All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 39

I shut the door behind me, lock it, and continue searching the house. It's only one story with two bedrooms, so it doesn't take long for me to check every room. After deciding the house is safe, I set Sam on the floor. My arms ache from carrying him. He tells me he's hungry and I don't know what to do.

The kitchen is small and there's no dining table. After looking through the cabinets, I find a few cans of fruits and vegetables.

"Sammy, go sit at the coffee table," I shout.

I grab a plate and two spoons from one of the cabinets and head for the living room. Sam sits in front of the small table like I asked and he smiles at me when sees me. I crack open the can using the edge of the table and pour out the fruit cocktail on the plate. I let Sam eat first.

"Where Daddy?" he asks with a mouthful of peaches. "He in there?" He points to the master bedroom where the door is slightly cracked open. His question makes me want to vomit. It reminds me of how alone I am. It reminds me that Daryl could be dead. That even if he is alive, I won't see him again.

Tears sting my eyes. "No, Daddy's not there. He'll be back in a few days." I don't know what else to say; I know I can't tell him the truth.

Sam nods and keeps eating. When we both finish, I carry him into the master bedroom and he cuddles next to me on the queen-sized bed. The sheets reek of dust, but I still wrap them around us and pull Sam close to my chest so he can steal my body heat while we sleep.

He crashes instantly. But I can't fall asleep. Daryl is all I think about. I should've told him to come with me. I shouldn't've left him out there. I hope he is dead. I hope he's not worrying about us. I hope he's not risking his life trying to find us. I hope he's dead. I think he'd be happier dead.

I wish I was dead. I wish that blast would've killed us both. I can't provide for us. Eventually the cold, or starvation, will kill us. I don't know the first thing about kids. I can't take care of Sam.

Eventually, I fall asleep but it's dreamless.

I don't know how many days pass, but they're all the same. I scavenge the neighborhood and find enough cans of food to last us a few weeks if we ration them right. I'm basically living off nothing because I give it all to Sam.

He cries. A lot. He's finally figured it out that Daryl isn't coming back. I try to distract him but he doesn't listen to me. He screams so loud he attracts a few walkers to our door. I kill them with my knife and it's not hard to figure out that we're not safe anymore.

I collect the snow that's outside into bowls I find around the house and bring them inside so it can melt into water. The only thing we have going for us is that we're hydrated. Inside a few of the neighboring homes, I find clothes for us to wear. Most of the clothes are too big for Sam, but he stays warm. I even find him a few toys and that cheers him up a little.

We stay inside for a majority of the day. I let him play outside for a few minutes in the afternoon so he can be outside in the snow. We build snowmen and make snow angels. After we play, we always destroy them so no one knows that we live here. I even cover my tracks.

I try not to think about Daryl. I think about him a lot. I feel his absence greater than I thought I would. It kills me when I think that the last thing I said to him was that I had given up. I should've kissed him. I should've told him that I loved him one more time, even if he didn't care. Even if he didn't want to hear it. There's an ache in my heart from where he should be. Daryl should be here. He should be next to me. He should be with us.