Fight With You - Daryl Dixon X OC

Chapter Two

Alley

The top of the tank opened and I took off.

I sprinted out of the alley and switched out my gun for my buck hunting knife, my gun swinging onto my back by the strap.

Looking forward, I see Mr. Kentucky pop up through the top and whack the Walker on the tank with a metal shard, slicing its jaw wide open.

"Oh, that's fucking brutal," I mutter quietly to myself with a grin. "wish I'd done that."

I reach the tank as he jumps down, landing weirdly and rolling to a stand, and we make a run for it. He fires his pistol, taking out the walkers in our way as I push the ones to the side, burying my knife in the skulls of any that get too close, hoping to whatever higher power out there that it didn't get stuck.

Mr. Kentucky spares a glance at me before turning into the alley, spotting someone and raising his gun.

"Whoa! Not dead!" The guy - by his voice it was safe to assume this was the guy from the walkie - holds his hand up for a split second, before ushering us through the alley.

"Come on! Come on! Back here! Come on! Come on!"

We ran down the alley towards a ladder.

I got there first, so I grabbed the rungs and began climbing as fast as possible, not caring that my gun strap had slid down and was precariously swinging about my elbow, hitting the rungs with each upward motion.

"What are you doing?! Come on!"

I looked below me to see Mr. Kentucky turning and trying to shoot more walkers until he was grabbed and made to climb.

"Come on, get up!"

We all collectively climbed the ladder as quickly as we could, catching our breath on a walkway.

I hold onto the rust-peeled railing, taking in massive breaths, my heart feeling as if it were about to burst right out of my chest and down to the Walkers below.

I turn to look at the men, finding them doing the same.

The guy from the walkie-talkie was relatively tall, probably my height or more when stood straight. He had black hair pulled back from his face by his cap, and brown eyes that were blinking rapidly as he all but heaved.

Not going to lie though, he looked like a Pokémon trainer with the cap and overly large backpack.

Mr. Kentucky, however. He was sporting some sort of Sheriff cosplay, which looked good on him.

He was missing the hat though, which was a shame.

With brown hair that looked slicked back with sweat and clear blue eyes, he seemed like the type of guy who was voted 'Best Looking' in high school, or prom king, if anything.

That's what Americans do, right? Vote for people based on their attributes, physical and not.

The guy from the alley was the first to break the silence.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood. You the new sheriff come riding in to clean up the town?"

"It wasn't my intention." The Sheriff replies, leaning his forearms on the railing.