CHEROKEE ROSE (D. DIXON)

10.

Ears ringing, I feel a hand yank me to my feet, and I'm running. Disoriented, I sprint as fast as I can across the lawn, keeping my eyes on the feet of whoever runs in front of me. The groans of digos and the pants of the others fill the humid air.

Daryl throws his pickup door open, tossing his crossbow in the back and starting the engine.

"C'mon, lets go!" Daryl calls, starting the engine.

I slide into the passenger seat, breathlessly slamming the door.

I look at the RV sitting motionlessly in front of us. "Why aren't we moving?" I scan the area until I see Dale and Andrea stumbling towards us, answering my own question.

"Shit! Get down!" Daryl commands. I copy him as we duck underneath the dashboard.

I hear the loudest sound I've ever heard in my life, squeezing my eyes shut as I clamp my hands over my ears. I can feel the heat of the explosion, and look up when I see the seven-story flames licking the sky, a plume of black smoke rising from where the CDC once was.

"Thanks." I turn to Daryl. "For covering me back there."

He side eyes me, clearing his throat as turns back to the road.

As we pull away from the explosion, I wonder if the people at Whiterock can see the column
of smoke, watching it until it is too dark to see.

•••

We drive for three days before we encounter any problems.

Per the others' votes and need for fuel, we leave behind Shane's jeep and Daryl's truck after the first day.

I lean against the side of the truck as Daryl clears out his things, pouting. "I don't want to be in the RV with Shane." I complain.

Daryl glances up at me as he stuffs some things in a bag. "He won't say anything. Hell, I doubt he even remembers, he was so shit-faced."

I shrug. "That's fair. I don't remember a lot either." I smile sheepishly.

Daryl studies my face for a moment. "Do you remember what you said to me?"

My eyes falls to the asphalt beneath my boots. "Yes."

He shuts the door, throwing the bag over his shoulder. "Why'd you tell me?"

I look into the trees rather than meet his gaze. "I had to tell someone, it was eating me up inside." I pause. "I felt like you would understand."

Daryl nods, fastening his things to Merle's motorcycle and looking up at me with crystal blue eyes. "Yeah, I get it."

"Thanks." I half whisper as he starts up the obnoxiously loud thing.

Two days later, we run into a blocked highway, cars hopelessly entangled and sitting in and out of lanes.

"See a way through?" Dale asks when Daryl rides past the window.

He nods, jerking his head toward the traffic jam. We weave our way between abandoned cars, doors eerily left open by their drivers. I swallow when I see a body still sitting upright in a drivers seat, frozen in time.