Scars Left Behind (The Walking Dead Fan Fiction)

Chapter 5: Seven Bottles of Wine

Daryl pounded on the glass door of the Dollar General store. We had already peeked inside and there's not a walker in sight but we wanna be cautious.

We waited about five minutes and none of those things came pounding on the door, so we just went inside.

Most of the stuff was all gone but from what I could see, they still had a little bit of canned foods lying around.

I started off down the aisle with a bright yellow basket in hand. About halfway down the aisle, I already have two bags of white rice, a can of almonds, a couple of cans of beans, a box of green tea packets, and one can of corn in my basket.

I can't wait to have a cup of green tea. It's not my favorite kind of tea, but it's tea.

I made my way down the aisle that had the blankets and piled a bunch in my basket. My basket is starting to overflow so I rush over to the red truck and set it down in the bed of the truck. I hurry back inside only to hear Daryl's voice yell out.

"Holy shit!"

"Daryl?!" I screamed, terrified that he got attacked or something.

"Down here!" His voice echoed down aisle five. I ran down the aisle to find him standing in front of a wine cooler, holding a bottle of red wine. "Hell yes!"

I laughed at his reaction of finding alcohol. Most of it had been raided at the beginning of the apocalypse so it's very rare to find it these days.

"It's cheap wine but it'll do." Daryl told me.

"How many bottles?" I asked.

"Eight."

Yep, that'll get us schnockered, I thought.

"Can you get a basket?" Daryl asked me.

"Yeah." I ran back to the front of the store and reached for another yellow basket. I made my way back over to the beginning of aisle five only to be stopped by a hand wrapping around my ankle. I screamed and fell to the ground, hitting my head hard on the tile floor.

"Ellie!" I heard Daryl's voice yell out along with a shatter of glass. I looked down the aisle to see Daryl had dropped the wine bottle he was holding.

My eyes became blurry. I flipped over to face the walker that had hold of me. From what I could see, the walker was trapped under a fallen cabinet. He had one leg missing and his face torn apart with blood dripping down it. I could see all of his teeth as he tried to bite through my boots.

Daryl finally showed up and stomped the walkers head in, spraying blood all over my black skinny jeans.

The walker finally died, again, and Daryl pulled me to my feet. The blurry in my eyes slowly went away.

"Are you okay? You hit your head pretty hard." Daryl said while looking around my head for any blood or bumps.

"I'm fine. Let's just, get our shit and go." I muttered.

He agreed and lead me down the aisle so we could collect the wine. I stared down at the broken wine bottle. The red wine looked like blood splattered all over the white tile floor.

"That makes seven bottles." I huffed.

"Yeah.." Daryl laughed.

Daryl put everything in the bed of the truck and I waited in the passengers seat. He finally got in and started the truck. We drove back down to the highway.

"That was a close one." I giggled. A sense of humor is one of the many things needed in a world like this. If you don't have a laugh every time you almost die, you're gonna end up dying.