RIDE OR DIE | DARYL DIXON

blind

HER HORSE'S HOOVES came to a sliding stop, and she had to hold onto the reins with tight fists to stay on. She held her hand up, and the others took that as their sign to slow down and stop. She watched the walkers ahead of them silently, internally cringing at the rumbling of Daryl's motorcycle. He shut it off a few seconds later, and to their luck, the walkers hadn't notice them.

"That's the second group to go." She told them quietly, patting her horse to settle it down. "Something's got their attention."

They all watched the last few walkers stumble off the road and into the woods, shouldering into trees and each other. Once she couldn't see the last one, she lowered herself off her horse and took it to a thick tree, tying it up.

"We need to check it out." She tugged on the lead to ensure it wasn't going to budge. "See if we can deal with whatever's herding them up before the herd grows."

Rosita was able to tell them that she had managed to get Eugene into a barn, but she couldn't remember exactly where it was. She pointed them in its general direction, but the rest was unknown and up to them to discover- and these walkers were blocking that path.

Dog brushed up against her leg as he sniffed the air. He, too, could sense them not too far from where they stood. A low growl slipped past his furry lips as he stuck his nose close to the ground and led them into the woods, tracking the dead to where they sauntered about an open field.

"Good boy." She patted him again, crouching down next to one of the only trees that stood in the  vastly large plane. Jesus, Aaron and Daryl crouched behind her too, and they all looked ahead of them at the swarm of the dead.

 "Okay..." she breathed. "That's a lot more than two groups."

"It's about 130, 140 of them." Daryl said lowly. 

Jesus tilted his head as he watched the walkers. "You ever see them do this before?"

The walkers stumbled around the same spot in the field, heading in different directions, but always circling back around to that one earthy spot. There was nothing attracting them to that spot; nothing but themselves.

"Wells and I have seen this before in DC... They just traipse around one spot." She quirked an eyebrow. "And just like right now, there wasn't anything that could've caught their attention to bring them there. It's like they're being rounded up... or collected."

Daryl stood up carefully, still looking across the field. "Rosita's trail goes right through them. We should get the horses, circle around, then we'll pick it up on foot."

Aaron looked over his shoulder at him. "What about them?"

"What about 'em?"

"They're just milling around." Jesus told him. "That's not normal."

He held the strap to his crossbow in a tight hand. "No. No, it ain't."

Willow had to pry her eyes off of the walkers to get back on her feet. There was something mesmerizing about watching those walkers move- attached to that one spot in the field, oblivious to anything else around them. It was something new; something interesting yet incredibly terrifying.

"We should get going." A large draft bit at her skin as she stepped out from behind the tree and looked up at the dark and gloomy sky. "It's gonna take us longer if we go around, and there's a storm coming."

They all nodded and took one last look at the walkers, because they too were intrigued by it.

-

They ditched their transportation much sooner than they anticipated. The herd was coming for them- Daryl could hear them as the wind carried its scent and the noise. He had thrown out a little alarm clock, setting it to go off as they herd came through. Until it did, they waited in the tree line, keeping some land and distance between them and the dead.