Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 55 - Resilience

Carol Peletier's hand trembled in her lap.

She lay alone in her bed, her skin pale, feverish, eyes closed lightly as she breathed steadily... Balancing the panic in her mind and the exhaustion that overtook her frail body.

Daryl stood by the door, not daring to step inside his friend's cell as Maggie urged Carol to stay awake for a moment longer.

"Eyes open, Carol..." Maggie murmured, her voice contrasting against the shallow breaths echoing the room. "Can you talk to us?"

Maggie looked back at the hunter, who had begun to stare down at his shoes in frustration. "We need your help..."

Daryl shook his head slowly, eyes landing back on Carol's unresponsive face. She was barely conscious, and sure as hell didn't look up to discussing what she'd been through only moments before.

Daryl stepped out from the middle of the doorway, sliding against the concrete wall just beside the barred frame.

Daryl Dixon's hand trembled in his pocket.

In his tight grip were three more throwing knives... Three little weapons that brought him hope and desperation and dismay.

"Carol?" Maggie's voice drifted for a moment as Daryl thumped the back of his head against the wall in his impatience. "Okay, okay... Just sleep."

He exhaled loudly, lifting his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

Exhaustion tugged at his mind, a fogginess clouding his thoughts as he pressed his head back against the concrete.

He'd found Carol only fifteen minutes earlier, trapped in a janitor's closet behind four walkers. He remembered how her face lit up when she saw him, slumped against a wall with the handle of a mop resting just beside her left shoulder.

Her face lit up, and then she passed out.

Daryl remembered how weak and tired she was, unable to speak, to keep her eyes open... To move.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt when he had helped her to her feet and aided her back to the prison cells... And when he arrived back he was met with thankful eyes, pats on the back.

The worst part of it all was that he promised he'd find both missing women... But he returned with only one.

Everyone knew it, but not a single soul dared ask about what happened inside the tombs.

"Hey." Maggie stepped out of the doorway, glancing aside towards Daryl as she stopped in her tracks. "Daryl, you alright?"

He exhaled, nodding once.

"You did great finding Carol... You know that right?"

Daryl looked up at the woman, dropping the knives in his pocket and pulling his hands to his chest, crossing his arms.

"Nah... It was nothin'." He scratched at his neck with his left hand, standing straight. "She, she gonna wake up anytime soon?"

"I'm not sure," Maggie said. "Look, if Carol's still alive, still breathing... There's still a chance that Amy is out there, holed up somewhere."

"Holed up like she was?" Daryl nodded back to Carol's cell. "I thought I was close t' finding her today. She, she wasn't with Carol."

Maggie nodded shortly, having gathered that much herself. She bit her lip and looked away for a moment, eyes narrowing as she thought.

"Maybe... Maybe they just got split up."

"Already thought'a that... But she left--" Daryl cut himself off as he reached back into his pocket. "She left these at every turn."