Till Death Do Us Part: A Daryl Dixon Story (The Walking Dead)

17

'C'mon, Erin,' Andrea tugged at my arm, sounding awfully cheerful after partaking in a walker massacre. 'Let's bury some bodies.'

We were getting along a lot better since she shot Daryl. I really didn't feel like dragging rotten corpses onto a truck and then burning them, but it wasn't like washing dishes and hanging laundry would have helped in the situation. I ended up helping Andrea dig a grave for Annette's body. Carol didn't attend the funeral service, and I felt a twinge of guilt for my reaction towards her and Daryl. But those strong feelings of jealousy came back when I saw him enter the RV where she was sitting in, and not come out for a while. I couldn't help peeping at Daryl during the service, and his face was a dark cloud of gloom.

Dragging the walkers onto the back of the truck with Andrea and T-Dog was disgusting. Their flesh was squishy and they stank. Never did I think my majoring in accounting would lead me to disposing of corpses that could get up and walk. I sighed bitterly as we dumped the last body on the back of the truck. I got in the front with T-Dog and we took off to the dumpsite, Andrea sitting at the back. She yelled for us to stop shortly after.

'What is it?' I asked T.

'An arm fell off.' He muttered, his face distorted with disgust.

'Gross,' I muttered.

I heard the thump of the body part being thrown on top of the pile, and Andrea yelled for us to go again. This whole apocalypse thing wasn't working out for me. One by one, in an achingly slow process, we piled the walkers on top of one another in a very impressive heap. We stood back and admired our hard work for a brief moment. The hot Atlanta sun beat down on us. My brow dripped with sweat. A few more trips and we'd be done.

'Why didn't you come with when Shane taught us how to shoot?' Andrea asked as we walked back to the farmhouse. We decided to let Shane and T-Dog handle the rest of the walkers.

'Oh, I already know how. A bit rusty, but I know.' I replied.

She looked impressed. 'Really? I wouldn't figure.'

'Daryl taught me.' I muttered.

'You and Dixon, hey?' She said, her tone tainted with a twist of humour. I didn't appreciate that. There had been so many things working against Daryl and I as a couple -people's opinions of us, him being from the country, my coming from the city, our age difference. Andrea and I were round about the same age, and in my opinion there was nothing wrong with that. But of course, it didn't really matter anymore.

'Not anymore,' I finally said.

When we arrived back at the farm house, Rick and Glenn passed us in a car. I stared questionably at them as they drove past. Maggie stood on the porch. Andrea and I eagerly approached her.

'What's up?' Andrea asked.

'My dad's missin'. Beth collapsed, and she needs my dad.' Maggie answered.

'I'll go see if I can help.' Andrea said and went inside.

'Hey, Erin?' Maggie turned to me.

I waited for her to continue. 'You and Daryl...' She turned to face the farm, and her eyes fixed on his campsite.

'Yeah?'

'You and him have a history together, right?' She asked, her voice soft and distant.

'No,' I shook my head. 'We had a life together.'

Memories of the paradise that had been our life flashed across my mind. Daryl and I had once tried our luck with baking and ended up caking the floor with flour and egg in a food fight. I had made a snarky little comment about his baking techniques and ended up with a face full of flour, which of course meant war. Standing on the porch, staring at Dixon's camp made me wish I had eggs and flour to throw at him. He sure as hell deserved it. --