Double Crossbow (Daryl Dixon) [The Walking Dead]

Chapter 56 ↣ How could that be?

"Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it wants. The way it starts and stops."

— Edgar Allan Poe

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Kathryn

SOMETHING WAS BURNING, and close by if the watering of my eyes was any indication. The smoke had snuffed out any chance of me getting meat for breakfast. The animals were smarter than I was and had cleared the area. After seeing the plumes of dark smoke from the position I had taken in a tree the night prior, I couldn't help my curiosity. I brought the hood of the cloak that Morgan had now gifted me tighter around my face so I could breathe through the fabric. Asphyxiation was no way to go.

My skin had started to prickle with the excess heat as I broke through the tree line. It was a cabin, or what was left of one. I narrowed my eyes in confusion and started circling the property. Had someone raided it? Why set a perfectly good shelter on fire? It didn't make sense.

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as I saw a boot print clear as day on the far side of the cabin. I nearly squealed in delight as they matched Daryl's. Casting a glance over my shoulder to the burning building, I let a smile come over me. Message received.

I flew through the forest back to Morgan. I wasn't sure if my feet ever hit the ground. He was close. He was here. I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs, but I clamped down on the joy that was pouring from my veins as I heard another voice emanate from the clearing. I squinted through the bushes, and saw Morgan calmly conversing with another man. Did Morgan know this man?

My eyes dropped the stranger's hand, and I bristled as I saw he had a handgun pointed at Morgan. I slowly exhaled as I brought my scope up and aimed half an inch above the curve of the stranger's ear. My finger hovered over the trigger. One more breath, and I would've taken the kill had it not been for the slick movement to my right.

I lowered my bow and took a wide curve around our camp, following the movement. It belonged to another stranger who held a knife sloppily posed in an offensive position. He crouched in the brush right behind Morgan. I decided to return the favor and get into position behind him. Silently placing my bow on the ground, I unsheathed my knife, and as his buddy told Morgan, "Just be still." I leapt.

We broke through the brush in a fury, causing both men to rise to their feet and hurry out of the way. The man I tackled tried to flip around from off his stomach, but I grabbed hold of his hair, lifting his neck enough to place my blade across it. A quick glance behind me confirmed Morgan was okay. He held his stick out, keeping the man with the gun at bay.

"You should just go now," Morgan said.

The man snarled back, "No." He then attacked.

I went to finish off his friend, but Morgan said my name, making me hesitate. "There's no need."

The man underneath me took my hesitation as his moment and gained the upper hand. I fell off of him, and we both rose to our feet. He angrily swung his knife in a series of poorly coordinated moves. I danced around him as his anger built up.

"Come on," I taunted. "With that calligraphy on your head, I would've thought you knew how to use a knife."

The man roared in anger and charged. I stepped aside and stuck out my boot, causing him to trip face first into the small fire Morgan had made. He cried in agony as he scrambled away. Looking over to Morgan, I saw him take his final swing and knock the other unconscious.

He then walked over to the other and did the same. I deep scowl came over me, killing the good mood I had claimed this morning. "He could've killed me," I snarled, "because I hesitated. Because of you."