In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 20: One Leg

We laid out our findings in the prison on a metal table that was outside the main cell block.

"Not bad." Daryl said examining the many guns laid out.

"Flashbangs, CS Triple-Chasers." Rick held up a canister looking at it closely, "Not sure how they'd work on walkers, but we'll take 'em."

I looked at all the items on the table, but my attention was drawn to Daryl holding up a helmet with disgusting brown slime-like substance dripping from inside it.

"I ain't wearing this shit." Daryl muttered, looking disgusted.

"We could boil 'em." T-dog suggested as he held up a glove covered in the same brown slime-like substance.

I twisted my face in disgust.

"Ain't enough firewood in the whole forest. No." Daryl shot back. "Besides, we made it this far without 'em, right?" Daryl picked up a pipe taking a practice swing.

"Hershel."

I looked over my shoulder and saw Carol standing in the doorway that goes into the cell block. She gestured her head for him to follow her.

"Everything alright?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. Nothing to worry about." Carol reassured.

Rick was anything but. He had a stone cold look on his face as he watched Hershel leave with Carol. I moved closer to his side,

"I'm sure everything is okay." I spoke softly.

But his face didn't waver.

He reached for the vests that we had scavenged off of walkers around the prison, and handed them out to the people who were going out to find the infirmary and cafeteria.

Daryl was helping me with my vest, fastening the many velcros the vest had to offer.

"At least buy me dinner first." I said cheekily, as he fastened a velcro directly over my chest.

He paused for a moment, looking directly in my eyes before scoffing, shaking his head in amusement, "You're somethin' else."

I smiled, readjusting the vest that now fit firmly over my body. To my left I see Carl messing with a helmet, placing it over his head, covering his eyes as it was much too big for him.

"You won't need that." Rick said as he walked over to him, taking it out of his hands. "Need you to stay put."

"You're kidding." Carl said clearly upset.

"We don't know what's in there." Rick stood firmly in front of Carl, "Somethin' goes wrong, you could be the last man standin'. I need you to handle things here."

"Sure." Carl was eager to agree. He always wanted to at least feel like he was helping in some way.

"Great." Rick handed the keys over to Carl, "Lets go." He said to the group that was going.

I grabbed my machete, double checked to make sure I had my knife on my hip, then grabbed my pistol, placing it in the waistband of my jeans. I let out a deep breath and followed Glenn out of the door, with Carl locking it behind us.

                                   ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Daryl look lead, snaking his arm through the bars of a door, unlocking it, allowing the rest of us to push in. We slowly and quietly pushed down the hallway, flashlights illuminating the room. Further down the hallway, I saw a few dead bodies of inmates laying on the ground, and scurrying around them were rats. My face twisted in disgust, giving me a flash back to coming in close contact with rats back in Atlanta.