Broken strings---➤ Daryl Dixon

10

The sun is still high as Daryl and I make our way through the trees. The other night Daryl had found a trail which we were following and earlier we had found a childs doll lying near some bushes, we are fairly certain it was Sophia's. After a while, I finally decide to speak. "Do you think we have much of a chance of finding her?" I don't intend to sound so pessimistic but it's been a few days now and the chances must get slimmer as each hour passes.

"People get lost and they survive. It happens all the time." Daryl tells me, but I point out to him she's a twelve-year-old girl and there are dead people wandering about.

"Hell, I was younger than her and I got lost. Nine days in the woods eating berries, wiping my ass with poison oak."

I almost laugh at the absurdity of Daryl's story. "I'm surprised you weren't skinning squirrel at the same time." I say with a grin.

"My old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doing another stint in juvie. I made my way back. Went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear. Except my ass itched something awful." I can hear the smirk in his tone and I can't hold back my laughter any more.

"Sorry, it's a horrible story. Hilarious, but horrible nonetheless."

As we continue, I allowed myself to enjoy the serenity. Then, the horse's ears flicked forward, its body tensing beneath us. It stops abruptly, snorting and pawing at the ground. Before either of us can react, the horse rears back with a loud whinny, panic overtaking it. My stomach dropped as I lost my grip.

"Whoa! Easy!" Daryl growled, yanking the reins, but it was no use. The horse bucks violently, and the next thing I knew, I was airborne.

I scream as I hit the ground hard, rolling uncontrollably down a steep hill. My shoulder slammed into a jagged rock, pain exploding in my arm, but the momentum kept me tumbling. Branches scratched at my skin, my bow digging into my back. I can hear shouts from Daryl but it's hard to pinpoint where it's coming from. Before I could stop myself, my head strikes something solid.

"This isn't going to work." I sigh, tapping the rolled-down window of the car. Glenn and I have been trying to get out of Atlanta for over three hours and the sun is starting to set.

"We have no choice." Glenn presses and so we sit and wait, and move inch by inch until we reach a highway just outside the city. We are still surrounded by cars but we are as far out as we are going to be. Nothing has moved in over a hour.

"Maybe we should go out of foot?" I suggest. Glenn looks at me skeptically, "It's dark outside." He points out the obvious.

"Alright you wait here then."

I get out of the car and hear him groan in frustration as he gets out as well. We start to walk forward when I almost bump into a man.

"Watch it pretty." The man exclaims in a heavy southern accent.

I'm tempted to tell him what I think, when a man from behind shoves him forward. "Come on Merle keep moving."

My eyes meet the younger man, who's carrying a crossbow,

"Mine's bigger." I wink at the stranger and tap my bow before moving forward with Glenn. From there we spot an friendly-looking old man and his RV.

I gasp for breath. My eyes snap open. I cough, trying to clear any lake water from my throat. My whole body aches, even in places it has never ached before. Something on my leg and arms sting, but as I blink and my vision clears my whole body becomes alert to the walker that is knawing on Daryl.