It was peaceful at first. The sound of rushing water, the coolness of the Earth, the sun peeking through the trees at him. Maybe he had died and gone to Heaven.
He snorted at the thought, and closed his eyes. There was no Heaven for him. Just a fiery pit of rotting corpses known as Hell. But he'd already been there for the past few months.
He saw her as soon as he reopened his eyes. Her hair was golden like the sun, eyes like an angel's, and he knew then that he was not in Hell, because she wouldn't be in such a place. She kneeled down next to him in the mud, her white dress creasing as she sat down on her knees.
"What happened to us?" She asked in a voice like honey. She ran her hands through his hair, and Daryl wanted to reach out and touch her, but he couldn't make his arms move.
What had happened to them?
"I lost you, baby." He muttered through dry lips. He could remember the night, like it had been last night.
The reports had been non-stop. People coming into the hospital with weird bites, waking up with what the doctors thought to be rabies.
But it was worse.
Daryl was on his way to Gabrielle's house to pick her up. Things were beginning to get a little freaky around town. People were rushing to the stores to stock up on food and supplies, and while Daryl knew he should be doing the same, all he wanted was Gabrielle next to him.
As he drove on, something rather macabre happened. A woman came running at his truck from one of the rural roads that lead back into the woods. She held her hands up, trying to stop him, and she was hysteric.
"Please! Help me, please!" She shrieked.
Daryl slightly rolled down his window. "What's the problem?"
"My neighbor, Pat, she's been ill. And now she's...she's..." The woman broke into sobs and held up her arm. "She bit me! See! She's gone mad!"
Daryl was taken back. "Ma'am, I think you need to call the ambulance, or the police."
"No, the police lines are all busy. The hospitals are all full, and riddled with crazy people. It's just...Pat isn't herself." Tears were streaming down her face by now.
"Please, sir, will you come look. My husband is away in Atlanta."
Daryl wanted to hit the gas and get to Gabrielle as fast as he could, but he knew she would want him to help this woman. He sighed, "Alright."
She opened the cab door. "Oh, thank you so much. It's the first house on the right." She instructed as Daryl turned onto the dirt road.
"She doesn't have that rabies-thing does she?" Daryl questioned.
"No! She's just been really ill, and I hadn't heard from her in a day or two so I called to check in...she didn't answer." The woman shook her head and wiped her eyes. "And then I went to check on her this morning and she wasn't herself. I woke her up and then she bit me! And then she chased me around her house, so I ran...and ran..." The woman let out a deep sigh. "I just...I just feel sick about this whole thing."
Daryl turned into the driveway, and stopped. The little, two-story white house looked peaceful enough, but if only he knew what horrors it was harboring inside.
He got out, and so did the woman, though she was sweating now. He pulled his crossbow from the bed of the pick-up, and her eyes grew wide.
"What's that for?" She demanded.
"You said the lady attacked you. I'm just taking precautions." Daryl shrugged. The woman lead the way, and Daryl noticed that she was pale and clammy, and a bit unsteady in her walk.
"Pat!" She called upon opening the door. "Are you alright?"
No response. Only thing to be heard was the shuffling of footsteps from down the hallway.
"Pat?"
Daryl look over the woman's shoulder at Pat. Something wasn't right about her. She shuffled along, gasping moans escaping from her lips as she reached out towards them, and her skin was grey and sagging, and not just with age. She smelled pretty rancid, too.
"Pat, it's me, Lucille." The woman said. If Pat heard her, she didn't act like she understood, but began to shuffle faster. "Are you feeling alright? Why did you bite me?"
Daryl pulled at the back of Lucille's blouse. "Hey, look lady, I think-"
"Oh my God!" Lucille gasped. "Your eyes, Pat!"
Daryl couldn't see from where he was, but he didn't want to get any closer. Lucille, however, took a step towards Pat...a big mistake. Pat seized hold of Lucille's arm and then grabbed her hair. Before Daryl could react, Pat had taken a chunk out of Lucille's neck, and Lucille was screaming.
Whatever was wrong with Pat, she was no longer human. Daryl lifted his crossbow and fired, sending a bolt right through Pat's forehead. The two women dropped to the ground, the both of them dead.
Daryl sprinted out of the house and back to his truck with a new determination: He had to get to Gabrielle before something like this happened to her.
The snapping of a twig brought him back to present day.
"Why don't ya pull that arrow out, dummie? You could bind your wound better."
Daryl chuckled, knowing for sure that he was in Hell now. "Merle."
"Mm, what's going on here?"
Daryl looked back for the Angel, but she had vanished. She had always managed to elude him when Merle was around.
"You takin' a siesta or something'? Come down to river to pray?" Merle chuckled. Daryl knew by Merle's hand that he was, in fact, a hallucination. This didn't mean he was any less of an asshole.
"Shitty day, bro." Daryl muttered. His good deeds had left him in a bad spot.
"Like me to get you a pillow? Rub your feet, too?" Merle mocked.
Daryl rolled his eyes. "Screw you."
"Uh-uh. You're the one screwed from the looks of it. All them years I spent tryin' to make a man of ya." Merle shook his head. "That little Saint went a made ya soft, eh? Look at you now, lying in the dirt like a used rubber. All for what, huh?"
"Girl." Daryl said, licking his dry lips. "They lost a little girl."
"Oh, so you got a thing for little girls, huh?"
"Shut up." Daryl snarled.
Merle snorted. "I noticed you ain't out lookin' for ole' Merle anymore."
