All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 9

I wake up to a pillow thrown at my face.

“Rise and shine!” Daryl exclaims.

It’s too early to be this chipper in the morning. I open one eye to see that it literally is the crack of dawn, and in response I pull the covers over my face.

“Give me another three hours,” I groan.

“No, Macy,” he says, throwing another pillow at me. “We need to get going now.”

Hearing the irritation in his voice, I rise to my feet. “Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

Everything is lined up against the front door as Sam runs around the house, not letting Daryl catch him. I don’t blame him, if I was him I wouldn’t want to leave either. I grab the two packs off the floor and swing them around my shoulders. My knees start to buckle.

I really hope we find a car soon.

Daryl comes to the door and picks up his backpack with Sam close behind him. I notice the two-year-old has a small plush animal on his back with a leash attached to it.

“Is that like a leash for kids?” I ask.

“Yeah, we can’t have him runnin’ off out there,” Daryl answers, looking at Sam.

I try not to laugh because of how ridiculous it looks.

“Are you ready?” Daryl asks with his hand on the doorknob.

No.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” I say aloud.

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar.”

We make our way down the front steps and the first thing I notice is how eerily quiet it is outside. I turn to look at Daryl and he seems to be noticing the same thing. His eyes keep frantically searching the perimeter. A revolting smell assaults my nose and just a few feet to our right is a dead walker.

“Is that the one I killed?” I question, nodding my head towards its decaying body.

“Yeah. I thought if I moved it right in front of the house it might send a message to all the other walkers saying, ‘don’t fuck with us.’”.

I start laughing. “I bet they received the message loud and clear. That’s why this whole neighborhood is deserted.”

“You’re damn right,” he says with a small smile.

We walk for a long time. After thirty minutes, Sam grows tired and Daryl carries him the rest of the way, handing the small boy to me when his arms get tired. We stick to the side streets, running into a few walkers here and there, which Daryl takes out with his crossbow. Every time he uses it, I watch him closely because of how beautiful he looks when he shoots it.

I really need to stop checking him out.

Along the way, we find a small creek and decide to take a break. I wade into the cool water until it reaches my knees, my body instantly cooling off. Daryl tries to coax Sam into the water; he becomes scared and starts screaming.

“Shit,” Daryl mumbles under his breath. “Sam, c’mon bud. You can’t cry like that out here.”

His shrieking decreases slightly as he hesitantly takes a step towards the water. He looks at me expectantly and I try to show him that the water is safe. He allows the water to hit his toes, but doesn’t go any further.

“So where exactly are we going?” I ask, turning my attention to Daryl.

“Right now we’re headin’ west. We need to find a car and then we’ll find some place that looks safe,” he says as he splashes water on his face.

We starting walking again and as the day progresses the heat of the sun intensifies. The back of my neck is drenched in sweat and I can feel my hair start to stick to it. Sam cries. A lot. Because of how uncomfortable he is in the heat. I think an hour has passed and he still hasn’t stopped. My head is literally throbbing from how annoying it is.

“Did you hear that?” Daryl asks, turning around with Sam still crying in his arms.

“Over the sound of your son screaming? No. I can’t hear anything,” I answer in an irritated tone.

“Macy, stop. Stop walking,” he demands.

“Daryl, what’s going on?” I question. He’s starting to freak me out. My eyes frantically search around me, looking for any type of movement. I remove my knife from my waistband.

“We’re being followed,” he whispers.

We’ve been following the creek for the past few miles and I haven’t seen anything or anyone.

“Are you high?” I say. “We haven’t seen anything in two miles.”

But then I do hear it. I hear a twig snap and the sound of feet shuffling around in the woods. My heart starts pounding in my chest, trying to rip its way out of my ribcage. If it was a walker, I’d hear it groan. The footsteps we’re hearing belong to living people.

“Put your hands up! Up, where I can see them! And drop everything!” a loud voice booms.

I instantly look at Daryl for what to do. My heart drums in my ears. My knees start to buckle.

“Who the hell are you?” Daryl shouts back.

Three figures emerge from the woods. Each of them points a gun at our heads. Even at Sam. Daryl sets his crossbow on the ground, along with his knife, and I do the same. The tallest one steps forward, his blue eyes staring us down.

“I’m the governor.”