Broken strings---➤ Daryl Dixon

19

"You didn't have to be so stubborn," He says, but I can tell it's lighthearted.

"You're one to talk." I roll my eyes, even though it's too dark to see. We sit in silence for a while, except for the sounds of me shivering relentlessly. Suddenly in the darkness, I feel an arm wrap around me and I'm pulled close into Daryl's chest. The thin blanket is pulled up to my face and soon my body becomes intertwined with his.

"If you get sick I'm going to be thoroughly pissed off at you," I say

I feel his shoulders shrug, "I'll be fine." I breathe in the scent of pine and leather which brings me comfort and at some point, I manage to drift off to sleep.

I spent nearly six days straight in bed, but at least each night Daryl would be there with me and this time he would still be there when I woke up.

The snow had begun to melt, and flowers began to bloom. We had survived the winter, still working on our routine of making our way through the streets of houses, however, now hordes of walkers had begun to migrate. We were running out of places to go, the hordes cutting us off in multiple directions. Each day Rick would get more and more frustrated, the idea of a place we can stay long term becoming more distant. At least the weather's a bit warmer. 

All of us sit in a new random living room, dividing our food as best as we can once again. The familiar silence settled over us. Lori is now heavily pregnant and I can tell that Rick is majorly concerned, even if he tries not to show it. A few days ago I had given her that baby blanket I had found whilst out with Daryl. I was waiting until we were somewhere secure but I also wanted to give it to her before she had the baby. She was thankful but I think also on the verge of tears. We are so unprepared for a baby to be a part of this.

Whilst the others are either resting or scavenging, Daryl asks Rick and I if we want to go hunting with him. We walk for a while, I shoot at a few squirrels but it's still not enough. We follows a set of train tracks, I walk along the edge, keeping myself balanced when the trees and shrubbery clear, and what lies behind it is a tall, fenced-off prison.

"Shame," Daryl begins, also noticing it, "There are walkers everywhere."

In the distance, we could see the outline of maybe 50 walkers roaming in the gated fields, and that didn't even tell us just how many were inside. I could see a glint in Rick's eyes. He knew that this had to be it, and I knew he would fight for it.

Rick rushes us back to the group, a newfound hope in his step as we lead them all back to this prison.

 We work quietly, killing walkers with knives, bows and axes rather than gunfire. Once inside, the walkers inside the prison take notice of us as there is only a chain fence between us. We push forward, my shoes hitting the gravel path.

We spot an open gate over by the main area of the prison, that's what's letting more walkers spill into the field. We come up with a plan that if we can shut that gate we can clear the field and stay here for at least tonight.

"I'll go," Glenn volunteers, to which Maggie rejects. Rick splits us off into pairs to cover different areas and then says that he will shut the gate. I climb up one of the towers with Daryl, watching as some of the other start to draw the walkers away. I aim carefully, just as I always do, my body finding it's rhythm as soon walkers are going down faster than I can count. Rick makes a run for the gate, and a sense of deja vu washes over me as I shoot any walkers that get to close to him.

The day of the tank. I think to myself, and how far we've come since then. How close I've gotten with everyone here, including the hunter beside me. My hopeless crush has only deepened as the seasons change, but so has the fear of how humiliating it would be to face rejection from him. Sometimes, walkers are less terrifying than that. So, I shove it down, burying it deep, and instead fire arrows into walkers' skulls. Being his friend is enough.