. Having someone attempt to woo me was better than listening to Daryl flap his lips. But then I remembered what Lori said. I sighed. "I'll ride with Daryl," I said. He frowned, but didn't refuse.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Shane's face sink. He was sure that I would ride with him. Strangely, it made my mad. He acted like he could just have me. Like I was a trophy that he could win. Like I was the prize to a contest.

I stalked past Shane and threw my pack in the back of Daryl's truck, keeping my gun close by. Opening the door, I slammed it loudly and behind me as I slid into the seat.

The floor of the truck was not very clean. It seemed that every beer can, cigarette pack, or fast food wrapper Daryl had ever had in his tuck was there. Sighing, I vowed to clean it up the first chance I had,

Daryl finished his conversation with Rick, then opened the door and slid into his seat. He started the truck, and then we went on our way.

The silence between us was deafening. We didn't really speak under normal circumstances, and being alone together in his truck made the situation even more awkward. After several attempts to start a conversation, I gave up.

Half way to the CDC he finally decided to talk. "Did you have any close friends in Atlanta? Were you married?" he asked

I sighed. "I might've been, if this thing had hit us a few years later," I said.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"My best friend from college was named Riley. We were inseparable. He was the nicest guy you could meet. We both went to Cornell together. Afterwards, we decided to move to Atlanta together. A company was looking for two people to hire, and we both got the job. We were trying to leave the city when it all broke out. There was a major traffic jam, and we just... Riley got out of the car to see how much farther we had to go when out of nowhere came three walkers. They devoured him outside the windshield while I watched. I managed to escape, stealing a gun off the body of a dead police officer in the streets. After that, I stayed in the highest floor of the buildings, trying to steer clear of walkers. Anyway, to answer your question, I was starting to feel something for Riley. We had known each other so long that I guess I'd just assumed we'd marry one day. Silly, I know," I admitted.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. This was the most mellow I had ever seen Daryl be. It was quite comforting.

"What about you?" I asked, putting him up to it. "You loose anyone important?" I asked. "Besides Merle of course," I added.

"Nah," he said with a wave of his hand. "I ain't dated no one since high school. Not seriously anyway," he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I had to take care of Merle, which is a full time job as it is, and then on top of that I repaired motorcycles, so I really didn't have much time for that shit," Daryl explained.

"And yet you had time to drink and smoke," I said quietly.

"It's not that simple," he argued.

"Whatever. Just drop it," I said, turning towards the window and ignoring him. After a few seconds, he slammed his hand on the wheel, making me jump.

"Damnit!" Daryl said. "This is why I stay away from you woman. We just argued about why I haven't ever had a steady girlfriend. What's wrong with that picture?" he demanded.

"Just drop it, Daryl," I snapped.

"What the hell did I do, I just-"

"And that is why I stay away from you, Daryl. You don't know how to leave things well enough alone," I spat.

"You obviously aren't doing a good job at that, are you?" he asked mockingly.

"Ugh! You annoy me so damn much that can't even think around you without thoughts of murder going through my head!" I yelled. He just smirked, sitting there triumphantly.

I laid my head against the window. If this was going to be car rides with Daryl Dixon, I'd pass.

A little while later, after letting myself cool off a moment, I tried talking to him again. "Who taught you how to use that thing?" I asked, gesturing to his crossbow which was laying on the seat between us.

"Grew up in the back woods near an Indian reservation. I stumbled upon a dead dear once, and while I was examining the arrows stuck in it, an Indian man walked up. We became friends, and he taught me everything I know. He preferred a recurve bow, but he also had a crossbow. He taught me how to shoot it, and when he saw that I wasn't half bad, he gave it to me for my 17 birthday," he admitted.

"Wow, impressive," I said, nodding my head.

"So your grandparents taught you to shoot?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Yep. Like I said, I spent the summer split between both sets of grandparents. My mom and dad wouldn't let me shoot at first, but after they caught me out in the woods with my cousins shooting, they figured that if I was going to do it, I may as well be taught how to do It properly. My grandfathers took me out mostly, but my grandmothers also taught me some things too," I answered.

He chuckled. "I would never have pictured you with a gun if I had met you before all this shit happened," Daryl said. 

"Why?" I asked, chuckling a little myself.

"You're just... too status quo. I bet you were the girl that graduated top of her class, got a full ride to college, everything. I just couldn't have imagined you with a gun as a little teenage girl," he said. We both started laughing,

I gave him a glance, and we both sat there, grinning at each other. My mind started racing a mile a minute as I looked at those sapphire blue eyes. And then I leaned in and kissed him.