Hiraeth (The Walking Dead)

Chapter 6

"So yer' really goin' all the way to the damn river?" Daryl internally sighed at the young girl trekking through the dirt in front of him.

"Got more food with actual meat on it. Frogs, fish, some birds. It's worth the travel."

"Ya gotta get through the swamps an' shit with walkers. Unless yer' gonna go all the way 'round."

Both hunters knew going around to get to the river and avoid walker swarms would take all day. Cailey was obviously willing to take the risk of running into the undead monsters as she kept moving. "What, scared of a few of those things?"

"Not sayin' I am. Don't want yer' sorry ass getting eaten."

"I'm flattered you care." Cailey's voice was dripping with sarcasm, and she kept on moving without a single pause. "It's gonna take all day no matter what if you keep walkin' like an old man. Let's go."

Cailey's fast walk sped up, and Daryl was almost- almost- impressed by how fast she could walk with her short legs. She had to have been five-foot-two at the most, but she always moved as if she was late for something.

Not long after, the two hunters knew they had made it to the barrier between the river and the trees by the smell of wet grass and frog slime. Cailey slid a nimble arrow from the quiver on her back as she jogged to the edge, standing on the endless pile of rocks. Water splashed at her leather boots, and she stared down at the water. Daryl followed cautiously, keeping his ears out to listen for nearby walkers as Cailey walked into the water. She was over knee-deep by now as she stared down into the flowing river, holding an arrow in one hand with her bow in the other.

"Ya really think you can shoot a damn fish with a bow?"

Cailey didn't respond, but slowly spun in circles as she watched the small moving shapes in the water.

Splat!

She stabbed the tip of the arrow deep in the water with her hand. Daryl watched, suddenly having a slight sense of intrigue. Cailey turned to stab the water on her other side, lifting her arrow back up. A golden-green fish struggled on its side with the top of the arrow through it, but it only lived a few seconds longer before falling dead in the middle of the pointy stick.

The brunette girl stared at the dead fish for a brief moment before hiking back out of the water and sitting on the grass with her legs crossed. Her pants were soaked, but she seemed to have no problem with it.

"Someone teach ya to do that?"

Cailey shrugged, beginning to rip the fins and sparkling scales off the dead meat. "Been out here on my own since before."

Daryl knew he didn't have to ask what 'before' meant, and he sat himself down on the ground only a few feet from the girl. She tore into the fish, beginning to feed chunks of the meat to herself and ignoring the other hunter. Daryl knew he wouldn't be able to find food like she did- he was a land hunter. He'd have to find a squirrel or a bird- maybe he would get really lucky and see a chicken.

"Don't leave," he commanded as he stood back up, his crossbow hanging from his right hand. "Imma be right back."

The girl made no attempt to respond, only kept eating the food in her lap she had caught. Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye as he made his way to the edge of the trees, searching for any sign of life.

Unfortunately, the hunter found nothing by the time he realized the sun was about to set. His group would need him back by now. So, Daryl huffed to himself and made his way back on the short route to where he and Cailey had stopped.

There was a dead fish carcass in front of the river where Cailey had been. The girl was nowhere to be seen. Daryl felt rage surge through him, mostly at himself for letting her out of his sight.

"Hey!" The man shouted nearly top of his lungs. She couldn't be too far with the wound in her leg. "Cailey! Where the hell are ya?"

Daryl made his way to the river until his feet were splashing in the water, searching for the girl. He heard sloshing in the flowing river to his left. Turning, he pointed his crossbow.

Cailey was hip-deep in water again, making her way to Daryl. She had her quiver over her shoulder and her bow strapped around her chest, and she held a dead silver-green fish by its tail. It was almost the size of her forearm, and its blank gaze stared down at the water with its mouth agape.

"Calm your dick," the girl stated simply, stepping up close enough to Daryl to toss the fish at him. It flopped heavily against his chest before he held the slimy body in his hands. He wasn't sure whether to thank her or to think she would have fled if given the time.

"C'mon," he told her instead, "Gotta get back before sunset."

Cailey didn't make a move to verbally reply, but kept moving up the hill back towards the farm. The limp in her left leg was much more prominent now, an obvious pain and inconvenience. Daryl began following her, letting her lead the way back to Hershel's farm. The girl tightened the bandanna headband tied around her forehead as she walked, her boots getting stuck in the wet mud every once in a while.

Once reaching the farm, an orange hue was starting to rest over the grass as the two hunters climbed over the crooked fence. Daryl held his crossbow in his two hands, watching Cailey as she walked back towards the house.

"Daryl," a thick Southern accent called, attached to the body of a well-built man in his thirties. He had scruffy facial hair and a worn-out cop's uniform. Cailey recognized him as one of the men she had shot down walkers for- Rick, she had heard his name was. "Leave 'er in the small barn."

Daryl gave a silent nod, chewing on his lip as he gestured Cailey over towards the small wooden building, covered in splintering red paint. The girl gripped tightly to her bow as she followed Daryl reluctantly, stepping into the small barn with him. There was hay and straw and dirt everywhere, but the barn was otherwise empty and dark.

"Gimme yer' bow," Daryl instructed. Cailey huffed and handed over her bow and quiver as she bit down on her back teeth, but Daryl elected to ignore it. "Sit."

The man ripped a rope off the wall as Cailey flopped on the ground with crossed legs and arms. He beckoned for her to give him her hands. Cailey only looked up at him with a slight glare. "We can do this easy way or hard way, girl."

The young girl huffed again, almost looking like a small child from where she sat. Daryl had almost entirely forgotten how much of a child she truly was-the literal definition, she could have only been fourteen or fifteen; she should have still been in school and playing sports with her friends. But here she was, getting her fate decided by a group of grown men. Daryl simply tied the rope around her wrists behind her back, and anchored it to the pole behind her. It wasn't long ago that a boy just barely older than her, Randall, had been tied to the same pole before being killed.

"Don't go nowhere," he commanded her.

"Don't got much choice, redneck," she retorted.

"I'm trynna help you, clodhopper," he grabbed a handful of her hair and gently shook her head back and forth a couple times. It was turning into a playful gesture, but one that still asserted Daryl's authority.

Cailey remained silent, not even making an attempt to struggle as she leaned against the wall inside the barn. Daryl left without another word, his crossbow hanging from his right hand as he made his way to the house.

"Daryl," Shane appeared from the front door of the house, "Hurry up, we gotta decide this before tomorrow."

Daryl wanted to huff and snap at the ex-cop, but simply stayed silent at first as he passed Shane and walked through the door. "What, you just wanna kill another kid, is that it?"

"Shut it, redneck," Shane snapped, and rage against the man surged through Daryl. He wasn't as okay with Shane trying to insult him by calling him a redneck. The ex-cop had changed since Rick returned to the group.

"C'mon," Rick called from inside, hearing the conflict. "Let's just get through with this."