Daryl shook his head, rolling it back and forth in the dirt. "Tried like hell to find you."
"Like hell you did." Merle scoffed. "You split man. Let out first chance you got."
It was Daryl's turn to scoff. "You let out. All you had to do was wait, and we went back for ya...me and Rick."
"This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop? Forced me to cut off my own hand? You telling' me your somebody's bitch now?"
"I ain't nobody's bitch." Daryl muttered.
Merle laughed. "You sound like that little saint girl, first time we met her in the bar. Nice ass. Is that why you went for her?"
"Shut up!" Daryl hissed, and tried to kick him, but to no avail.
"You're a joke is what you are." Merle continued. "Playing errand boy to all the pansy-ass democrats. Hm! You're nothing but a freak to them. Redneck trash. That's all you are."
"Not to her." Daryl looked around, hoping to find where his Angel had run off to.
"They're laughing at you behind your back. Ain't that right? Well I got news for you, son. One of these days, they're gonna scrape you off their heels like you's dog shit."
Daryl's eyes rolled in the back of his head, earning him a quick thump on the chest from Merle. "Hey! They ain't your kin. Ain't your blood. Now get you're ass up and go shoot your pal Rick in the face for me." Merle grabbed Daryl's jaw, and turned his head towards him. "Now you listen to me; ain't nobody gonna care about you 'cept me, little brother." He patted his cheek. "Ain't nobody ever will."
'She will.' Daryl thought
"Now get up before I have to kick your teeth in." Merle stood, and then began to kick at Daryl's feet, ordering him up. The haze began to clear, and Daryl realized that a walker was chewing at his shoe.
* * *
Daryl sped up the gravel driveway, greeted by the typical ground of hounds. His heart was racing as he pulled to a stop, and then it dropped.
The truck was gone, and the windows that were usually opened were now closed and locked. The screen door that was usually left open in summer was now closed off, and a single flap of paper was left on the main door.
'Daryl' it read, 'We're going to my sister's house in Atlanta. My mom believes we'll be safe there. Please, if you can, join us. The address is on the back of this paper.
Love you, be safe
Gabry'
Daryl felt his face flush as he plucked the note off the door and shoved it into his pocket. The dogs all gathered around, too dumb to understand. Daryl couldn't believe Gabry would just leave them here, but as he looked around, he noticed a twenty pound bag of dog food had been dumped on the side of the porch and a large bucket of water had been filled. The dogs had been left behind, but not forgotten.
He ventured out to the barn, where the horses grazed unknowingly. The family had set all of their hay bales out, and their trough had been filled to the brim. Daryl also noticed that a section of barbed wire had been cut by the barn. What were they expecting to happen? How long were they planning on being gone?
Daryl knew the animals would have better chances on their own, so he left to pick up Merle, and then the two of them would head to Atlanta. One, for safety, and two, for Gabry.
On his way back up the road, someone stood at the end of the rural dirt road leading to Pat's house: Lucille. Daryl blinked twice, focusing on the gaping hole in the side of her neck that still squirted blood. Her arms were up in the air, not to summon him, but to catch him.
He drove past her as fast as he could, and high tailed it to Atlanta.
* * *
Gabry hadn't been where the address had said. Those apartment buildings had been evacuated, and Daryl found no sign of her. Of course, throughout the time he was in Atlanta, he couldn't help but think Gabry was among the hordes of walkers. That was as far as he'd let himself go, not wanting to think about what might've happened to her.
"I tell you what." Merle was saying as Daryl hoisted himself up the ravine. "I'm about as real as you're chupacabra."
After what felt like hours of struggling through pain and exhaustion, Daryl was trying to get his mind together. And that meant getting Merle out of it.
"I'm sure them shrooms didn't have nothing to do with that."
"You shut the hell up. I know what I saw." Daryl said, grabbing onto a sapling as he clawed his way up the bank.
"Or what? You gonna come up here and shut my mouth for me?" Merle taunted. "Well come on up here and do it then, if you think you're man enough!"
He really wished Gabry was here.
"Hey! Kick off them damn heels and climb, Darlena!" Merle snapped.
Daryl growled. "You know, I know you're not actually there. You weren't there then, and you're not here now. Nothing's changed."
"Well you're pretty little girlfriend ain't here either, brother." Merle snapped. "If she cared so much about you, where is she?"
"Shut up!" Daryl growled.
"Hey, I'm here to help." Merle reached out his hand. "Come on, grab ole pal Rick's hand."
Daryl finally reached over the lip of the ravine, ready to kick his hallucinated brother's ass. "Yeah, you better run!"
* * *
Daryl had never been one to believe in anything he couldn't see. His father worshipped the bottle, and his mother worshipped the smoke. Merle worshipped pleasure; be it sex, alcohol, drugs or doing whatever he damn well pleased. Daryl, come to think of it, had worshipped nothing. He wasn't raised on religion, he had no salvation, and would not be persuaded to believe in some body-less figure. Especially when it seemed that this "merciful God" had merely turned His nose up at him when Daryl needed Him.
That wasn't until Gabrielle convinced him to go to church with her. He'd worn his cleanest shirt, even combed his hair, and suffered through all the scornful looks for her. From time to time, she'd give his hand a squeeze, reminding him who's opinion really counted.
Both he and God loved that girl.
The note he'd taken from her house had held more information than just where to find her. There was another macabre message on the back, "Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead." - Isaiah 26:19.
Gabrielle was leaving him clues. One, nowadays, people would so easily look over.