The Monsters Among Us ➳ Daryl Dixon

40. His Pain Made Flesh

The smouldering remains of the place he had once called home chocked his lungs as he retreated. He could barely feel his legs as they carried him through the long grass. It was if he were running purely for the sake of doing so, with no destination, no true purpose behind him.

There was nothing behind him, really. Not anymore.

Beside him, a streak of blonde.

He felt his already thundering heart leap up into his throat as he turned his head to glimpse the form connected to the head of hair.

As soon as it had risen, his heart sunk once again, and he felt it like a blow as that confusing sense of motivation to keep going suddenly ceased to be. His legs gave out from beneath him and he allowed himself to fall onto his back, staring up into the blue sky above as he gasped and gaped, trying to catch his breath.

Beside him, Beth Greene collapsed into the grass, too. He could only just hear her exhausted breaths over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

It was a blur of memory.

His name. She had screamed his name.

The crack of a gunshot.

She fell in front of him.

His world had somehow simultaneously drained of colour and gone completely red.

The next thing he remembered was his knuckles cracked and bleeding, the ruined face of a man beneath him and the soft sound of a voice pleading for him to stop as small hands tried to drag him away.

“Please, Daryl. Daryl, you have to stop! Daryl! We have to go!”

He didn’t even remember stopping. All he knew was that he hadn’t wanted to.

Beth’s small hands had dragged him away from the stranger, pulled him toward the gap in the fence created by the tank’s last few shells.

They had passed by Her, where she lay on the hard ground, face turned away. A pool of crimson spread slowly through the divots in the asphalt, a halo of blood around her head.

Daryl felt a choked sob bubble in his throat and he lifted a bloodied and broken hand up, slapping it over his mouth. As he stared up at the clear sky above, he felt tears begin to slide free from the corners of his eyes.

“Come on,” a soft voice from beside him spoke. “We gotta keep moving.”

She was right. As much as he wished it, he couldn’t lay there forever. He had a responsibility to her now and that was what he should focus on.

Slowly, Daryl pushed himself up onto his feet, locking away any semblance of emotion that tried to pull him back down. Without a word, he reached down to help her up and began to run, further away from the broken ghost of the place he had once called home.

#

All throughout the night, walkers crowded the vehicle, their hungry hands clawing at the metal roof of the trunk. Thunder rumbled overhead, barely heard over the banging and high pitched clawing of the hungry dead folk outside their safe haven.

Not one moment was given to rest. Daryl’s eye remained staring down the site of his bow as Beth curled into the farthest corner she could, clutching her knife so tightly the pale skin of her knuckles appeared almost white as paper.