Haunted | Daryl Dixon

25. Loneliness

Branches cut and tore at her face. Her hands. Her legs. Her clothes. Anything it touched.

There was no doubt that there would be an excruciating amount of pain in Evelyn's side as soon as she stopped running, but for now, the adrenaline stayed in control, making it so she couldn't feel anything.

Her breathing was coming out in short gasps and ragged huffs as she narrowly dodged trees as she ran into the woods.

It was like her mind was on autopilot, not thinking, just running.

A silence fell over the woods for the next few moments. The only sounds being Evelyn's breathing and her feet hitting the twigs and dead leaves on the ground.

All of a sudden, she skidded to a halt, chest heaving up and down.

She whipped around frantically, eyes wide, as she searched her surroundings. Her brain had finally caught up with her, and she had no idea what was happening or where she was.

Finally, once she had regained control of her breathing, the events of today came crashing down into her.

The one eyed man. Hershel. The fall of the prison. Trying to get out with Daryl-

Daryl. She was supposed to wait for Daryl.

Panic surged through Evelyn as she turned on her heel and desperately began making her way back the way she came.

Thankfully, even through the adrenaline, her wounded side had been enough to slow her down so even if she felt like she had, she hadn't really gotten too far.

As she drew nearer and nearer to where she knew the prison walls to be, a familiar scent tickled her nose.

Fire. There was a fire somewhere.

Quickly, Evelyn pushed through the last bit of bush and came to a stop on top of a hill overlooking what had once been a prison. A safe place. Somewhere, despite herself, she had begun to call home.

The tank now sat closer to the prison and was on fire, as well as one of the guard towers, and there was not a living person in sight.

It was all the creepers. The dead roamed the outside of the prison as if they owned the place, as if they hadn't been held from it this very morning.

Worse of all, though, there was no Daryl in sight.

Seeing as she was a safe enough distance from the prison, but could still easily keep an eye on it, Evelyn decided to stay there, just in case he had come up with an alternative method of getting to her.

With a grunt of pain, the woman lowered herself onto a nearby fallen over log. The adrenaline had finally wore off, and now where was just exploding pain in her side.

Evelyn bit down harshly on her lip, trying to keep her cries of pain silenced in order to not attract any walkers in her direction.

Through her pain, Evelyn kept watch over the prison. She was helpless to do anything but watch as the walkers knocked down the last bit of standing fence and picked at the belongings of the previous residents- her group- that had been left behind in the haste of the attack.

She waited and waited. The light in her eyes slowly diminishing as more and more time passed without any sign of the man.

Based on the positioning of the sun, there was only about thrity minutes left of light.

So, with a set jaw and a hand pressed firmly over her wound, Evelyn pushed herself to her feet.

She allowed herself to spare one last glance at the prison, searching for something- anything- before turning around and making her way into the woods.