Unexpected Love | Daryl Dixon Fanfic

Chapter 5 - The Quarry

The drive to the quarry was made in relative silence. Rick pointed out a sharp turn which I took quickly, leading us into the forest to the right of the highway. In the rear-view mirror, I could see the cogs turning in Glenns head, he finally spoke up, firing multiple questions in my direction.

"How old are you? I-I mean, you look about my age. Then how could you afford a car like this? And why is it right-hand drive? Why are you here, in the US I mean if you're English? Why do you have a gun like that? Are you military or something?" He stopped when he saw my glare in the mirror. I looked at the others in the back to see they were plastered in the same expression, waiting for my reply.

I sighed, looking at my brother who just gave me a small shrug. Thanks for the input bro. I trained my eyes on the road whilst I prepared to answer.

"Okay... One, you never ask a woman her age, but because I'm in a good mood I'll tell you. I'm 25. Two, five and six, I had a good job, I wasn't quite in the military but that's close enough, so we'll leave it at that. Three I think is self-explanatory, and four, I was here in the US already, visiting my brother and here for work. That good enough for you?"

They all just gawked back at me, reeling through the emotions of shock, confusion, surprise, interest and I swear I saw a bit of love flicker every now and then. In all honestly, it made me incredibly uncomfortable. I hated being the center of attention, so having all eyes trained on me made me shrink in my seat slightly.

Everybody was pulled out of their thoughts when they heard gunfire and screaming. I stomped on the gas, making the car fly up the gravel track as quickly as possible.

We reached the top and everybody bounded out. Rick threw me my rifle and I swung the door open, not bothering to switch the engine off. As I stalked forward, I switched the rifle to single fire and started popping off accurate rounds, finding the heads of all my targets.

Rick, Glenn and T-Dog all went off in different directions, which left Daryl and I trailing into the thick of it. From the corner of my eye, I could see he was struggling to reload his crossbow, so I immediately unholstered one of my pistols and shoved it in his direction. He gave me a quick nod before pushing forward.

I was in my element, firing round after round eventually taking one knee for stabilization. It wasn't long before I heard the tell-tale sound that my gun was empty. With the spare magazines in the trunk of the car, I slung the rifle to the ground.

At this point there weren't many left, I'd say half a dozen stragglers coming my way. Everybody else had retreated to the large RV at the top of the hill, so it was just me left fighting.

Instead of reaching for my second pistol, I stood and unsheathed my throwing knives, holding one in each hand, spinning them around my fingers in an old habit. Oh, how I've missed this!

Exerting as much force as possible, I brought up a knife on either side of my head and threw them forward. One hit directly in the temple, and the other had lodged itself in the dead man's eye. Not my best accuracy, but it did the job.

I unsheathed the remaining two knives and ran forward. To my left, I jammed the knife straight into the top of one's skull. It pulled out way too easily which made my stomach churn. Skulls are supposed to be thick! I spun to the right, raising and holding out my arm out, stabbing straight into the temple of the lurker behind me.

And now there were two. Spinning my knives I brought them back up, throwing them with better aim this time, landing the blades dead between the eyes.

The forest was now silent of the dead. The only thing that could be heard now were the faint cries of the people back in camp who had lost their own. I retrieved my knives, wiping the remaining blood on the clothes of the bodies. Better theirs then mine, right?