The other Dixon- The walking dead fanfic

VI

I didn't even want to try and park the boat, I knew it would end horribly. I dropped the anchor next to another boat, giving me a walkway of sorts to get across to the main harbour.

I had emptied my bag into the boat, so I had plenty of room to scavenge for anymore supplies. I wasn't planning on staying long, collect more fuel and look through a few nearby houses. I was pretty set on food and water though, so I didn't exactly need much.

I didn't want to stay here long anyway. I had already had to kill a few cranks, I didn't want to make it anymore. I had already collected enough fuel to last me until my next stop and was searching through the houses.

Going room by room, I was basically looking for anything that might be useful, food, water, weapons. I chuckled to myself as I stood in front of a bathroom cabinet, filled to the brim with medical supplies. Pills, plasters, gauzes, bandages. This is exactly what I needed,
"Who's.. there..?" I heard a voice splutter out. I grabbed my gun from its holster, last time I checked, the cranks couldn't talk.

I stuff in front of the bath, a curtain covering the contents of it. I took a deep breath, grabbing a hold of the curtain pulling it back to reveal a man, sitting in a pool of blood in the bath. I dropped my gun to my side, furrowing my brows at him. He had short hair and blood covering his face and hands.
"Are you okay?" I asked, subconsciously pulling a slightly disgusted face as his stench hit me. He pulled his hand down, his was previously covering his shoulder to reveal a bit mark, blood spilling from it.
"I don't have.. long left" He managed to say, coughing in between words, "You have to.. kill me" He continued. I stopped, looking down at my gun, then back at him.

 I knew he was right, and that's what scared me. I was thinking it even before he said it. I wasn't like that. That's something my father would do, something Merle would say. Not me. I placed my gun in its holster, I didn't want to waste bullets. I grabbed my knife, clutching the handle tightly, taking a deep breath as I held it up.

I heard the man take a shaky breath,
"What's your name?" I asked him, pausing slightly to get myself together, I was actually about to kill someone.
"Harry" He muttered, closing his eyes tightly. I nodded, taking yet another deep breath before plunging the knife into the chest. I stabbed him multiple times, just to make sure he was actually dead.

I finished by stabbing him in the head, he was bit so if I didn't no doubt he would turn in a few hours or so. I wiped my knife on a towel in the room before turning back to the cabinet, emptying the contents into my bag, it's not like harry was going to need it.

---

I sat on the wooden walkway on the harbour, dangling my legs off, dipping my feet into the cool water below, eating a bag of salted pretzels I had found in one of the houses. I didn't understand, somewhere in the back of my mind, I wanted to feel guilty, feel bad that I just took someone's life; but I didn't. Not a single ounce of guilt could be found. Only relief, like I had done him a favour... had I done him a favour?

I shook the thoughts away, climbing back into to boat, pulling the anchor and pulling out of the harbour, continuing my journey.

---

It was 2am but I wasn't asleep. I had slept for an hour or so earlier but I was on the move now, I needed to hurry up and get to Georgia, I was beginning to worry that Daryl would've moved by the time I get there.

I wasn't sure why I cared so much, it's not like he actually cared for me that much. He was a little protective on occasion, but I doubt he was thinking about me now. Hell, he's probably even taking my bow for himself right, survival of the fittest nowadays.

Word count: 703
Total word count: 5,066