The Pure and the Damned • TWD: Daryl Dixon

1. No Going Back.

Dakota Matthews was never a quiet girl. She was the type of girl who was hissed at every five minutes to lower her voice! Noise attracted walkers, after all, and walkers were all Dakota ever knew. There wasn't a world where they didn't exist. To her, it seemed impossible. With wide, curious eyes, she would listen to the stories her father would tell about the world before. The world when it was owned by the living.

There were apparently these things called sodas that were sweet and bubbly. You would have liked them, Dakota's dad would always tell her. He'd talk about Twinkies and how they never went bad. He'd talk about movie stars in Hollywood and musicians in New York. He'd talk about it all. He talked about his favorite old western; Shane. You would've loved it, he would always say.

All the kids were fascinated by it. Of course, there were the kids who had just started pre-school when the world came crashing down, and they had their distant memories of what life was like. But none of them had any clue what life was like in America. They were all born and raised in France. The only idea of American culture they had was what they learned from their tapes of Mork & Mindy, which wasn't much.

"Your mom loves this show, Koty," Mark Matthews told his daughter when they first watched the show.

The kids welcomed Mark and Dakota reluctantly, seeing as they didn't speak any French, but they welcomed them nevertheless. It took some adjusting, but soon Mark and Dakota were one of them. Mark took care of them as their teacher grew sicker and sicker over the years while Dakota made friends with the other children.

But today, Mark decided, Dakota and a few other children had to learn to hunt, too. He wasn't going to be there forever. They needed to learn. They could protect themselves- they'd all already been taught self-defense- and they could scavenge all they wanted, but they would run out of food to find eventually. He couldn't hunt for them forever.

Mark wasn't planning on staying with the kids in the first place. He was planning to get back on his feet and stay with them until he found a boat, a map, and all the other things he would need to get himself and Dakota across the ocean. But he got stuck. He couldn't leave those kids there with a dying teacher and no one else to help them. He needed to at least teach them to survive before he could just leave them all alone. He needed to be sure that they could keep living without him before he could abandon them.

So, he stayed for a month. And then two months. And then six, and then a year. And then two years. He was growing attached. He already had grown attached. He wanted to take care of the kids, but he wanted to get back home to his wife and sons. He needed to get both himself and Dakota back to their family.

"One week. We're staying for one more week, Dakota, then we have to leave," Mark decided on a particularly cloudy day. And so he had one week to teach all the children to hunt.

Day one went well. The older children learned quickly. They knew their weapons well and it didn't take them long to learn to use them to find food.

Day two was a test. Mark took the older children out once more and he let them go off on their owns. They all returned with something to cook and eat. They really were quick learners. That was what happened when you grew up fighting for your life. You learn to adjust quickly and easily.

Day three was harder. Mark took out the younger kids. They weren't so bad with their weapons, but they could help getting distracted.

I found a praying mantis.

Look, a squirrel.

Why is the sky blue?

So day three was a bust. The kids would have to go out once more.