Maggie was yelling, Glenn appeared out of nowhere, and Daryl, Rick, and I practically manifested weapons into our hands with the sheer force of will.
Although, not literally, of course - as I feel the need to stipulate, given the likelihood that materialising weaponry out of thin air could very well be an actual thing, thanks to the realm of magical bullshitery that constantly surrounds me.
Taking the pointy ends of what I liked to call our "jabby-sticks", we began to stab through the gaps in the fence, taking out as many of the overzealous undead as we could. They had begun to gather in one particular spot, so thick in numbers that the metal and wooden posts holding the fence up had begun to bend and concave.
The six of us - as Tyreese had also appeared like a damn phantom in the wind - panting from the effort, continued our panicked onslaught, stabbing walker head after walker head as fast as we could. At one point, I stabbed so hard, I managed to impale three walkers in a morbid, undead shish-kabob.
The give of that blow drew me closer to the fence, close enough that my cheek almost touched the bloodied metal wire - and close enough to get a nose-full of that damn smell. It was beneath the usual stench of rotting flesh, that hint of sickness, of disease not unlike the one I'd scented on the Violet not so long ago.
The walker an inch from my face growled deep in its torn throat, sounding almost as if it were trying to speak garbled words through the half-eaten rat carcass dangling from its once-pristine teeth. I felt my body spasm in disgust, pulling me backwards and away from the thing with a rather loud “fucking gross”. Almost in a disturbed trance, I watched the rat’s chewed torso slip from the walker’s teeth, falling to the trampled grass by its feet, adding to what looked like a mismatched pile of viscera and fur at the edge of the fence line. A long rats tail extended out from the twisted red, pink, and brown gore.
“Uh, guys?” I yelled, glancing back up from the pile in front of me to the crowd of walkers pushing up against the fence. With a jolt, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing, and lifted my jabby-stick to continue… well, jabbing.
“What?” Daryl asked from my other side as he stepped closer to the fence, using his bowie knife to dispatch a handful of walkers. The fence bent inwards so far that he had to duck in order to get close enough to get the blade through it and into their skulls.
“The rats!” I responded, gesturing down towards the floor by my feet with a wave of my less-dominant hand. The sweat that had begun to gather whilst I’d been digging graves had turned into actual droplets, running down the curve of my spine.
Tyreese noticed first, letting out a grunt of disbelief. “Is someone feeding these things?”
I didn’t get a chance to make a remark in response, as Rick let out a loud, “Heads up!” and pointed further down the fence, to where the walkers had congregated in thicker numbers.
“This part of the fence, now!” he ordered. “You three, stay there! Keep clearing!”
It was almost as if my body reacted before I had even consciously decided to obey him. Which, in hindsight, might have been a little troubling, but I didn’t give it much thought at the time.
The posts were bending inwards further and further as the walkers tried to mindlessly move forwards, their feet beginning to trample over the lower section of the wire. Rick got there first, gripping onto one of the metal posts and pushing upwards with all his might, trying to fight against the pressure of a dozen bodies with his own. Daryl joined him, grabbing the wooden post that had been propped up in the centre of this section of fence, adjusting his feet to push upwards from his legs.
YOU ARE READING
The Monsters Among Us ➳ Daryl Dixon
Fanfiction𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯/𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 Not human. She was not human. They all knew it. Could almost feel it, but couldn't make sense of it. That was why they were afraid. Not because of what she used to be Before. But...
