Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Seventy-Three: Vocal Cords

I feel like this needs a cw: very gruesome. Bea kind of loses it hehe

•seventy-three•

Beatrix

Rick's words gave me goosebumps, as I'm sure they did to everyone else, too. However, after he said that, the train car fell quiet. I assume we are all thinking of our own plan on how the hell to get us out of here, even though Rick's will probably be the best and most likely to actually work.

"I'm glad you're alive, too, Merle," I say, wrapping my arms around my other brother. Unsurprisingly, he seems pretty shocked at the hug. It isn't hard to tell that he isn't used to being hugged by anyone.

"Thanks, little sis. You too," he awkwardly replies, patting me on the back.

"Has anybody seen Beth?" Maggie asks, almost hesitant to ask because of fear of the response.

"Yeah, I was with her," Daryl speaks up from the other side of the train car, and I walk back over to him in search of some form of comfort.

"Was?" Baxly's voice falls, and I feel very bad for him. He and Beth had gotten so close before the fall of the prison.

"Yeah, we got separated," Daryl's face falls as he thinks about her. "Herd of walkers came through and I lost her. I looked for days, but I couldn't find her."

"But she's alive?" Maggie asks, sounding hopeful.

"She's alive, walkers didn't get her," Daryl nods, reassuring Maggie. "We'll find her."

Silence falls over us once again. It was as if we were all thinking about those we had lost. Eventually, everyone begins asking about who we haven't seen yet, trying to piece together who was confirmed dead and who was still missing. So far, there was nobody confirmed dead. Only missing, and those people included Judith, Tyreese, Enid and her family, and Beth.

For the rest of the night, we go to work, making weapons out of anything we can get our hands on, from the zippers on our jackets to the laces of our shoes. Daryl and Rick even managed to rip off a piece of wood from the train car's interior. Night had gone, and the morning sun started to rise. In the hours of darkness, we all managed to find a weapon to arm ourselves with. I had also been introduced to the other people in the train car.

Abraham was the tall ginger with the weird mustache; he was ex military and you could tell. His girlfriend, Rosita, was the tall and skinny brunette that was dressed appropriately for maybe a strip club. I can't judge her, though, because if I looked like her, I would definitely dress the same way. Tara is the other girl, who seemed to be younger based on her twin pigtails. Lastly, Eugene was the one with the greasy mullet. Once again, I can't judge because my hair is probably greasy, too, but he just strikes me as odd. They claim they have to get him to Washington, D.C. because he is a scientist and knows the cure.

"I hate to break it to you, Eugene, but you don't need to go to D.C. to find the cure," I say once I hear their ridiculous claim.

"And why exactly not?" He questions, crossing his arms as he looks at me.

"I'm right here," I sigh and raise my shirt up, revealing the healing bite mark on my abdomen. "Please, hold your applause until the end of the show. I'll take questions at the end."

"Holy mother of shit," Eugene gasps, stepping closer to trail his fingers over my bite, completely disregarding my joke. "Is this for real?"

"Watch where you put your fingers or I'll break them off," Daryl glares at him and he instantly pulls away from me. He turns to look out of one of the cracks in the wall before speaking again. "All right, we got four of them pricks coming our way."