Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 65: A Dream for the Future

Preparing for war isn't easy, but I find ways to make myself useful by dedicating my time to replenishing the infirmary. With the help of Elliot's extensive notes and diagrams, I forage for wild herbs and edible plants to supplement our food supply. There are bees in my hives, but there won't be honey for months yet. When there is something to harvest, I can start making salves and ointments.

Carl comes with me on most days, and I bring Tabitha along when I don't plan to go far. Between the two of them, I feel safe, and Carl is a big help. I've taken to bringing a med kit with me when I leave Alexandria, just in case I get hurt or somehow come across another survivor who needs help.

Part of my replenishment work requires finding medical equipment and supplies from wherever I can get them; houses with medicine cabinets, pharmacies, schools, the list goes on. My biggest find was after Tabitha located an ambulance turned over in a ditch, mostly covered by overgrown trees, its hood sunk in a creek. The majority of its equipment was locked away inside, safe and sound. I wouldn't have noticed it, but Tabitha loves sniffing everything she comes across, and watching her made me notice the hidden gold mine.

Thanks to that find, the infirmary feels like somewhere where I can do a lot of good again. The Saviours left it feeling bare, but the ambulance's supplies and stash of emergency medicine breathed life back into the place. We have both a wheeled stretcher and an auxiliary one, oxygen-bag-valve masks, splints, bandages, cervical collars, a sterile burn kit and a maternity kit, gloves, and other supplies packed in dusty but sterile packaging.

I hope that all my hard work doesn't have to pay off. In an ideal world, no one would get hurt. It's a fantasy to even think of it, yet that tiny smidge of naïvety clings to me while I watch everyone leave Alexandria. The war has truly begun.

We wouldn't have gotten nearly as far as we have without Dwight acting as our man on the inside. He's been good on all his promises, and against my better judgment, I've started to trust him. I don't dare say a word of it to Daryl. Just mentioning his name makes his whole expression darken.

"Hope, got something for you," Daryl says.

Everyone gathers around our vehicles, armed to the teeth, calling to each other as they make last-minute preparations. Not Daryl, though. Daryl seems pensive, maybe torn. He holds a tan leather sheath in his hand, fiddling with it a little, and I note the worn handle, some white wood showing around the places where it's been held the most.

I frown. "Isn't that yours?"

"It was Beth's," he admits. My breath hitches. "Figured...you needed a new one. It ain't your old Bowie, but it's good."

I take it, holding it like it's something far more precious than a hunting knife. My knife, the bone-handle one I got from Dale so long ago, was taken from me when the Saviours captured me. Daryl told me that Dwight attempted to return it to him as a show of faith, but it broke on his way to Alexandria. Daryl offered for me to keep the handle, but without the blade, I didn't see the use. I need to learn to let things go.

Holding Beth's knife, once again, I feel like I'm being given a weapon that means so much more.

"Thank you," I murmur to him.

He nods. "Take care of yourself," he says. "We'll be back soon."

"The sooner, the better."

A final hug. I squeeze him tight, feeling the fluttering, swimming sensation of our baby boy moving around. There's a tiny tap that makes Daryl pull back, and he squats, pressing a kiss to the bump.

"Be nice to your ma, kid," he mumbles. As he stands, he lightly touches my arm. "You leaving the walls again today?"

"I won't go far. Not without Carl, at least."