America in catastrophe

Chapter 22

The road is endless, narrow and cracking.

We walk, nowhere.

Daryl found some boots for me when we left Atlanta, they're too big, but the extra support feels good on my ankle. And carl spotted some proper crutches.

That hasn't stopped Daryl from staying close, something always touching, my back, my arm. My hair.

He hasn't said a word more than my name, praised it. Cursed it. But he won't look at me. Not with tears in his eyes and a hollowness to him.

Even taz can't bump him enough to earn his gaze.

So we keep walking perhaps out of fear of the undead herding us onwards. For the edge of the world and beyond.

I trip over the edge of my boot, careening foreword fast enough I slam my bad ankle into the ground. I bury my face in my elbow to smother the scream. Something hot oozes down my side.

"I'm sorry." Daryl is in front of me, picking me up; holding me to his chest. "I'm sorry."

Tears slide through the dirt on my face. My heart hammers up my leg, through my side.

"Don't-" I hiss as I shift closer. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

Daryl pulls away. "Nah, I wasn't watching the road."

I hop a little to stand closer. "Daryl, look at me."

Daryl stares at my ankle.

I grab his chin, tipping his face closer. His Georgia blue eyes are so dull. Almost grey in the shadows. Pooling with new tears, and blood shot from old ones.

"It's not. Your fault." I state firmly. I'm not talking about my leg. Fuck it.

He knows that's not what I'm saying. Pulls away, but holds my arms to keep me from stumbling again.

"Don't do this to yourself,"

He lets go, wiping his face. He slides through the group like smoke, materializing beside Rick. They whisper, Rick nods and he's gone. Into the trees, into the darkness.

I stagger into a slow walk again, the walkers snapping at my heels.

Taz herds them back, and then circles around me, pushing the group away too.

One man slows; sporting a deep black eye and a rolling mullet. Something familiar and alarming about it.

Taz walks between us, keeping the man at a distance.

"I have not had the pleasure of introducing myself, and considering the circumstances I feel l should." He behind, southern drawl proper and slow.

I press my fingers into my side, feeling the broken stitches. I wipe my fingers off on my coat quickly, turning back to the man.

"I'm Eugene." He states, sheepishly.

"Shade." I return. Watching the group ahead of me. How long would it take them to notice if I just... stopped? Would Daryl notice?

"I understand the young woman we just lost was one of your sisters. And I wanted to offer my deepest condolences." He continues.

I turn back to him, pain lacing a sneer across my lip. "I don't want to talk about it."

Eugene takes the hint and returns to the side of the red headed man.

Taz whines, shoving his nose into my hand.

Daryl slips from the trees. Walks with Rick without looking back.

My heart drops to the road, drags behind me.