Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Forty-Nine: The Rise of Woodbury

forty-nine

Beatrix

The ride was about half an hour long, and I looked out the window the whole time, tuning out any conversation in the background.

"They have patrols," Michonne says as we get out of the car. "We're better off on foot."

"How far?" Rick asks as everyone begins unloading the back of the car.

"A mile," she shrugs. "Maybe two."

Nobody else speaks as we quietly make our way through the forest, Rick and Michonne in the front with Daryl and Merle bringing up the rear. I take my place in the middle of the group alone.

Our walk lasts for about ten minutes before we come upon some walkers, probably about ten of them, which isn't anything the five of us can't handle. Instead of running from them, Rick turns to give us all a nod, signaling that we're going to fight.

Rick and Michonne run to the left, while Merle runs to the right. Daryl moves beside of me, and we basically enclose the small horde in a circle.

"Step back, Trixy," Daryl grunts. "I've got it."

"I'm not a child Daryl," I scoff, stepping away from him, shoving my sword into the head of the closest walker. "I can take care of myself."

He doesn't reply. Instead, Daryl scoffs at me, letting a bolt fly into a walker's skull. I shake my head at him, running up to kick my second one in the chest, the same move I practiced last night. It falls to the ground as I turn around, stabbing another one in the head with my katana. I sink my knife into another's head as the last one rises back up. It walks towards me, and just as I'm about to swing at it, an arrow pierces though it's eye.

"I can handle myself, Daryl," I almost yell at him, throwing my hand up in the air.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He whispers angrily, grabbing my hand and shoving it down.

"You act like I can't do anything for myself," I jerk my hand back away from him. "I can kill a walker, Daryl."

He doesn't reply as I walk away, falling back into our previous formation. I know I am overreacting a bit, but Merle is right. I absolutely cannot let Daryl get himself killed because he's trying to save me, no matter what the cost is. I don't want him risking his life for mine anymore.

The snarls of another small horde of walkers pulls me out of my thoughts. When I look, I can see that there are more than there were before, and this time they're coming at us from different angles, not just head on. When Rick turns and notices, he waves his arm, gesturing us to run and follow him. Him and Michonne go first, with Daryl and me in the middle, and Merle bringing up the rear.

We break through a clearing to see a small, secluded cabin. Without thinking, we all run towards it, Rick opening the door first, with the rest of us filing in after. A horrid stench fills my nostrils, and it's so bad that I would throw up if I hadn't been so used to smelling awful stenches for years. The sound of flies buzzing is prominent as we make our way further into the room, slamming the door shut behind us.

"What the hell is that?" Rick asks, shining his light on the floor as he explores more.

"Gotta be a fox," Daryl replies, shining his light on the fox carcass lying on the ground. "Or at least what's left of one."

I flinch as the walkers pound at the door we came in through, growling and sticking through the wood panels, trying as hard as they can to get in. I grip my katana tightly in my hand with my back to the group as I watch the door.