The Walking Dead {Daryl Dixon}

S2Ch3 "The Farm"

I turn the knob to shut the water off. After drying myself up, I wrap my hair in a towel on top of my head and grab my underwear. I mental note of looking for a razor once I'm dressed; the legs are fine, I can deal with that, but I'm not fond of other parts being in the state they are right now. Also, I take notice of how my belly pouch seems to have shrunk, or more accurately, I must have burned most of the fat already. Being on the road has its perks, some might say, but fat burning might become troublesome if I lose more weight, my ribs are already more prominent than in any other moment of my life.

"Shit", I sigh, "I need some flour-y foods"

I shimmy my way into the tank top and pull my trunks up with a satisfying 'pop' against my skin. With eased practice, I tie my hair up in a bun and walk downstairs with my pile of dirty clothes on one arm and my boots in hand. I walk outside to wash my clothes and hang them somewhere where they'll dry.

After I wash the remnants of the soap, I used to scrub all of my dirty clothes, I go look for Merle. I dust off my feet, put on some of the socks of whoever used to live here along with some borrowed boots that fit a little big, and head out for the barn first.

The view is pretty. Sun's out and the wind brushes softly against the tall grass of this unkept property we land on. It's weird seeing the stereotypical farm that we're taught since we're in diapers. It is not how farms back home are, there would usually be a small house with a shitload of land to grow their produce and maybe a small place for the cows if they owned a dairy. It's kinda comical just how vast the differences are.

I keep away from the tall grass since the last thing I need is having to go look for allergy medicine in the middle of the apocalypse and instead opt for stone trails or dirt tracks. Before entering the barn, I take a look around just in case, the last thing we need are walkers to get inside the barn. A hole, a piece of wood falling out or able to be moved, walkers or people, either way, it's best to keep them out.

Knife in hand I open the barn doors and scan every corner of the place before setting a foot inside. I scan for movement, any suspicious movement like slumped forward or stumbling on themselves. When I don't catch any movement, I walk inside slowly then check the corner by the doors and behind me.

"Merle? Is your lily-white ass here?"

When I don't get an immediate answer, I walk backward not wanting to turn my back on such a big space. Once outside I rush to close the barn door and lock them in case... in case there was something there. Call me paranoid but I prefer the term realistic or pessimistic. They're pretty close anyway.

I blow a raspberry and walk over to a small dock by the side of the pond this place has. Seriously how the fuck is there a pond on a farm??

I lean on my arms and look up at the sky while swinging over my legs over the small dock, the reflection of my feet flickering with the light drift of the surface of the water. The sky is bright blue today, adorned with puffy white clouds. Kinda wish it would rain today, nothing heavy, maybe a light drizzle, like those we would get back home. 'Pelo de gato'  we call it, so light and short that it would hardly wet the pavement.

At the sound of water moving, I redirect my gaze to the pond beneath my feet. It seems that the wind is not the only cause for its movement. My brows scrunch up at the sight of bubbles surfacing. "What the-?"

Are there fish in here? I would kill for a trucha right now, hell even fishing them out would brighten my month, probably my whole year by how things are going. I lick my lips at the thought. I love fish, my mouth is watering thinking about the different dishes I could prepare with fish.