Life I Left Behind (A Daryl Dixon Story)

Chapter Twenty-One

Charlie

Months ago

I sprinted down the streets of Atlanta, dodging debris and climbing over abandoned vehicles. I tried not to notice that most of the ‘debris’ I was trying to avoid was bodies, strewn all over the road. Some more dead than others. As if to prove this point, a rotting hand suddenly shot out from beneath an overturned truck and grabbed at my ankles as I ran by. I held back a yelp, stumbling back before regaining my footing and continuing to run. My backpack bounced up and down, the contents rattling around and smacking my back with each step, reminding me of why I had risked my life coming out here in the first place.

“Five minutes.” I breathed into the walkie talkie.

“I’ll be ready for you.” Gabe’s voice rang out from the device.

I slipped into an alleyway adjacent with the street, stopping at the chain link fence that separated me from the other side. The groaning and shuffling of footsteps behind me was getting louder. I tried to ignore it as I grasped the fence in my hands and slowly made my way over the top. It wasn’t until my feet had safely hit the pavement on the other side that I stopped to look. At least a dozen walkers had followed me into the alley. No doubt more were right behind them. Gabe and I had learned the hard way that the city wasn’t the safest place during a zombie apocalypse. But then again, where exactly was safe? I started to run again.

“30 seconds.” I said into the walkie as I ran out into the street. I kept close to the buildings this time and as I turned the next corner, I spotted Gabe on our balcony. He dropped the rope as I came closer and I latched myself onto it. Through a combination of him pulling and me climbing, I was pulled into safety moments later. I collapsed down onto the floor, leaning against the wall as I tried to catch my breath. I noticed I was shaking. Nothing like running a deadly obstacle course through the city to get the blood pumping.

“You should have let me go.” Gabe’s voice scattered my thoughts.

I glanced up at him to see the concerned expression that tugged the corners of his mouth downwards. “You went out last time.”

“Yeah, that was weeks ago. Things weren’t this bad then…those walkers are everywhere now.” He argued.

I waved my hand to silence him. “Doesn’t matter. I got what we needed and now we can get the hell out of here.” I stood to my feet and slipped inside the apartment. Gabe followed, sliding the glass door shut behind us. Once inside, I shrugged off the pack and carefully emptied the contents onto the coffee table. Canned foods, bottles of water, bandages, and bullets.

Gabe’s eyes grew wide. “You actually found ammo. Holy shit, I was positive all the stores would be cleared out by now.”

I shrugged. “Just gotta know where to look. And anyways, remember what we talked about? Guns are a last resort. Only in an emergency.”

He nodded. At the beginning of the outbreak, of this apocalypse of sorts, there had been utter panic. People seemed to be losing their minds with fear and rightly so. Gabe and I decided to wait it out inside our apartment, hoping there would be some sort of cure. Some sort of rescue for those of us who didn’t make it out of the city in time. Of course, nothing came. Eventually, all the televisions stopped reporting news, all the radio stations went silent. Then the power went and there was nothing. Gabe had the smarts to hit the gun stores before things got too serious. Lucky for us. Unluckily for us, though, we discovered that guns could sometimes prove more harmful than helpful. They were too loud, too risky. Take down one walker, draw in five more.

“I think we should leave first thing in the morning.” I said. “I can’t take being stuck here anymore.”
“Are we ready for that?” Gabe asked, sinking down onto the couch.

I dropped down next to him with sigh. “I don’t think we have many other options, Gabe. The city’s overrun. It has been for weeks. I think we both agree help isn’t coming. What’s the point of staying?”

“I know you’re right. I want to get out of here, too. Find mom and dad. I’m just…I’m worried about what we’ll really find when we get home.” He said, voicing the exact though that had been plaguing both of us for too long. “Do you think they’re alright?”

In that moment, he sounded so young and I saw him as the little kid he had been eight years ago. My first instinct was to lie. To tell him they would be fine, that everything would go back to normal and he shouldn’t worry. I didn’t have it in me, though. The only comfort I could afford to give him right now was the truth of the mess we were in.

“I don’t know.” I said softly. “I hope so, though.”

And I hoped Daryl was okay, too. This, I kept to myself, though. I had spent the last ten years trying to fill in the Daryl shaped gap in my life, but any fix was only temporarily. I didn’t know what it was about the smart mouthed redneck, but I missed him something fierce. Especially right now. He would know what to do, where to go, how to survive. He had been doing it all his life. God, I hoped he was alright. He was tough. He had to be.

I mentally shook myself, clearing my head. “We need to pack up. Get the lists we made. We only carry what we have to. Everything else has to stay behind.”

Gabe didn’t answer, but got up and left the room. I heard him rummaging through the hall closet and the sounds of a duffel bag being unzipped. I turned my attention towards the map spread out on the coffee table. The streets that were too dangerous to use were crossed out with a huge, black X. There was only one other way in and out of the city and it was the highway. I was apprehensive about using it, thinking about all the abandoned cars backed up for miles, holding passengers that had never made it out alive. It sent chills down my spine. But it was our best bet. Our best bet to get home.

And to get to Daryl.