The Dead Walk the Earth

Chapter 4: Hunting with Daryl

Charlie flipped to the part of her journal and drew another line with a pen that was running low on ink. She knew she forgot to mark a few days, busy doing nothing at all, but we were somewhere around day 45 since we left our town and Rick behind. She sighed and looked at the marks on the paper absentmindedly.

"C'mon," Daryl said shortly at her.

"Where are we going?" she asked, grabbing the attention of Shane, Lori, and Carl with my voice.

"You said you wanted to come huntin', so let's go," he replied standing before her.

"Thought you said you hunted alone," she said with a smirk, then stood and grabbed one of her guns and two of her knives.

"Ay, you don't wanna come, fine by me," he said. She smiled and stood in front of him, waiting for him to lead the way.

"You be careful, sweetie." Lori walked over to her and kissed her forehead. Shane gave her a nod and Carl ran over and hugged her hips. She ruffled his hair and then turned to walk off with Daryl.

"Later Merle," Daryl called, walking into the woods without a glance back or waiting for a response. They walked in silence as they entered the woods, both of them not knowing how the other hunted.

"So uh..." she began and cleared her throat, "Did you hunt a lot before the world went to shit?"

"Yea. Me and Merle. Our pa taught us. 'Bout the only useful thing he did for us." Daryl said. "What 'bout you?"

"My uncle Rick taught me how to shoot when I was real young. Taught my brother too. Whenever my brother was home, we'd go camping, hunted for our food." Charlie told him, her fingers finding Jackson's dog tags under her grey shirt.

"How often was your brother home?" he asked, keeping the conversation going, all while looking at the ground for tracks.

"Eh, maybe once, twice a year." she figured, "Sometimes not at all."

"What's he do?"

"Army. He's in the army. Well, was." she told him, "But he's dead so..."

"Sorry," Daryl said and turned to look at her finally. She shrugged and dropped her hand away from Jackson's tags, slipping her thumb into the pocket of her light blue skinny jeans. Daryl gave her a once-over, then took the brown hunting bag off him and threw it to her. "You're in charge of carrying back what we kill," he told her. She nodded, putting the strap of the shoulder bag across her chest and adjusted her green military jacket.

They walked some more, Daryl following the tracks of a deer finally. "What made you decide to bring me along?" Charlie asked curiously.

He shrugged in front of her, "Dunno, figured you could be of more use than just sittin' at the camp lookin' lost."

"I do not look lost." she protested.

"Psh, you spent the day either starin' at that necklace or starin' at the lil' booka your's," he replied.

"Yeah, well not much else to do 'round there anyway."

"'Sactly. Figured maybe you'd wanna do somethin' more. 'Sides, you said you wanted ta help out." Daryl said, turning slightly to look at her.

She gave him a weak half smile, "Well, thanks then." he grunted, continuing to walk. He slightly picked up the pace, making her pick up her's. As she gained to a light jog, her foot touched down on something the wrong way and sent an instant wave of pain into her leg. "Agh! Dammit," she muttered under her breath but ignored it to catch up to Daryl. Each step on her right foot sent a new wave of pain into her leg, making her wince slightly behind her oblivious hunting partner.