Sydney Dixon

Chapter twelve

Sydney's POV

Rick and Shane's plan was simple, bring Randall 18 miles out and leave him with only a knife to fend for himself. However, everyone was confused when they came back from their trip bloody and beaten, Randall still tied up in the trunk. I guess there was a walker infestation, but that doesn't explain why Rick and Shane have red human blood all over them.

I sit with the rest of the group, around an unlit campfire. Daryl has been interrogating Randall for the past 20 minutes. Something tells me he is doing more than interrogating.

"Hey Syd" Carter smiles, taking a seat in the open chair next to me.

"Hey Carter" I return the exchange.

Andrea speaks up when Carter intertwines our fingers together, "Is there a plan?"

"Are we gonna keep him here?" Glenn asks.

Rick and Shane look at each other, "We'll know soon enough"

Rick nods behind us, causing me to shift my body. Daryl walks towards us with bloody knuckles, crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"Boy there's got a gang, 30 men. They have heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women,"Daryl glances to me, "Are gonna with they were"

Carol looks to Daryl's hand, "What did you do?"

"Had a little chat" He responds. I roll my eyes, watching Carol walk away

"No one goes near this guy." Rick announces

"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asks in a low voice.

Rick takes a deep breath, "We have no choice. He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat"

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale asks in disbelief.

"It's settled. I'll do it today" Rick nods, walking off. Dale is fast to catch up to him and start debating.

I look to my uncle, standing up, and grabbing his wrist.

"What're ya doin?" He tries to pull away.

"We're going to clean your hand off" I announce, tightening my grip and walking faster

To my surprise, he doesn't pull away or curse under his breath, he follows me without a fight. I loosen my grip and allow him to walk beside me.

When we reach the barn, I move towards the water hose and turn the spout. Daryl takes his place on a tree stump. I sit before him on my knees.

It is silent for a while, until I start conversation, "I miss my dad"

He scoffs, "Why? He was nothin but awful to ya"

"He was still my dad." I tense my jaw, bringing my fingers over Daryl's knuckles and scrubbing the blood off.

"I miss him too" Daryl mumbles. I look up to him with a smile, happy to know he is willing to share his feelings with me. Daryl is by far the toughest man I know, but he has a heart.