"And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even really be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about." —Haruki Murakami
____________________________
REMY
Perhaps the greatest blow to morale had been learning that Eugene had lied. There was no cure. At least, if there was one, Eugene didn't have the answer.
Remy had known deep down, but it was still very hard to take. Between Abraham, and Daryl, she didn't know who was worse off.
Abraham had had a mission. A purpose. It had been ripped out from under him. And Daryl? Remy wasn't sure exactly what he had lost, and he wouldn't say, but she knew it was important. Something he may not ever get back.
—-
The group made the decision to continue to Washington. They felt Eugene was right to have chosen it for his destination from a survival standpoint. Surely the nation's capital would have some sort of framework in place for catastrophe.
They were about 60 miles out when the van ran out of gas. The sun bore down on them. They'd be hiking until they found a vehicle with gasoline. Dax never seemed to mind walking. Guess four legs are better than 2, Remy thought. Dax wasn't carrying all their gear, though.
Soon, there was a sizable pack of walkers trailing them. The others didn't take much notice, but Remy was nervous.
Daryl was still a mess. It had been weeks and he'd barely said a word to anyone. Not even to Rick or Carol. He kept darting in and out of the woods, looking for water. They were running low, and if they slowed down? There's no way they'd be able to take the herd that was after them.
—-
DARYL
They were going to die. And just then, Daryl couldn't find any reason to fight it.
After everything they had been through, from the very beginning on the road out of Atlanta, to the CDC, the farm, the prison, Terminus...all that, just to die of thirst on the road to nothing.
He still looked for water. He hunted. There was nothing. But, what else could he do? Rick had tried talking to him about Atlanta, but Daryl wouldn't. What was the point?
Carol followed him out this time.
"Nothin here," he told her after a while.
"Let's go back," she said.
Daryl didn't want to. Didn't wanna watch while they all slowly died of thirst and starvation. "You go."
"I think she saved my life..." Carol mused. "She saved yours too." Carol pressed a knife into his hand. It was Beth's. "'We're not dead.' That's what you said. You're not dead. I can't let myself...but you? You have to let yourself feel it." She kissed him, adding "You will."
Daryl didn't dare hope. He couldn't feel anything. If he fell in that hole, he might never be able to claw his way back out.
YOU ARE READING
Wings
Fiksi PenggemarI DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO TWD. THE ONLY CHARACTER I Own is my OC, her family, pet, what have you. I DON'T OWN THE RIGHTS TO ANY OF THE MUSIC LINKED. A Walking Dead fanfic focusing mostly on my OC and the Dixon's, especially before the death of Merl...
