Daryl's Angel (Book One in the Apocalypse Angel Trilogy)

Chapter 24: Chupacabra

I sit in my tent back at camp, folding my clothes. I would be doing something more helpful, but I'm not supposed to move around a lot. If I didn't have the majority of the camp; Rick, Lori, Carl, Daryl, Dale, Glenn, yada yada yada, insisting that I rest, I'd be washing the clothes instead of just folding them.

The sun is going down, and I yawn, feeling extremely tired again. I bet if it'd been Carl who got shot he'd still be resting.

We eat some of the food we packed for supper and retire to our tents.

"You did a nice job in here," Daryl comments when we get inside.

"Thanks. I tried," I reply as we climb into our cots.

"If you have any nightmares, it don't matter if you wake me," Daryl says from his bed.

"Thank you." I lie on my back, looking at the roof of the tent. There's a long silence, and a question begs to be answered in the back of my mind. "Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you act completely different around me when we're alone? You always act like a big, tough badass when we're with the others, but with me you're kind and caring."

"I don't trust nobody. I don't want anybody to know too much about me," he says, turning to me. "I only trust you. No one else."

"Not even Rick? You have to be able to trust someone," I say.

"Maybe one day. Right now, it's too risky."

"Don't you care about the others? I know you care about Carol. You wouldn't be trying so hard to find Sophia if you didn't care about her."

"I do care about Carol. No one should have to lose their little girl." Daryl sighs and closes his eyes.

"What'd she think?" I ask.

"Bout what?"

"The rose you gave her."

"I think she liked it. She started cryin' when I told her the story."

"I'm glad she liked it...Good night."

"Good night."

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The morning starts out normally. Get up, get ready, and go help with whatever needs doing. I help Carol with the laundry, which is no easy task to do by hand.

"I miss my washer so badly right now," I say, looking at my reddened hands.

She laughs. "Don't we all?"

I smile. I grab another shirt from my pile and start scrubbing it. When it's clean, or at least as best as I can get it, I hand it to Carol, and she rinses it and hangs it up.

"You don't have to be out here," she says. "You should be healing."

"I can heal while I pull my weight," I retort, smirking.

We keep going, and Carol's eyes travel upwards.

"Morning Lori," she says.

Lori is walking towards us, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Can't believe I slept in," she mumbles.

"It's alright. You need your sleep," I say.

She nods, grabbing one of the clean shirts and hanging it up.

"The big kitchen in Hershel's house has got me thinking," Carol says. "Maybe we should cook up a nice dinner for Hershel and his family. You know, to say thanks."