His Wings (D.D. fanfiction)

Chapter 13

I awoke to the gentle caress of sunlight on my face, prompting me to squint and shield my eyes from the radiant rays seeping through the fragile windowpane. With a yawn, I got up from the creaky, timeworn bed and stretched my limbs, feeling the stiffness of a night's sleep slowly dissipate. I made my way to the jumble of clothes strewn across the floor and got dressed – a crisp white shirt, snug dark jeans, and a sweater tied around my waist, in case I got cold. Retrieving my hearing aids, I grinned as the symphony of bird songs filled my ears.

A sudden, unexpected knock at my door sent me jumping, my heart racing as I swivelled around in alarm.

"Who is it?" I stammered, tension gripping my frame. The door swung open, revealing Daryl looking unimpressed.

"Who'd ya thank? Come on, we gotta get." He mumbled, and turned around to leave. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the room, and I sighed. I wondered what had happened to Daryl to make him like this, it couldn't of just me leaving, could it? He just seemed so angry and was constantly insulting people. He seemed more sullen and he never talked unless forced to, he seemed cruel in a reserved sort of way and unpredictable.

I followed him outside to the front porch and saw he had already started the motorbike.

"Get on," He growled, I obliged and scurried onto the motorbike and loosely wrapped my arms around his waist, I felt him tense up at the interaction and I nearly let go. I'm glad I didn't as he then revved the engine and we were speeding off.

We got to the hospital and I immediately hopped off of his motorbike. He stopped the bikes engine and focused on the crumbling building.

"Looks like it's falling apart, do you think it's safe in there?" I asked nervously, giving him a pleading look. He scrutinized me briefly, then scoffed.

"If we run into trouble, I'll handle it." He grunted and got off his bike. I made my way to the front entrance of the hospital with Daryl following closely behind when I felt his grip tighten suddenly on my arm, I startled, turning to find his face twisted in anger.

"Are ya dumb? Don't go that way." He snarled.

His words stung, but I swallowed my response and followed his lead. We circled around the side of the building, discovering a side entrance.

Daryl cautiously peered around the corner, crossbow at the ready, his gaze tracking the multiple staircases. One hand let go of the crossbow and gestured for me to come forward. I did and he lightly pushed me through the door and followed me. We crept up the stairs towards the second floor, Daryl pushing past me to lead the way. Once we reached the second floor, he examined the surroundings and lowered his crossbow, his demeanour slightly easing.

"Come," He instructed, and I fell into step behind him, shuddering at the eerie scene before us. The floor lay abandoned and unsettling, with scattered papers, blood-stained gurneys, and lights dripping with gore. I stood trembling behind Daryl, pistol in hand, while he glanced over his shoulder and hissed at me.

"Which way?"

I surveyed our surroundings, nibbling nervously on my lip in search of the path to a potential medication room.

"There's one probably down this way," I pointed to the long stretch of hallway. Daryl nodded and headed towards the direction I pointed in. I followed him closely behind, trying not to vomit at the blood stained marks across the floor and walls.

"This it?" Daryl muttered, pointing to a door with a sign above it saying 'Medication Room'.

"Yeah, looks like it." I told him, I put my hand on the doorknob but it wouldn't budge at all.

"Crap, it's locked." I cursed, struggling to force it open. I felt Daryl's presence close behind me and swallowed hard, peeking over my shoulder to see his stern face.

"Step back," he pushed me back forcefully and proceeded to start kicking at the door.

"Daryl that won't work-" as soon as I spoke the door broke open and wood splintered everywhere. He checked over his shoulder at me and gave me a smug look. I pushed past him and started to raid the cabinets.

"Grab antibiotics, painkillers, steroids, blood pressure measures, anything." I opened the rucksacks and started checking the bottles of medicine before placing them in the bag. 

Some things had gone past their date, but there were still some important bottles left; antibiotics, antihistamines, morphine and steroids.

"We have about everything that is still useable." I told him.

He peeked at me as he started to pick up the medicine and observe them with curiosity.

"That's morphine, it's deadly if over used. Plus, that one is decayed see how the liquid is yellow." I pointed, before turning my eyes back onto the steroids and shoving them in my bag.  

"I forgot ya know what ya doin." He grunted before a sudden strange look appeared on his face that made me concerned.

"Daryl—" I began to speak, but he swiftly placed a finger over my lips. The touch of his rough finger against my plump lips sent a shiver down my spine, warming me in an unexpected way. He removed his finger just as quickly, and panic began to creep in as he strained to listen. 

"Someone's here." He whispered softly, I tried not to panic at the thought of someone being in the same building as us; hiding, preying on us.

"What do we do?" I hissed back at him, anxiety coursing through my veins. He peered around the door with his crossbow at the ready.

"We run." Daryl grumbled and suddenly pushed me in front of him.

"Go!" He whispered urgently, and I clutched the rucksack tightly against my chest as I sprinted down the hallway, Daryl following closely. Bullets suddenly ricochet off the ambulance gurneys and I screamed with fear.

"Keep movin', don't stop!" Daryl snapped loudly at me, I looked over my shoulder and saw three men chasing us. Daryl lifted his crossbow with ease and shot one of the men in the arm. He cried with pain and Daryl was suddenly behind me pushing me down the stairs, my heavy breathing came out as small cries as I tried to not skip a step. The gunshots carried on as they shot at us through the stairs. I yelled with fear as the bullets barely grazed us. Daryl suddenly stopped and swapped to his gun, shooting at the people through the gaps of the railings.

"Go!" He signalled at me. I nodded vigorously and sprinted toward where the bike was parked. I raced across the asphalt ground, but I lost my footing and tumbled over something wet, pain shooting through my leg. Moaning, I realized I was drenched in blood as a freshly turned walker crawled toward me.

I tried kicking the walker, yet it grabbed onto my foot and tried bringing me to its snapping jaws.

"Get. Off. Of. Me!" I kicked at the thing violently but it wouldn't let go. A gunshot was fired behind me and went directly into the walkers head. It released my leg from it clutches and I skittered away from it. I snapped my eyes over to who had shot the bullet and saw Daryl, who was grabbing his arm that was bleeding.

"Daryl-"

"Get up." He brushed past me, one hand clutching his wounded arm as he limped toward the bike. Wincing, he climbed onto his motorcycle, started the engine, and revved it. I hopped onto the back, seeing that he had released his arm. I wrapped my arm around him.

"Can you drive?" I asked him, he ignored my question and started to pull away from the hospital. I peered at his wound as we travelled back and saw it had been grazed.

"We goin back to the house, I ain't leadin them to the prison." Daryl grunted, and I agreed.