Out of the Woods (The Walking Dead) PART 2

Chapter 1

Out of the Woods (The Walking Dead)

PART 2:

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Merle made his way through the prison to find his brother, Daryl. It wasn't until he looked outside when he would see where Daryl went. He saw Suzy there with him out in the field throwing her knives at the biters wandering around. He strutted towards them, watching as Suzy helped Daryl with his form.

"No, no. You see-" Suzy laughed at how Daryl held his own knife, "This isn't an actual throwing knife, so you don't want to hold it by the handle. The weight won't distribute right, then you're not gonna hit the target. You'd wanna hold that kind of knife by the tip of the blade-"

"What in god's name are you doin'?" Merle asked. Suzy turned her head and flashed him that precious pearly white smile.

"I promised Daryl I'd show him knife throwing," Suzy replied.

"Lemme guess, he sucks ass at it," Merle smirked.

"Jackass," Daryl mumbled, making Merle chuckle.

"He's actually not that bad," Suzy commented. Once she made sure Daryl was holding the knife correctly, she told him to go for it and he tossed it at the nearest walker. Merle gave a whistle when he saw it land right in the thing's forehead.

"Not bad, Darylina," Said Merle.

"I'll tell ya what," Daryl said, "Shit's not as easy as it looks."

"It's all in the wrist and how close or far you are from the target," Suzy replied, "But more than anything else, it's just trial and error."

Merle smirked, "I know all 'bout trial and error."

Merle snaked his good arm around her waist to pull her close. Suzy felt his hand wander downward, making Daryl cringe.

"Eyes on the task, little brother," Merle pointed towards a walker approaching with his blade hand while his regular hand gripped Suzy's butt tighter.

"Merle-" Suzy giggled, "Can you not?"

"Can I not what?"

"You know-" Suzy blushed while Daryl pretended not to see anything and kill the walker with another knife, "I'm trying to be a productive friend here."

Merle pulled her closer and held her tight to where he brought her feet off the ground. His smile was infectious, making her laugh under the hot Georgia sun. Smiles...Brightness...Laughter...

Laughter...Her own laughter echoed in her memory, haunting her; reminding her of a better time...It was broken by the sound of a dull growl from a walker lying there in the grass. Suzy threw her knife at its head, silencing it for good. She stood there with her black poncho sweater covering her, her grown out black hair tied up in a very messy bun, and her small black bag over her shoulder. She motioned over to the dead walker and yanked out her knife from its skull. She stood there for a moment, sniffling her nose from having cried. Her eyes were red, bloodshot, and tired with dark circles underneath. Her skin was covered in various dirt, cuts, bruises, and self-inflicted scratches. The last time she had bathed had to be at least two weeks ago at Sawhatchee Creek. She looked behind her at woods, debating whether or not she wanted to go back in. She couldn't find anything in there for food the past few days. The hunger pangs were starting to get the best of her. She supposed it was time to find houses to loot. She turned around and made her way straight ahead to one of the many abandoned neighborhoods in the area. Maybe she should also take a car if she could find the keys. Hot wiring wasn't an effort she wanted to make.

She picked a house at random, going with a two story basic white house with black shutters. She banged on the front door and waited. She didn't hear anything coming through so she checked to see if the door was unlocked. It was unfortunately locked, making her use her foot to kick the door in. The door swung open with a loud creek. She looked around behind her before going in. She checked every single room, closet, under the beds, anywhere she could think of to make sure no one dead or living was hiding inside. As soon as the coast was clear, she quickly went to check the kitchen. Just being in an actual kitchen again made her stomach feel so hungry she felt like she was going to vomit. Vomit up what exactly? It wasn't like there was anything in there. Cabinet one, nothing. Cabinet two, nothing. Cabinet three, nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. Devastated, she kicked the kitchen island, causing a drawer to be forced open. Peeking through the crack of the slightly open drawer, she could make out the shape of cans. Chicken? Tuna? She didn't care. She quickly bent down and opened the drawer so she could stuff them all in her bag. Oh no, she thought upon picking up the first can. With further inspection, she saw what kind of cans they really were.