One way or another [Daryl Dixon]

[2] ROBIN HOOD.

"Damaged people are dangerous, they know how to make hell feel like home"
-Anonymous

Tired and out of breath did not come close to the exhaustion that was taking over my body, I have been running from the same small heard for a solid half an hour now.

"Come on, just a little further." I motivated myself.

I needed to make sure I was far enough in front in order to catch my breath and then put them all down without problems. Then back to finding Aiden.

The dead were stupid all they knew was how to kill, that's all that was on their mind 24 hours of everyday. I was at least a good ten minutes in front of them, maybe a dozen or a couple less than that. Hiding myself behind a tree and chucking my bag on top of a tree trunk for safe measure I patiently waited to hear the dreaded groans and snapping of twigs from the herd that had been chasing me down. What was about to happen was bound to hurt my ribs but if I left them as they were they would only attract more of the dead.

Eight minutes had passed and I started preparing, grabbing an arrow from my quiver I clipped the arrow onto the bow string, now all I could do was wait.  Faint groans and twigs snapping filled the silence, moving my head from behind the tree I counted how many walkers were in the group.

"Ten. Great. Target practice." I murmured to no one but myself.

Stepping out from behind the tree now facing the small herd, they all noticed me immediately. It was almost fascinating to see them grow eager at the sheer sight of a possible meal, it was as if each of them picked up their pace to see who would win the race and take a bite first.

I'm sorry to tell you bastards but today is not gonna be that day.

Using my whole body to pull the arrow back, lining my index finger with the corner of my mouth I carefully aimed right between the first walkers eyes, releasing the arrow I watched it with a slight grin fly through the air finding its target. Grabbing another arrow, I did the same taking a step forward quickly realising the arrow, watching it take down another dead one.

"One less dead bastard to care about." I muttered.

Repeating my actions twice more I then counted 6 more walkers left.

Swiftly discarding my bow and arrow to the side, I reached for my throwing knives that where strapped in my thigh holster's. The 6 remaining walkers were edging closer, taking one throwing knife aiming for the walker closest in range, I threw the knife and before I could register if it hit the target I threw the next knife. Studying my handy work, if my math is correct, that was six down, four to go.