𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐌 ➳ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Chapter 17 ~ Old-Fashioned Target Practice

"Daryl?!" I called out, my voice reverberating through the otherwise empty store.

Oh, gosh. This was not good at all. Swiveling my head around frantically, I still couldn't see him.

"DARYL!" I called out again, louder this time.

Suddenly, a familiar dark-haired head poked around the side of one of the shelves and I placed a hand over my fast-beating heart. He chuckled when he saw my worried expression and I rolled my eyes, huffing in annoyance.

"That was not funny," I snapped at him, frowning deeply.

"Sure, sunshine." he laughed as he began to make his way through the maze of shelves towards the back of the store.

Reluctantly, I followed him, our footsteps loud on the white tile. I dodged another dried spot of blood on the floor and picked up my pace to match his.

"So what are you going to show me?" I asked, glancing up at the profile of my father.

Bits of grime and dirt stuck to his face, making him seem even more unapproachable if that was even possible. But what made me stay was his eyes - deep blue but full of warmth when he looked at me. It made me feel as though maybe being here, spending time with him wasn't a waste of my time. As if maybe I was doing the right thing after all. He said nothing but when we rounded a corner, I knew why. In a large area barricaded by old chairs, sofas, cardboard boxes, and stools were over a dozen walkers wearing red Target employee t-shirts.

As we approached, their dead eyes focused on us and began to limp our way. The stench hit me immediately - rotting corpse mixed with the metallic smell of blood. I wretched at the odor, pressing a hand to my mouth as if to suppress it. Gosh, it wasn't good for a pregnant girl to be in here. My other hand went to my growing stomach and I glanced up at Daryl who looked back at me.

"What is all this?" I asked, uncovering my mouth to gesture to the enclosure.

"Found 'em on a supply run last week. Must've blocked themselves in here once the outbreak happened. Guess one was already on the verge of turnin' though," he answered, shrugging as he removed the crossbow from his back and placed an arrow in the barrel of it.

One of the walkers - a woman with pale pasty skin and dull red hair - lunged at me then, her arms desperately trying to reach past the legs of a chair. Nestled against her employee shirt, I spotted a nametag, 'Lydia' and a heart necklace with the name 'Jake' engraved on the rusted metal. I frowned, looking away from her.

"Poor souls..." I murmured softly, my fingers instinctively latching on to Owen's necklace at the base of my neck.

Daryl grunted in response and suddenly, his crossbow was placed in my hands. Startled, I glanced up at him.

"What-" I started to ask.

"Figured it was time for you to learn how to use it. Get a little target practice." he cut me off, his thick accent latching onto the word 'time'.

I almost laughed but bit it back. We were having target practice in Target. How ironic. Shaking my head free of my silly thoughts, I focused on the crossbow. It was heavier than I expected and I would've dropped it were it not for my quick reflexes. I gripped it tightly in my hands, the cool metal rubbing against my caramel skin. Clearing my throat, I positioned it against my shoulder.

"So, um...how do I use it?" I asked, a sheepish smile growing on my face.

A smile tugged at his own lips but he covered it up quickly, coming to stand behind me. Placing his hands gently over mine, he instructed me on how to hold it and aim the weapon. Soon, I figured it out and pushed hard on the trigger underneath. An arrow whizzed out, grazing one of the walkers on the arm. It didn't even make a noise, just kept on limping around. A sigh escaped my lips and I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration.

Daryl said nothing, instead choosing to let me figure it out on my own. I respected that. I hated being told what to do or how to do it. I preferred to do it myself - even if it was difficult. It was the only way I knew how to learn something - anything. Sticking my tongue slightly out of the corner of my mouth, I narrowed my eyes in concentration.

Pushing the trigger again, another arrow shot out and this time, embedded itself in the walker's head. I gasped before grinning up at Daryl.

"I DID IT!" I shrieked in delight, jumping up and down.

He smiled an almost fatherly smile and nodded. Pointing with a finger, he re-directed my attention back to the task at hand and I focused on the feel of the crossbow in my hand. Squinting one eye briefly to line up my target, I mashed down on the trigger again. This time, the arrow lodged itself into one of the walker's eyes. A thin trickle of blood pooled down the off-white jelly-like eyeball and I smiled, proud of myself. I finally was getting the hang of it!

After another half-hour of target practice, we decided to head back. The noon-day sun beat down on our backs, making my clothes stick to me. But the heat didn't bother me. All I could focus on was the memory of Daryl smiling down at me. Almost like he was...

"Proud of ya, today," he said suddenly, his voice low, "Ya did good,"

My head snapped up and I looked over at him but he avoided my eyes. He stepped into a ray of sunlight then and it lit up a faint blush splashed across his cheeks. I grinned.

"Thanks. I...had fun." I admitted, warmth spreading through me.

But not just from the sun. No, this was from the feeling of the sense that I'd Daryl proud. I made Daryl Dixon proud...and I couldn't be happier. Silence ensued then as we walked back to the motorcycle before he piped up again.

"Me too, Angel."