The End Of My World

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Fine" Axel said. Taking charge.

"WOW WOW WOW WOW, who said you were in charge!" Tomas exploded.

"Since the fact that we got nothin and they are our best bet. Take a sec and think about it"

"Fine but only this once will I say ya right" Tomas Agrees. It was a fragile alliance, but one born out of necessity. God they were dumb. Could have been done and out hunting if it weren't for their stupidity.

A deal was struck, they would sleep in their own cell block, while we set up in a separate section of the prison.

We walked, Daryl and I in the back with Glen and T-Dog taking up the sides and Rick finally leading the front. Walking up corridors and through passages to the cell block the men would stay in. Upon arriving I looked at the vass darkness that engulfed it.

"No matter what you stay in this formation" Rick spoke sternly.

"Got it" Big-Tiny muttered. With careful steps we ventured further and further into the cell block. The small groans and shuffles of walkers surrounded us. I slowly stepped forward again. I reached for the trigger of my gun slowly and softly pulling it back. Readying my gun. I held it out in front of me aiming at the emptiness around us. A moan from the front of the group booms over the quiet. I turned to face the front but a war cry from the men sounded over the moans and they took off towards the walker. I mentally slapped my forehead. I watch the men beat the thing to death.

"It won't die," Axel cried.

"The head, hit its head" I muttered.

"YES" Big-Tiny screamed, the walker beat to a pulp and blood oozing from the body as it finally lay dead.

"Are you dumb, I told you to stay in the form" Rick whisper yelled. The scream of success echo across the cell block.

Well shit..

The stern words from Rick didn't seem to stick because the next moment a dozen growls of walkers rang through the space. Metal bangs from the cell bars and shuffling footsteps creating a bigger target on our back as we traveled forward. The men running over and start to bash the approaching walkers.

I sigh and lift up my gun. Daryl's hand covers mine and pushes it slowly down. Shaking his head he hands me a knife strapped to his side. I try to give it back but he is persistent as he turns around slamming his own knife in an approaching walker.

Well now I have more than enough knifes.

I whirl around slamming my knife into the skulls of the undead. Their approaching bodies not lasting but mere seconds before getting obliterated. I slam my knife into the, I don't know how many'th head. Taking a small glance towards Rick whose hands are tied between a handful of walkers. I take a moment and peer back to my front, a walker grabbing onto my ankle. I yelp and smash Daryl's knife down and back into their head before shaking its hand off me. I stumble and bump right into another undead. I slash the knife before sticking it into its head, the knife getting stuck inside. I drop the other knife and grasp the handle, pulling with all my might. I stumble as I am shoved to the side. A walker reaching its dirty, dusty, rotten, musty, toxic, filthy, old and crusty fingers towards me.

I land on my ass and scoot backwards. I hit a wall. The walker falling to its knees, I pull away. The walker draws closer as its snapping mouth gapes open, its breath is consumed by the stench of decay and death. I push up, my hands sliding and tearing into the walkers flesh. Sloppy and hungry the walker pushes up against my hands. I let out a low growl as my hands find themselves gripping onto its skin for dear life.

Its hands reaching for my face.

A hand comes too close, just barely missing my face, I yelp. My attention solely on the walkers trying to eat me alive I forget to listen for the commotion around me. The fighting stopped and the sounds of me and my struggle the last things left creating sound. I bring my legs up as far as I can. I pull them close and kick with the strength pent up in them. The walker stumbles back just enough for me to retrieve a dagger from my belt. I launch forward and ram the blade deep into the brain of the ragged monster. I lean back, sitting on my haunches. My breath, heavy and labored.

My eyes finally take a moment to watch the faces looking at me. Rick, face dripping with sweat, looks at me with fear. I feel a small breeze brush my face. Whipping my head around to see Daryl's hand, dirty and covered in blood. I look at his outstretched hand. I smirk before placing the dagger he gave me into his hand. I push up off the ground and nod to him.  He only nods back. I turn my attention to the prisoners. I watch their faces full of sadness and anger, fill with surprise. I cock an eyebrow.  What a bunch of pussy's. I thought.

The room turned scilent. Rick scilently scanning the room. Listening, feeling for anything else. I too joined but the quiet space was interrupted by the small Drip sound coming from somewhere close. I looked at who I could see, my vision dimming with the fading light that filtered in from outside. The sound came again.

Drip

Faster this time…

Drip

Drop

And again…

Drip

Drop

*Pause*

Drip-Drop-Drip

I followed the blood that pooled around Big-Tiny's feet. I watched the trail go up his arm. Soaking his shirt. His shoulder exposed, a chunk missing.

He was bit. Blood gushed from the wound. I backed away, slowly.

He was infected.

My eyes widened. I shook my head and swiftly I aimed for his head. The men shouted at me.

"He's fine!!"

"He just needs bandages"

"NO! You don't understand, he is infected now, there is no saving him now, say your goodbyes." I turned and left. I scurried away, not before hearing the cries of Big-Tiny, his pained cries imprinted on my brain.

I walked, leaving the cell block behind me. The echo of my boots ring around the long dark halls. The corridors filled with empty midnight, my hand runs along the walls. I keep my hands close and my mind alert as I travel. I reach the doors to our own block. The light from candles lit up the room for only a small portion of the room to be lightened up.

I walk, my arms brushing up against my sides. I sit at the benches that sit right in front of the block. I drop my gun on the table and place my head in my hands. What the fuck was I do'in? I joined some random ass group looking for what, entertainment? Safety? I had that, by myself, only one mouth to feed. I didn't need them.

I needed no one.

My eyes closed. I felt the bench dip and a figure sit next to me.

"Ya alright?" Daryl Dixon, thick southern accent, handsome.

"Yeah,.." I lie.

"Nope" He says bluntly. I look up. My eyes meeting his.

"What-"

"There is somethin up settin ya"

"Daryl truly, I am fine"

"I don't buy it"

"You don't have to" I retort. He grunts.

"I think I need to get out'a here"

"What do yur mean"

"I need to hunt, to do somethin' I cant keep sitting here, It is driving me mad" I jolt up and stand to my feet.

"Let me come, I cant be in here any longer" he starts, "I might go mad too". I laugh, Daryl joining me in a small chuckle.

Daryl, chuckled.

Thats a first.