Don't Lie to Me | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 2 - Six Months on the Road

SIX MONTHS LATER

The blade of the knife drove through the rotten skull of the corpse as it lunged toward Rachel, and she kicked its stomach with the base of her boot as she pulled the knife out. Surrounded by growls of the dead, she continued sprinting through the woods. 

Blood was splattered all over the front of her cloths, the smell making her want to gag. She should have been used to it by now, but the putrid stench of dead skin and blood that had baked under the Virginian sun wasn't something that one could ignore. 

The dead squirrels hanging on the string over her shoulder bounced against her side as she ran, jumping over the heavy foliage and ducking under low-hanging branches. The walking dead were a little further back, moving much slower than her, but she didn't stop running. Up ahead, she could see the large white vehicle she was looking for, and she picked up her pace. 

Suddenly, one of the dead appeared right beside her, and reached its flailing arms out to her. She ducked when its limp hand came inches away from her face, and she quickly spun around on her heel, pulling out one of the two swords on her hip and beheading the walker in one strong swing. 

She froze for a moment when she heard the growls and groans of many more of the dead as they started to catch up to her. Through the shady trees, she saw a few of their dead figures limping towards her. 

The sound of a baby crying snapped Rachel back to the task at hand, and she ran until she reached the RV, yanking the door open and clambering up the steps before slamming it shut. 

"There's a herd, we gotta go!" she exclaimed. Already, walkers were starting to emerge from the treeline, and they began clawing at the side of the RV.

"Fuck," Thomas cursed under his breath as he turned the key in the ignition, slamming his foot down on the accelerator and speeding off down the empty highway. 

Rachel rushed to the back of the RV, taking the bow off her back and setting the string of squirrels down on the table before scooping a crying Mya up in her arms. The girl was wrapped in a blanket, so Rachel didn't have to worry about getting any blood on her. 

"Shh, it's okay," she cooed to her little girl. "It's okay, Mommy's here. I'm here."

"Though you said you weren't going far?" Thomas called back from the driver seat. 

Mya was still crying as Rachel walked to the front of the RV with the girl on her hip. "I didn't. I went a mile, maybe two. I was tracking a deer when the dead just appeared out of nowhere."

A smell hit Rachel's senses, and she lifted Mya further up her body. She pulled back the waistband of Mya's pants and diaper, seeing it full. 

"Oh yeah, she need's changin'," Thomas mumbled as he watched the road. 

"And you couldn't have done it while I was out?" Rachel questioned. 

"She never lets me do it, you know that," Thomas grunted. "Besides, I was on watch while you were out taking a stroll."

"I wasn't taking a stroll," Rachel argued. "I was trying to-"

"Yeah, I know" Thomas cut off his wife boredly. "Don't matter. Just change her, would you? And maybe wash up a little yourself. All that blood on ya, it's probably scarin' her."

Rachel pressed her lips together, biting the inside of her cheek. "Right."

This had been Rachel's life ever since they left the precinct in Richmond six months ago. She would be the one to go out and hunt, trying to provide for her family, only to come back and have to take care of everything alone. Thomas contributed by cooking whatever Rachel brought back. If they were near a town or they found somewhere to scavenge, he would do that alone. Hunting wasn't his thing, and Rachel was fine with that - she took all the time away from him that she could get.