Lost ; Daryl Dixon

Chapter 10

It had been weeks since you'd last seen another living person. You had no idea where you were anymore, whether you were headed towards somewhere new or simply walking in circles. The balls of your feet ached from the miles you'd covered, and your body was weak with exhaustion and malnourishment, your mind playing tricks on you as scenes from the past scrolled through your head. Sometimes, these hallucinations provided a welcome break from reality, but when you came back to earth the realisation of your current situation made everything ten times worse. Better to keep moving, pushing onwards.

You'd left the road behind some time ago, preferring to take your chances in the forest where you could at least forage for berries and edible plants. Daryl had taught you well, and you were grateful for the knowledge, as you knew what was safe to eat and what you should steer clear of. You only wished you were better armed, or that you could find a place to take shelter and pause for a while, so that you might stand a chance of catching some wildlife, something you could strip down and gnaw on, but it hadn't happened yet. You hadn't realised how much you'd relied on Daryl's skills until you were forced to survive without them. You knew they'd been a pleasant perk, the novelty of fresh meat, but actually, the energy that you'd drawn from his kills had been invaluable. Just something else to add to the list of a million things that you missed about him.

The light was fading as you picked your way through the trees, eyes scanning your surroundings for somewhere to settle for the night. You slowed your pace, moving more tentatively, as you found yourself approaching a clearing, the undergrowth thinning out underfoot, the last of the daylight glowing through the leaves. As you reached the treeline, you had to stifle your gasp as your gaze fell on some sort of large timber barn, with a wide gravel track leading up to it. The front was open, and you could see a crowd of walkers milling around the bottom floor, but there was another level above them that was packed with crates, though the ladder leading up to it was a no-go, both because of the corpses that stood in the way, and its dilapidated state.

The idea that the crates might contain some sort of food or supplies spurred you on, as you skirted around the edge of the trees, keeping to the shadows, using the oncoming darkness to your advantage as you slipped around to the rear of the building. No ladder there at all, but the overhanging branch of one of the trees that bordered the clearing would get you pretty close to the empty window. You had to try. You were desperate, and this was the best chance you'd had in over a month to actually find something of use. Tucking your pole into your backpack, you approached the tree, letting out a quiet grunt of frustration at how high the lowest limb was. You had to dig the toe of your boot into the bark, praying that it would give you enough purchase as you pushed off hard from the ground, launching yourself upwards, and wrapping your fingers around the rough wood, heaving your body up until you could lean on the branch with your arms, and hook your ankle up and over.

It was easier after that, though the branch that you needed to shimmy along to get you close to the window of the upper floor bent worryingly under your weight, less sturdy than it had looked from below. You found yourself gritting your teeth as you edged your way along it, feeling certain that at any point you were likely to fall, not only breaking a bone or two, but drawing the attention of the gathered undead. When it came time to jump, you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut, wishing more than anything that Daryl was there to tell you what to do, or to go first so that his strong arms would be reaching out to catch you. But you forced yourself to remain calm, to focus, your eyes locked on your target.

A deep breath...

...Then another.

With a strength driven by pure determination and hunger, you threw yourself across the gap towards the building, hitting against the wood with a loud thud as your fingertips curled over the window ledge. Your arms were trembling from the strain of supporting your weight, but you fought with all you had to drag yourself up and through the frame, crashing to the floor on the other side. So much for not drawing attention to yourself. You lay there for a moment, winded, but eventually curiosity got the better of you, and you rolled to your knees, crawling towards the nearest crate. You'd expected it to maybe be nailed down, but it wasn't, and the lid lifted away easily in your hands.