The city disappears behind us and we hit the highway as concrete gives way to countryside. Our speed picks up and I have to stop myself from whooping with joy. The bike flies across the asphalt and I cling to Daryl as tightly as I can, grinning into his back as the wind whips my hair around.
We don't get far out of the city when Daryl slows down and I peek over his shoulder. The highway is littered with cars, trucks, and other vehicles. Just ahead of us, a semi-truck lies tipped on its side, surrounded by various other cars parked in the ditch, their doors hanging open, abandoned by their drivers. Daryl turns the bike around and drives back to the RV as Dale leans out the window.
"See a way through?" Dale asks.
Daryl glances over his shoulder, then nods. Again, the bike turns, and he starts picking his way through the wreckage. I gape at everything. Some cars are empty, but I can see corpses left behind in a concerning number of them. These people were the ones I saw fleeing the city through the department store windows. I heard them screaming, honking their horns, trying to run, and now I know that most of them never made it.
I press my face into Daryl's back and take deep breaths, unconsciously hugging him closer to me like he's a giant teddy bear. I feel him tense up but he doesn't say anything.
I hear a pop and a hiss as a loud, sputtering, creaking noise pierces the air, and I look back as the RV grinds to a halt. Once again, the front grill steams and smokes. Daryl parks the bike, puts up the kickstand, and he waits while I climb off.
"So, how was it?" he asks.
I smile at him. "Amazing."
He smirks a little and we head back to the others, gathering around the RV and its poor, beaten grill.
"Problem, Dale?" I hear Shane ask.
"Just a small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of—"
Daryl goes to the nearest car, its trunk already open, and reaches inside, rifling through the stuff left there. Dale goes quiet.
"Okay, that was dumb," he admits.
"If you can't find a radiator hose here..." Shane starts.
"There's a whole bunch of stuff we can find," Daryl says. He grabs a bright pink backpack and opens it, checking for anything good.
"I can siphon more fuel from these cars for a start," T-Dog offers.
"Maybe some water?" Carol suggests.
"Or food," Glenn says.
"This is a graveyard," Lori says.
T-Dog stops moving. Daryl looks back at her. We all share a few looks. Lori wraps her arms around herself, rubbing herself in a comforting motion as she darts her head down.
"I don't know how I feel about this," she adds, quieter.
No one answers. Daryl confirms that he does know how he feels about all this as he keeps raiding the car. T-Dog heads back inside the RV to get extra gas cans.
"Just look around," Shane says. "Gather what you can, y'all."
Everyone splits up. I go after T-Dog and climb into the RV, heading to where Dale left the first aid kit. It's not a typical one—no hard white case with a red cross—but instead a simple blue shower bag with a carrying handle and a zipper. I set it on the table and check the inventory; medical tape, a few gauze pads, bandaids, and a small pair of scissors. I frown, taking the kit with me when I go back outside.
"Dale, you don't have any Polysporin hiding somewhere, do you?" I ask as I move to the front of the RV.
Dale arches an eyebrow at me. "Polysporin?" he repeats.
YOU ARE READING
Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)
Fanfiction"You know, I think everyone who's ever loved me is dead." "That makes two of us. Fuckin' cheers." When the dead rose, Hope Tremblay found herself trapped, woefully unprepared for the rapidly changing world before her, and worst of all, alone. Day by...
