The landscape had changed, everyone had recognized it. They hadn’t used a card for a long time. It didn’t matter where they went or where they would end. Carl thought they were moving closer and closer to Mexico. He had never really cared about Mexico, but he still had a weak, cruel hope. Maybe they would live in peace in Mexico. Maybe they would arrive at the border, find a cure, and become Mexican citizens. They would ate tacos and Chili every day and Judith would learn to dance salsa. He’d mentioned his fantasy to the group and pretended he didn’t care, like it was a joke. His most hidden hopes had been dashed in haste and no possibility of return when Daryl snorted and said: “Believe me, they’ll be more dead than we are in this damn third world!” Not that Carl didn’t think about it. If the epidemic had brought one of the world powers to its knees in a few weeks, it would have been easier for the other countries to destroy it. But hope was still the last to die. They had spent the last two weeks hiding in a kindergarten full of drawings of children clinging to walls surrounded by toys. It had been a party for Judith, a little dream for Maggie. Unfortunately, the place was not as safe as they had imagined. The Walkers came at intervals of a few days, but when they hid it was hell. Rick had decided that it would be better to look for a safer place. Daryl was the first to recognize the change. They had left the forests of Georgia for a long time, they were in a place with different vegetation, a milder climate, more wild fauna and flora. It was a landscape Daryl didn’t like. He had gotten used to Georgia, its tall, dry trees, the thorn bushes. These lush, colorful plants with thick and green leaves were not exactly his favorites. And the humidity of this place, which clung to the skin and formed like a warm sweat, was unbearable. But now they were there, so they moved on through the bush, on the back roads and away from the cities.
“Stop.” Rick waved his hand and the others, not far from him, stopped without saying a word. Michonne looked around and narrowed her eyes and pricked her ears. Carl immediately loaded the weapon and pointed it forward. Daryl had struck an arrow in the crossbow. Both ready to shoot.
“Stay quiet.” Everyone was quiet for a while, listening only to the sounds of nature. A sudden crunch made each individual’s eyes look up. There were no special movements in the dense bush, but that was not the sound of an animal or a simple falling fruit. Branches cracked and broke under the weight of something. Daryl jumped forward, aimed his crossbow, but didn’t shoot. A figure began to move between the branches. The walk was insecure, awkward, slow, it had the desperation of those who can not move, but knowing that it has to do it. It was you.
“Hey!”, Daryl shouted, stepping forward until he was in close proximity to your figure. It took him only a short time to reach you and the moment he looked up, your figure lost his balance and fell on him. The first instinct was to go away, but after a flashy argument, he reached out an arm. He couldn’t do much. The unknown figure fell to the ground, but at least Daryl slowed the speed with which your head reached the ground. The others rushed to him, surrounding the bundle of misery within seconds, with loaded and ready-to-fire weapons. It soon became clear that so much caution was not necessary. The figure was a woman, you breathed and were no Walker. The members of the group looked at each other.
“What are we going to do with her?”, Carl asked. “Let’s go.”, Rick replied immediately. “What? Then you could kill her as well.” Michonne looked at him with angry eyes.
“We don’t know who she is, we don’t know if she’s dangerous or hurt, or if she has a group.” Daryl leaned over the woman and realized that you were nothing but extremely exhausted. You had a few weapons on your belt and a backpack on your back. Your Y/H/C hair was dirty and stuck to your face. “She’s dehydrated.”, Daryl said, looking up at the rest of the group. “That’s why she fell, she must have fainted.” He put a hand on your forehead. “Light fever.”
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Fight The Dead Fear The Living (Daryl Dixon x Reader｜Nick Clark x Reader)
Fanfiction"Nothing ever happened between us because you've never done anything for it. You always stayed alone." "I understand. But nobody gives me anything here.", Daryl said, still looking at Y/N. Who knows how many outstretched hands he had ignored in his...
