Jordan Taylor › Rick Grimes F.F

› Sixty-Three / Adrenaline ‹

Chapter Sixty-Three // {jordan's pov}

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I slammed the passenger car door behind me. Daryl was already waiting for me. I turned to look at him as I buckled up.

"When y'all left to move the herd of walkers, do you know what route Rick was supposed to take?" I questioned him, he appeared to be in thought. He nodded slowly as he turned the car engine on.

"Seat belt," I stated, raising an eyebrow at his lack of car safety. He glared me before pressing on the accelerator, moving towards the main gates. He ignored my request for safety, I rolled my eyes. Eugene was standing at the gates, smiling still, despite everything that had happened. He must've been on guard for this hour.

Daryl slowed to a stop just before the gates, waiting for Eugene to open them. As soon as he did, we were out. Daryl's driving was kinda shit, to be honest. We almost hit a few walkers. I gasped every time we almost did. I should've drove and asked for directions.

I stared out the passenger door window, watching the leaves fly up off of the road as we drove. I watched the trees whip past us. I rarely saw a walker, or anything for that matter. Just trees and the odd old building. 

"Why're we goin' here?" Daryl finally asked.

Without turning to him, I spoke, "to find my Dad's body."

"How do ye know he's.. gone?" he questioned, swerving to go around a walker.

"Because Rick was there," I answered, sighing, "we'll collect his body -- or what's left of it and take him to Alexandria. I'll bury him."

Daryl didn't reply, instead he slowed down at where I assumed Rick was around when they executed their plan. Daryl pulled over into the trees to hide the car. I pushed open the car door and stepped out into Virginia's morning air. I took a deep breath. I was used to seeing bodies. I was used to seeing one's that have decayed in murder cases. Despite all of this, I wasn't sure what to expect. Would we even find him?

I strode over to the bonnet of the car, waiting for Daryl to get out, I suddenly realised he only carried a knife and a holstered gun when he finally made his way over to me. I screwed my face up in confusion.

"Where's your crossbow?" I asked him, hoping he might actually just say he left it in Alexandria. Except, I got the reply that I didn't want.

"Gone," he said bluntly, not glancing up at me once. He walked past me, down into the tree line, beside the road.

"Rick was along 'ere. He'd be here if anythin'," he grunted, stepping on a large rock. I followed closely behind him, looking around on the floor for any signs of someone running through here. The leaves were messed up, indicating something or someone was once here. I looked up and noticed Daryl and taking a different path. I jogged to catch up with him. He stopped suddenly and I ran into the back of him, falling back onto the ground on my ass.

"For fucks sake," I grumbled, sitting there. Daryl just blankly looked at me.

"Aren't you gonna help a pregnant woman up, jesus, Daryl," I huffed. He finally offered me a hand, pulling me to my feet. He turned back around to whatever he was originally looking at. I stepped around him to see. There was a pool of dried blood and knife lying beside it.

"This couldn't be his, Rick said he put him down," I commented, stepping towards the knife and picking it up. I didn't recognise it. Then again, I didn't know what weapon Dad used.

"C'mon, Jordan. We'll keep lookin', but I ain't sure we gonna find anythin'," he said, beckoning me to follow him. I leaped over the pool of dried blood and continued following him.