The Odd One Out ~A Daryl Dixon X Reader~

Chapter 1

Your POV:

I sighed and scuffed the road with my torn sneaker. The sun beat down and the air was dry and breathless.

The woods loomed before me, cool and beckoning with all the shade, but Nooooo.

I had to stand guard on a horrible road in the sun while the others tramped through the woods like a bunch of elves!!

T-Dog looked at me and smiled a little and shrugged.

"They said only a bit! They were scouting. Jesus! Now we've gotta guard." I complained.

T-Dog laughed and pulled out a cigarette. "Don't worry. Carol and Andrea will take guard soon."

Carol, Andrea, and Carl were asleep in the RV, Hershal was with Meggie and Michone collecting herbs, and Daryl, Rick, Glenn and the rest of the crew were scouting ahead on the road and in the woods in two groups. And we, were stuck guarding whilst it was hot.

A mosquito buzzed near my face and I waved it away. I switched the colt I had from one hand to another and closed my eyes.

I took a deep breath. The air smelled like baked dirt, leaves, and that was about it. I opened my eyes. "T-Dog, remember when the air smelled like hamburgers and fries?"

T-Dog groaned. "Man, don't remind me! I'm hungry enough!"

I shut up. I was hungry too. It'd been three days since we'd eaten and my stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself.

The buzzing of bugs filled the air. My ears finally picked up a faint noise.

I whirled around and scanned the shadowed forest. A branch snapped and some leaves rustled. "Rick?" I called cautiously. No reply. I cocked my gun. "Michone? Daryl?"

Suddenly a low, throaty groan answered my calls. I silently walked over to the edge of the woods. "I think it's just one." I whispered to T-Dog.

Sure enough, a bent, rotted corpse stumbled into a patch of light streaming through the leaves.

I raised my gun and POW! With one bullet the corpse crumpled. I blew some (h/c) wisps out of my face. "See? Easy." I turned around to face T-Dog.

"T-DOG!" I shrieked leveled my gun as a Walker went to grab him.

T-Dog dove out of the way and hit the road the wrong way on his leg. There was a sickening pop and he let out a scream.

POW! I quickly disbatched the zombie and rushed over to T-Dog. He was groaning and clutching his leg. Sweat shone bright against his bronze skin.

"Hey, its gonna be alright." My stomach turned at the angle his leg was wrenched at. "Hershel'll fix it."

I heard more stumbling and a chorus of groans. Walkers began to stumble out of the woods like water out of a faucet. I cursed and hefted up T-Dog. He shreiked in pain.

I half ran half wobbled over to the RV. A Walker reached its hand out and I dove inside just before it grabbed my ponytail.

I threw myself against the door as the Walkers began to pound on it. "CAROL! ANDREA!" I screamed. "HELP!!"

A torn hand reached through the door and I grabbed my combat knife and sliced the fingers off. I slammed against the door.

This is bad. This is very bad. "ANDREA!!!" T-Dog was out cold.

A herd of zombies, stuck in an RV, and with our group scattered about the forest like chickens.

How could this get any worse?