Sydney Dixon

Chapter nine

Sydneys POV

"Hey Uncle Daryl, I'm going shooting with Shane" I walk into his tent and take my gun.

"Hey. Give me that back, not allowed to have Em at camp." He orders from his bed.

I narrow my eyes, putting it into my waistband

"I mean it. Hershel will kick us out" He holds his hand out.

I tense my jaw, pulling out of my jeans and placing it in his hand. "Since when do you take orders from people?"

"Since we gotta home. And you don't need trainin, I taught Cha everythin you need ta know" He scoffs.

"With a crossbow."

"Fine. Go. You'll shoot the target every time and realize what a waste of time it was" He waves me off.

I leave the tent, meeting with Carter in Shane's car. He's coming along because he really doesn't know how to use any weapon.

"Ready?" Shane asks as Carl jumps into the car.

"Ready" He answers for the three of us.
~~

Daryl was right, every shot I took hit a bottle, even if I wanted to miss.

"Looks like ya don't need training. Why'd ya come?" Shane approaches me.

"Maybe I just wanted to shoot" I fire the gun again, breaking a red bottle.

"Fair enough" he moves to the next person.

I look over to Carter, who is struggling a bit. I look at his stance, tight and stiff.

"Carter, try to relax. Your too stiff" I tell him, placing my hands on his shoulders.

He nods, separating his feet so that they aren't together. His shoulders relax, and he brings the gun to his face. Pointing the pistol at the bottle, he pulls the trigger.

"Bullseye" I smile.

"Alright, if I hit that no trespassing sign over there, right on that R, you have to kiss me" He smirks.

"Oh really? You got a deal" We shake on it.

He stays relaxed, bringing his gun back up. He fires the gun and looks towards the sign.

"Did I get it?" He squints his eyes

"Nope, you missed" I laugh. He sighs, and Rick tells us it's time to go back.
~~

When we get back from shooting, I immediately go to my tent. I begin to think back to the time where my dad and I went shooting, one of the only times he was sober.

He actually treated me well that day, limiting the number of times he called me a disappointment to once. We laughed quite a bit that day, surprisingly. It's times like that I miss my dad. I even miss the times when he was getting high in his bedroom, despite Daryl telling him not to when I was home. I miss that because I knew he was safe.

Now, I'm not so sure that he is.

"What ya doin in here?" Daryl walks in, standing above me.

"Just thinking about things" I play with my pocket knife.

"Things?" He sits beside me

"Yea. Like how I miss my dad" I frown, knowing that if I start crying I will get a lecture on how Dixons don't cry.

"Why? He was nothin but a jerk to ya" Daryl scoffs

"Well he was still my dad. I love him. Or, loved"