ᴀɴɢᴜɪsʜ » ᴅᴀʀʏʟ ᴅɪxᴏɴ

{15} Black Funeral.

My attempt to make a piece with Dixon had failed. I could feel a lump form inside the middle of my throat. Trying to swallow it, I struggle. My mouth tries to form something, anything, but I can't find the right words. Holding the arrow tightly, I look down at it with disappointment.

Daryl must have noticed my expression change dramatically. Without warning, Daryl yanks the arrow from out of my grasp. Shocked by his action, I snap my head upward. He holds it, raising his chin.

"You always gonna follow me like a lost puppy?" Daryl questions in a calm tone.

"I don't follow you -" I start but he cuts me off by attaching his arrow onto his crossbow.

"If you say so, sunshine. I'll take your damn arrow and apology." He picks up his crossbow and places them into his shoulder.

"You're welcome, " I simply say before leaving him behind.

***

The drive to The Greene's took us only twenty minutes or so. Daryl led the way on his motorcycle, Andrea follows behind in a small vehicle she had taken a liking to back on the highway. While Dale, Carol, and I drove the RV behind them both. I sat on the passenger side just as before. With the map in hand, I watch in between the moving roads and the coordinates. Pulling onto a dirt road, the mailbox painted with the last name; Greene gives out the say that we found the place. Lowering the map, I watch as fields roll by. Cattle graze with their hearts desired. No walker to be seen.

My mouth slightly ajar as Dale slips a few words from out his own. This place is like some damn sanctuary. It was as if God or whoever sheltered this place from any harm. As we continued down the long dirt road, a large wooden white house comes to the end of it. People already stood out in front of the yard as we pulled up to the home. Jodie stood next to a blonde girl who looked a few years younger, holding what looked like rocks.

"This place can't be real, " I start as Dale placed the RV in park. Our eyes meet, but only for a moment. With excitement, I push from out of my seat, following behind Carol out the vehicle. The sun set perfectly in the sky. Beaming down onto us as we faced the others. I could see their eyes searching in between us as we face the others, trying to find any sign of Sophia. The five of us look back at them, searching for any sign for Carl. He doesn't stand among them, not did his parents hold grieving expressions.

"Well, how is he?" Dale questions from beside me.

Lori winked her vision from the sun, folding her thin arms across her chest. "He's doing okay. He'll put through. Thanks to Hershel and his people."

Looking over the unknown characters: An older man stood behind Rick and Lori. Who I assume is Hershel. Beside him stood a woman who held sorrowfully bloodshot eyes. Her head slightly stoops, but she tries to look back at us. The girl who rode on the horse yesterday stood on the top of the last step leading to the wide porch. A few strands of wispy hair clung to her gorgeous face as she glares down at our tired faces.

"And Shane!" Rick spoke with some enthusiasm.

Already aggravated, I look over to Shane who stood far off from the group. His hair clean shaved making his ears appear much larger. He wore a baggy shirt and overalls that nearly engulfs him. Small cuts splatter across his face. And the look of shame flicker across his face as Rick spoke about his bravery.

Something is off. Something that just did not fit. Shane held the same murderous look my clients would hold. What did he really do?