Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

The Only Constant Is Change

I walked the fence line of the prison before the sun was even high enough to clear the tree line. The morning was filled with a dense fog I could feel on my skin and clothes, the water particles in the air a milky, white color. Birds chirped as they soared high in the iridescent sky, lovely songs that made you forget for a moment the world ended.

A gentle breeze made my exposed skin prickle with goosebumps, the wet air thick enough to taste and cold enough to make me uncomfortable. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms in an effort to warm myself, but even that couldn't erase the chill I felt in my bones. Probably because it had little to do with the weather.

A nightmare woke me hours earlier. I'd choked on a scream, my eyes flying open in terror, a light sheen of sweat coating my body as I shook with aftershocks from the imagined trauma. It took me minutes to calm my frayed nerves. The nightmare still vivid, the fear so tangible I locked my eyes on Daryl and refused to blink just to assure myself he was alive and well.

There was no getting back to sleep at that point, try as I might, and I could only lay there unmoving for so long. Miraculously I untangled myself from his arms without waking him as I dressed in the dark in that odd hour somewhere between night and morning. I stood by our shared bed, staring down at him while he snored softly, his arms reaching for me even in sleep as he mumbled something I couldn't make out. Only Daryl could look tense in the middle of a REM cycle, his body twitching every few seconds, eyes flitting back-and-forth under his eyelids at a rapid pace. He would be pissed when he woke up and found me gone, but he needed the rest and as much as he disagreed I didn't need a chaperone.

Outside I grimaced at the sizeable number of walkers lining the fence on one particular side. The dead were attracted by our scent and judging by the accumulation this morning our smell lingered far longer than we imagined. The only person who had ventured anywhere near this portion of the fence was Carol and that was early yesterday morning, but here they were, practically climbing over each other as they gnawed and licked the metal structure.

A group this size needed to be dealt with before it grew to an unmanageable number. Glancing up at the guard tower I contemplated letting Glenn and Maggie know I was stepping outside for a bit, but the rhythmic pounding coming from above told me they were otherwise occupied.

I walked to the main fence, unlocking the gate and swinging it open as I stepped out, quickly closing it behind me. Rolling my shoulders and head to loosen the knots in my muscles I drew two knives from the sheath at my waist, quietly making my way towards the small group.

Anticipation pounded in my pulse like a drug. My body felt stretched like a rubber band ready to snap at any moment. I needed a release, to stretch my muscles and let off steam in a way only combat provided.

The past few days an uneasy feeling I couldn't explain followed me everywhere I went like my own personal rain cloud. It wasn't any one thing, but rather a nagging doubt, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was horribly wrong.

At first I thought Oscar and Axel responsible for my discomfort, but we hadn't seen hide nor hair of either since we marooned them in their cellblock. I knew they would show their faces eventually, but it wasn't their impending arrival that had me on edge.

It felt like someone was watching us. Their eyes making my skin prickle in warning when we were outside in the yard or next to the picnic table on the basketball court, but when I turned around or dashed suddenly around a corner I found nothing.

Daryl believed it was the silence that unsettled me. Admittedly I wasn't used to downtime. I felt comfortable on the run. I didn't know what to do with myself when there wasn't an enemy to fight.