Bridges :: Daryl Dixon

[TWO] GHOST



[["In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves."]]

In all my years of battles, angst and standoffs; The key component of all was eye contact. You maintain eye contact, and even with no words spoken, thousands of words would be said. I could pick out a person's emotion and feelings through just seconds of eye contact. Every stand down I had ever participated in, many eyes spoke of fear, regret and pain. While others showed the opposite; No fear, no regret and no pain, almost like they weren't scared to die.

But this stand off was different. The man in front of me; the redneck.. His eyes showed every emotion possible, yet no emotion at all. His eyes resembled the deep depths of the atlantic ocean. They were a deep blue; The kind of blue ocean many people were scared of; what laid underneath that body of water. Monsters? Undiscovered species? Creatures we thought were extinct, but weren't?

His eyes sent an unfamiliar feeling of fear throughout my body. He was unreadable, and indescribably attractive.

I however, wasn't going to let my fear of this unfamiliar face be known. I was scared of many people before this but they wouldn't have known that.

[["Don't let your fear of people be known, CC." My mother's soothing voice echoed in my ear. "For it will be that moment when they sense your fear, you will be vulnerable in their eyes... Weak. That will be the moment you will lose."]]

I tightened my finger on the trigger of my M16 rifle, my eyes narrowing - the redneck in my vision. I didn't want to pull the trigger and I certainly didn't want to end two other survivors of this apocalyptic mess' lives.

"I'm going to say this one time, and one time only" I spoke, barely audible but loud enough for the pair to hear me. Venom evident in my words. "Stand. Down."

The redneck's eyes broke contact with mine, landing on the cop's. The man in uniform's eyes darted from the guy in front of me, over to Marcus, and finally landed on my mine. Panic was evident in this guy. Panic, yet he was instilled with confidence. He truly believed he would be able to kill us if he tried. His confident, yet anxious emotion quickly disappeared to relief once his eyes landed on the chain hanging from my neck. It was the moment that he had spotted my dog tags, and with that, he lowered his gun, and the redneck quickly copied his actions.

Relief washed over me. I didn't want to kill another person; I could go the rest of my life without doing so. So, like a good person; I too lowered my gun, Marcus quickly following suit.

"I apologise." The cop was the first to break the silence. "Can't be too careful."

I nodded my head in agreement, this time dropping my rifle to the ground. I was glad I didn't have to hold it anymore.
"Us too." Marcus then spoke, it was clear to me that he was feeling the most content with the outcome. He hated having to kill; always questioned how I managed to keep my sanity in years of doing so. That's what I wanted to be seen, however.

Truth is, my sanity died with humanity and humanity died months ago.

"I'm Rick." The cop's southern accent spoke once again, obviously big on pleasantries. "Rick Grimes, and that there is Daryl."

I looked at the redneck, glad to finally put a name to the face of the man I almost killed. He made a sound, barely audible but no words were spoken. It was almost like a grunt in annoyance. Already annoyed with the man's presence, I was the next to speak.

"Crimson." I sighed, leaning my body on the railing. I looked up at the sky, avoiding any eye contact. It was getting dark; light barely visible. "Crimson Carter. That there is Marcus King. I apologise too. We've had to kill too many people to accept strangers straight away."