Firecracker ➝ Daryl Dixon

Chapter 5: Help

Arden didn’t beg.  The thought of getting down on her knees with her hands clasped tight and her eyes squeezed shut made her stomach churn, the thought of doing that in front of Daryl made her want to puke.  Dark eyes followed the male as his shoes clanked against the metal stairs.  Cracked pink lips parted slightly as his name came to her tongue only to be forced back down her throat.  She could feel three pairs of eyes on her, their thoughts centered on what she would do.  What would she do?  It would be much easier to simply leave this place.  Bags slung over shoulder and head held high as she strutted into a world stained with blood and reeking of decay.  But what would occur after she left this place, when leaves crunched under her feet and eyes scanned the horizon in an attempt to tell the North from the South all while protecting herself from dead hunters.  The odds of survival would increase if that hot headed redneck accompanied her, but his assistance would require effort on her part.

The first few steps were timid, as if an incorrect move would set of a land mine.  “Daryl,” Arden grabbed a hold of the metal railing and increased her pace.  Maneuvering the stairs caused her lungs to flare and the muscles in her thighs quivered, “Hey, Daryl wait up!”  Blindly following someone, a man no less, was unfamiliar territory for the young woman and with each step she took a small piece of her pride was left behind.

His name came out as a hiss as Arden felt unfamiliar eyes tune into her actions.  She had yet to meet these people and here they were watching her chase after Daryl, she could only imagine the thoughts running through their heads.  Frustration began welling inside Arden as she knew that Daryl could hear her yet he wasn’t stopping or even flinching- as if her voice had no effect.   A high pitched cry echoed off the concrete walls, dancing through the prison bars and causing Arden to cease her pursuit. 

She twisted her waist until a young blonde girl came into her line of vision, and there in that girl’s arm was the whining infant.  Her attention shifted as she heard the soft thud of crutches gliding along the concrete floor.  In her panicked state Arden hadn’t noticed that Hershel moved with the aide of crutches and she couldn’t help but stare at the area where his leg should have been. 

“She okay?”  Rick’s voice was laced with vulnerability and concern as he walked towards the doe eyed blonde girl with outstretched arms.

“Probably just hungry, here,” A clear bottle filled with milk left Hershel’s hands and entered Rick’s whose blue eyes stared down at the baby in his arms.

Shoes scuffling along the ground indicated the arrival of the adolescent male whose distant eyes glanced up at Arden as if daring to ask a question but his lips were unable to form the words.  A sheriff hat sat upon his head- a point of interest for Arden and had she felt better perhaps she would have asked where he found such an interesting item.  Instead she licked her lips, feeling the dry skin with her tongue before looking down at the boy, “Whose baby is that?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed in response, his lips forming a straight line and hands remaining by his side, close to an empty gun holster.  “Who wants to know?”

“Arden,” her hand quivered as she extended it out in front of her, though the boy did not accept the gesture, “You can’t leave me hangin.”

“Carl,” he nodded his head once as if here were an adult who did not believe in handshakes, “That’s Judith.”

“Judith huh?  Pretty name.”

“Daryl nicknamed her Lil’ Ass Kicker.”

Eyes rolled as Arden’s head fell forward, her eyes examining her scuffed up boots, “Of course he did.  Hey Carl, you friends with Daryl?”