Scars Left Behind (The Walking Dead Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1: My Redneck Saviors

I'm tired of running. My legs are sore and about to give out. I slowed down a little bit until I heard the moaning of walkers getting closer. I picked up my pace.
I ran for another minute before stepping in a small hole and twisting my ankle. I fell to the ground and let out a loud cry of pain. I quickly forgot about the pain when a walker stumbled over and fell on top of me. His jaw snapped at my face as I held him back. Blood drooled from his mouth and all over my purple shirt.

"Get. The fuck. Off of me!!" I screamed out of frustration.

Suddenly, an arrow shot through his head. I threw the walker off of me and pulled my hunting knife from my boot, ready for whoever just shot that arrow. In front of me stood a man about my age holding a crossbow. Behind him was another man that looked a couple years older than the both of us.

"Get up!" Urged the man with the crossbow.

"I can't. I twisted my ankle." I told him.

"Ah come on! Daryl, let's just leave her!" Yelled the man behind the guy that I guess, is Daryl.

"Shut up Merle." Daryl threw his crossbow over his shoulder and leaned down next to me. He picked my slim body up with no problem. Daryl turned to face Merle. "I'm gonna carry her. Can you handle all the walkers back to camp?"

"Damn right I can!" Merle turned towards the incoming walkers and started picking them off. Daryl and I followed closely behind.

After awhile, the amount of walkers grew smaller. We made it to a small cabin before sundown. I'm guessing this is the camp Daryl mentioned earlier.
We quickly went inside and Daryl sat me down on the couch. In the room, there's a small TV in the corner, a fireplace that's already lit and a large deer head hanging above it. Daryl sat his crossbow down and ran into another room. Merle began nailing wood to the windows and the front door. He then covered the windows with old blankets.

"Dont want them biters to see the light." Merle said with a small chuckle.

Daryl came back in the room with a first aid kit. He sat down next to me and wrapped my ankle.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Ellie."

"Well Ellie, I'm Daryl Dixon and that's Merle. You can sleep in my room tonight. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Are you sure? I'm totally fine with sleeping on the couch." I told him.

"No it's fine. A girl needs her privacy in her own room anyway." Daryl picked me up and took me to his room. He sat me down on the bed and left.

I pulled the blankets up to my chest and rolled over on my side. I stared at the boarded up window. I could see the moon shining through the boards, which worried me that a walker could possibly look through and see me. But I'm too tired to worry or think about that. I've had a long day and I can't do anything anymore. I curl up in a ball and drift into a deep sleep.

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I smell something. Not just something. Food.

I opened my eyes and leaned up in my bed. I took one step on the hardwood floor and fell to my knees in pain. I forgot about my ankle. Carefully standing up, I sucked in the pain and limped my way to the door. I was about to walk into the living room when I realized how bad my bed head is. Honestly, I don't care if it's the apocalypse. My hair needs to look decently good. Especially in front of two guys I don't even know.
I tied my dark brown hair up in a bun and headed into the living room. Daryl is still sleeping on the couch and Merle is cooking something over the fireplace.

"Well good mornin' sweet cheeks. Want some breakfast?" Merle asked me with a small smirk.

"What's on the menu?" I sat down on an old lawn chair near the fireplace.

"Squirrel, Fresh. Caught it this morning." He handed me a plate of nicely cooked squirrel.

"Thanks." I've never had squirrel. I lived with an uptight rich family that never did anything fun like go hunting. We sat around a large table and ate dinner using fancy china plates and crystal clear wine glasses.

"How was your sleep?" Merle's voice woke me from my thoughts.

"It was good." I'm not lying. That was the best sleep I've had since this all started. I'm usually sleeping with one eye open.

"Really? There were two walkers outside your window this morning. Moanin' and groanin' like no other."

"Must've been hungry." I said with a sarcastic tone.

"Oh they were! They came at me with a mighty fight." Merle chuckled.

"Were there anymore out there?" I asked.

"Nope. Only those two."

"Then I should be going soon." I stuffed the last of my squirrel in my mouth, stood up and sat my plate on the chair I was sitting in.

"So soon?" I heard Daryl's groggy morning voice ask me.

"I don't want to be a burden." I limped back into Daryl's room and gathered my stuff. When I walked back to the doorway, Daryl was standing there leaning against the wall.

"You won't be. It's nice to have a face other than Merle's ugly-"

"Hey! Shut up!" Merle yelled from the living room, earning a laugh from me.

"What do ya say? Are you gonna stay?" Daryl asked.

I looked down and thought about it. I've came across other groups before and most of them fucked up somehow. It's either they're psychos or they get attacked by walkers and I'm forced to move on. But with Daryl and Merle it's different. Merle's a little unstable but I think Daryl will protect me.

"Ok, fine." I muttered with a small smile at the end.

"Cool. So, Merle and I were planning to head to a nearby town for more supplies. You wanna come? Well, as long as yer ankle is ok."

"It's fine. When are we leaving?"

"In five minutes so get your weapons and meet us outside." Daryl walked out of the room.

I open my brown leather bag and began digging around for my holster. Once I find it, I put it on and settle my pistol into its pouch. I dug around more to find my machete and hunting knife. Obviously, my stuck up family didn't have these kind of weapons. I got them from scavenging in houses.

I put my hunting knife inside my old black combat boots and kept hold of my machete in my right hand. I threw my bag over my back and headed outside. Daryl and Merle are already waiting for me by an old red truck.

"I'm drivin. Hop in the middle sweet cheeks." Merle ran over to the drivers side and got in.

Daryl opened the door to the passengers side and waited for me to get in. I threw my bag in the bed of the truck and sat down in the middle. He then sat down next to me, slamming the door shut. Merle pulled out of the driveway and we drove down the dirt road.