The Devils Eyes •Daryl Dixon•

O N E : S T R A N G E R

Running and fighting, those were the only things that kept you alive these days. By not staying in one spot for long could maybe guarantee your survival. Survival was never guaranteed now, and by constantly moving then it might delay your death. I've been running two months after the world fell and it's kept me alive so far.

I sent an arrow into the muertos skull getting too close to comfort. My bow never failed me. I navigated my way through an old warehouse hoping to find anything useful. Obviously, I don't find much as the place has already been picked clean by scavengers. I spot a shelf holding a box of granola bars.

"Finally," I grinned as I stuffed it in my bag. It wouldn't do much in terms of nutrition, but it'd help get through the next day.

It'd been so long since I've had luck. Two months ago I'd been separated from my adoptive father. Our small broken family was no more thanks to this cruel world.

I can't help but think of him, my biological dad and I can't help the scowl getting on my face. Every fiber of my being hated that vile villain who only made my life a living hell. He's caused too many scars on my body to count, both mentally and physically. His name would always be engraved in me, those memories would be stuck with me for the rest of my life.

I headed to the back of the warehouse and spotted an empty case where guns were once on display. I walked towards it, the glass crunching under my feet and of course, it's empty. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I searched the entire floor around the case to find some form of weapon and spotted two arrows on the floor, causing a grin to break out on my face.

I'd been dangerously low on arrows for the past week and quickly stuffed them in my quiver. My eyes then catch a dead muerto with a bolt in it. I placed my foot on the skull and pulled it out, and I frowned as I observed it.

Wish I had a crossbow. Then that'd be badass. It's bulkier than my bow a little but it'd still be fun to have one. I shrugged as I dropped the bolt in my quiver anyways, figuring I could stab a muerto with it instead.

Once I knew nothing was left, I went back to the front of the store. My eyes caught sight of a gumball machine and I looked at it longley.

Wouldn't hurt to get some gum. I walked to the cash register and used the tip of a knife I'd found with the initials D.D. days ago to open it. It clanged as it shot open. I grabbed a few quarters, surprised there were even some in it. I tossed in some and watched the balls roll down the spiral before hitting the bottom.

I pulled out a handkerchief to wrap around the gumballs and stuffed them in my bag. I popped one left in the machine and a sweet bubblegum flavor spread in my mouth and I couldn't help the satisfying groan leaving my mouth.

The one thing I missed from the old world was the food. Fast-food, chips, candy, soda, burgers, tacos, gums, shit like that. I'd kill to make tamales again.

I left the store and began heading to my truck in the distance trying not to waste time. If a herd rolled through, I'd be toast. Some muertos broke through the treeline and I continued on, doing my best to just ignore them.

I turned the corner of the store leading to my truck and I spotted a small herd.

"Shit!" I cursed and ducked back, grateful only two of them spotted me. I quickly took them out, and then grimaced in disgust as I knew what I had to do to get out alive. I plunged it in its abdomen and drug it across, praying no other muertos approach. I grabbed the intestines and wrapped it around my neck, spreading the blood over my clothes.

I hated doing this to simply survive, but it was the only option I had. I didn't have any bullets and the noise would only draw more. I rounded the corner once more and treaded carefully through hoping none would notice me. I smiled in relief when I spotted my truck waiting in the distance and before I could reach it, a gunshot erupted in the distance.