The Dixon Bloodline

Chapter Two

The drive we would have to make to reach the C.D.C was something I considered brutal, the road just seemed to go on for ages as my eyes were unable to see the end. Dad had been staring ahead at the road silently, not seeming to have a single problem on his plate. I however sat there in the passenger seat with his leather vest around my form, staring ahead with many problems flooding my mind. There was a comfortable silence that was held by my father, however, I was the one to break it.

"Did Merle just leave us?" I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper. If music would have been on, it would have completely washed over my voice. But in the silence, I knew Dad had heard my question.

"Do ya know Jim?" Dad questioned me, completely ignoring what I had asked.

"The man who was digging all the graves?" I asked, returning his question with a question of my own. I couldn't be sure of the man's name and after all, that's what my father just did to me, but when dad nodded his head slightly and glanced his ice-blue eyes at me before they returned to the road once more, I knew something was wrong.

"I don't want ya going near him, or the RV," he said simply, getting a confused look as I turned to face his driving form. After a small pause, he must have continued due to my look, and knowing my questioning personality. "He was holding back the fact that he was bit during the attack, the group brought him along with the rest of us against many protests. He's held up in the RV," Dad explained. Jim was bitten which meant the man could turn at any moment, biting any of us that happened to be close enough to his form. Dad must have noticed my concerned look, or it could have been because I was fidgeting due to my nerves, who knows? He placed a hand on my head, his other hand still resting on the steering wheel. "Don't worry, Sapling. I won't let anything bad happen to you." Dad promised.

I smiled softly at his words, calming slightly. While I knew that Dad couldn't promise my safety or health, somehow his old words that used to calm me greatly seemed to help, even if only slightly. They used to hold so much more of an impact, but now that I knew that no matter how hard Dad tried to protect me, he couldn't just promise my safety. Whether it was because they were his words, or maybe I wanted to believe him and think everything would be fine, the false promise still helped calmed me ever so slightly. With his words, I relaxed once more, leaning into Dad's sleeveless leather vest that was still wrapped around my shoulders. Leaning my head back onto the seat, and closing my eyes, as I felt the rocking of the truck. Even if Dad completely side-stepped my question, I knew prying wouldn't give me answers if he didn't offer or want to share them.

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I must have dozed off when I leaned back, having seemed to relax enough for sleep. Upon opening my eyes, I noticed Dad was already out of the pickup. He was further ahead, the line of cars we had been traveling in at a halt. Giving a small grunt I stretched myself awake, rubbing my sleepy chocolate eyes. Looking out my door and making sure it was clear, I slipped myself out of the truck, making my way towards my father's form that was gathered with the rest of the group.

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose," Dale mumbled to the new cop as they stood in front of the smoking RV. "I said I needed one from the cube van..."

Silence rang for a moment as Rick adjusted his sheriff hat in thought. "Can you jury-rig it?" Rick finally questioned.