Floating (Sequel to Daring Dixon)

Chapter 1

The man sat alone in his room, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a picture in the other. It had been a while since they had passed; his beloved wife, his young, caring daughter. His baby girl. His wife. They were his everything. And he had lost them when a pack of those freaks had attacked.

Deep down he blamed himself for their deaths, for their reanimations. His wife had been put down almost immediately, but somehow he managed to save his daughter. He hoped there would one day be a cure for the ailment consuming her, but for now, he would leave it up to the scientist to experiment until there was something definitive.

He replayed the night once again in his mind. The sheer horror he had felt as he saw the wall of bodies approaching his wife and daughter, the sinking feeling as he realized that he was too late, that they were being devoured in front of his eyes. Then the sheer anger, as he lashed out and killed every last one of the monsters single-handedly.

He had taken them both to the infirmary then, but it was no use. His wife was dead before they got there and his sweet, precious little girl had died in his arms moments after arriving.

He had turned to whiskey then. It helped numb the pain, helped drown out the little voice in the back of his head that kept whispering to him, telling him that it was all his fault. That if there was a hell, he would be going there.

The man was on his last bottle of whiskey. He knew that he had to sober up. If not for himself, then for his group. He tried to lead them, to serve them, but he wasn't doing a very good job, especially while in a state of drunkenness. The man looked down at the half empty bottle, then back at the picture of his smiling daughter and wife, and screwed the cap onto the bottle. He stood, walked over to a cabinet, and tucked the whiskey in the back for a later date. He knew it was time to face the world like a man. It was what his beautiful, caring wife would have wanted. It was what his Penny would've wanted.

~~~

Rosaline blinked awake and realize she still lay on the cold tile floor, her head aching, her throat dry.  Her arm was killing her. She figured it was broken. She didn't know how long she had been lying there; as she had passed out after taking her tumble down the stairs, but she did know that if she didn't get up soon, something would get her. Either hunger or the hungry.

She vaguely wondered why neither Daryl nor Merle had come to find her, but then quickly threw out the thought. If Daryl and Merle hadn't come for her that could only mean the worst; they had suffered an even worse fate than she, and had been ripped into pieces by the herd of walkers.

The door in front of Rosaline began to rattle, and she knew the end was coming. Her arm was hurting worse than ever, and she almost hoped that one of those things would attack her and put her out of her misery. The only thing stopping that train of thought was how much she knew it would hurt to be ripped up by one of those things.

There was one last rattle of the door, and Rosaline was bathed in the bright light of noontime. She managed to lift her head somewhat off the tile floor, but had to almost immediately put it back down.

Two voices began to converse, and one of them sounded vaguely familiar, although she could not place it right away.

"Is it- do you think it's a walker?" asked the unfamiliar voice.

"She's breathing. She's alive, but she must only be holding on by a thread. We have to do something," said the familiar voice.

"We can't risk that. We take her out of here and a pack of those geeks surrounds us and then what?" asked the stranger.

"Fine, we'll check her pulse. If it's okay, we stay and try to get her up and running again. If it's slow we'll leave her here," said the familiar voice. Recognition dawned on Rosaline just as the voice got close enough for her to see.

"Rosaline?" asked the voice.

Rosaline blinked rapidly. "Andrea?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"You know her?" demanded the unfamiliar voice.

"She was in my old group. The one I was with before you found me," Andrea replied to the woman, who had taken to kneeling down next to the Rosaline, poised on her toes and ready to jump up at any moment. "She needs some water."

The other woman nodded, handing Andrea a bottle of water. Andrea took it and muttered a 'thanks' before opening Rosaline's mouth and pouring a bit inside. Rosaline gulped it hungrily. She was extremely thirsty.

Andrea seemed to notice Rosaline's thirst and poured more into her mouth, this dose being bigger than the last. Once again, Rosaline gulped it with intense thirst.

"How long have you been here?" Andrea asked.

It took Rosaline a minute to find her voice again. But when she did, it was slightly stronger than it had been when Rosaline had spoken the first time. "I'm not sure exactly. I was with Daryl and Merle and we got separated by... a bunch of geeks. I fell down the stairs and just woke up here," Rosaline replied. Andrea looked puzzled.

"Daryl and Merle left you here and didn't come looking for you?" Andrea asked skeptically.

"There were a lot of walkers. I doubt it if they're even alive themselves. But then again, I'm here, and I've got a lot less experience than they do so..." Rosaline trailed off.

"We'll search the area for any sign of them. But for now, you need to get better," Andrea insisted.

Before Rosaline could respond, the world went black.

~~~

Daryl sat on the couch inside the apartment that he they had stayed in on their first night in Trousdale. His face was blank, but inside he was waging a war on himself. He hated himself for letting her go. He hated himself for letting his ego get in the way. But most of all, he hated that he would never get the chance to reconcile for what had happened between himself and Rosaline.

Daryl knew Merle was laying in the bedroom, but he knew Merle was feeling just as guilty as he was and probably wasn't getting much sleep. Daryl sighed, stood, and picked up his crossbow from where it had previously resided on the floor. He needed to get out, get himself some fresh air. He couldn't just sit there anymore.

It had occurred to Daryl many times that Rosaline might've survived. But he knew, deep down, that if she had, she would have been knocking on the door, wondering why they left her behind. So far, she had not done so, and they had been back at the apartment since the everything had happened the night before, and the sun was now high in the sky, telling him it was around noon. They had been there almost a day. If Rosaline was coming back, she'd have been back already.

Daryl didn't bother to tell Merle where he was going. Merle was off alone by himself, and Daryl wasn't about to interrupt that. Besides, he didn't have to answer to anyone but himself anymore. He wouldn't answer to anyone anymore.

When Daryl got to the street level and opened the door, he was surprised to not find anything lurking behind the building. Not that he would've cared. He would've killed those mother fuckers and not given it a second thought. Those bastards were the reason that he'd never get to see Rosaline again. And he was going to make them pay, one way or another.

Hello readers! So I know that this is much different the first book, Daring Dixon, but I wanted to do it that way for a few reasons that you will find out later towards the end of this book. But mostly, the reason I changed the point of view to omniscient was so I could be inside everyone's heads. As much as I loved being a prisoner of Rosaline's mind, I like to explore the others as well.

So, any predictions so far? Who do you think 'the man' is? What is going to happen to Rosaline now that Andrea and the other woman have found her? Will Rosaline and Daryl ever reunite? Let me know in the comment section below.

And, as always, don't forget to vote, comment, and fan!

(Don't forget to check out my other TWD fanfic, Georgia On My Mind!)