Vanessa Taylor, a sassy blue haired, tattooed cosmetologist with a mouth of a sailor was born and raised in Ohio. One summer while she was visiting her sick father, her connecting flight ends in the city getting shut down, leaving her stranded in th...
Head spinning, I wipe a stray tear that had escaped from behind my eye. I take a shaky breath in, folding the letter. I carefully place it in my book. I move it into my bag, finally done.
"Ready to go?" Kelly's voice calls from the doorway. "You okay?" He takes in my disposition, leaving his words laced with worry and concern.
"Yeah. Take that to the truck, please." I ask, not looking up, holding out one of my bags.
"You got it. Glad to see you told him." He grabs the bags from me.
I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "I didn't. We got into a small spat, and by small, I mean I was screaming in his face... but we worked it out. I think." Truthfully, it felt like my anger deflated seeing Daryl look so broken and defeated. I also decide I'm going to keep that letter to myself.
His eyes search my face. "You think? You two seem lighter given the circumstances we are facing. Happiness suits both of you." He smiles, "And don't think I didn't see you cuddled up all night. I took his place on the perch."
"He just lost his brother. He needed a friend. On the road, we held onto each other through the darker moments. Habits, you know. Now, take that to the truck, and stop pestering me, Kelly Levi Sutton!" I throw an empty bottle of water at him, grinning. I hike my last bag on my shoulder.
I meander my way outside after him, seeing I was the last one out. I look around at everyone, feeling the weight of the situation. We got this. We will make this out alive. Merle made sure of it. My heart sinks at the thought of him. My eyes search out Daryl, noticing he's talking to Carol. I smile. He'll be okay.
Memories of our last conversation replay in my head. Thinking back, it sounded a lot like he was trying to make peace for his brothers sake; he was saying goodbye in his own way. He knew he wasn't coming back once he walked out of the gates. Part of me is thankful I didn't completely turn him away; I saw hope in the older Dixons eyes when I admitted that someday I might be able to find it in myself to forgive him.
I peer up into the sky, I forgive you, Merle. I'll take care of Daryl and watch over him as long as my heart beats. And I don't make those lightly, old man.
"Ah, the group is right again," Maggie knowingly smirks as she passes me, bringing my eyes back to the small crowd around me.
"Not you too." I shake my head at her, grinning. She laughs, continuing on to her destination.
"Positions everyone!" Rick barks at us.
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Daryl, Rick, and I are hidden in the tombs, leaning against a door that's holding walkers back from tearing us apart. We hear the faint sound of bullets and crashing coming from outside. From here, it's muffled. It's show time! We sit, waiting patiently with bated breath like a spider awaits for her victim to fall into her trap. Suddenly, we detect several footsteps heading in our direction. We start shooting from our advanced position, opening the door, letting the dead out for lunchtime. "Stand down!" The Governors voice echos off the walls. We crouch behind the door, waiting for the last of the walkers to round the corner, before we retreat quietly in the opposite direction.
