Silent warrior: A Daryl Dixon Fan fiction

Chapter 15: Stories & Scars

When I get back in the room I shut the door quietly and start to pack things into a bag. I can't put these people in danger. I knew when I saw them what they were here for. They must have been tailing me. They may have even been the ones to burn down the place I called home and I won't let it happen again, I won't let it happen here. I shove the bag under the bed and situate myself in bed waiting for the right time to leave undetected. If I want to slip Clint and his men again I can't wait, it needs to be tonight. I need to get far away before something bad happens. I set my watch alarm for 4:00 just in case I doze off and wait impatiently for time to go by.

The alarm begins to beep and I press the button in once to turn it off. I slip out of the bed and grab my bag. I reach the door handle but freeze before opening it. I turn quickly to the desk and find a piece of paper. I scribble on it quickly and leave it on the bed. I move back to the steps from earlier and listen for anyone who may still be awake. I know there are always 2 people up on watch at a time but they usually are making a perimeter check around this time. I slowly walk down the remaining steps and peek into the living room. I see Ricks familiar belt on the table side next to him and across the way Daryl's bow lay against the wall. I tip toe across the wooden floors into the kitchen. I peak out the window to the back door and make sure it's clear. I move quickly once I'm outside to the spot in the wall. I find it quickly and put distance between Alexandria and myself. After minutes of running I stop to figure out where to go next. My brain races with things I need and I know I need to make a plan. I decide to go to the run down shed Daryl showed me to gather my thoughts and get ready for my move. I get there within the hour and put my bag on the ground by the door. I sit on the hay bale and remove the knife and gun from my pants. I have 13 bullets in the gun in my hand and a pistol in my bag with 4 more. I have 3 food bars and a can of tuna in there as well. The first thing I need is food. I know I have to move more than 200 miles away from here to find somewhere they haven't hit yet. Maybe further if others have already been scavenging. I let out a sigh as the realization hits that's I'm already hungry. I move over to the backpack and take a bite out of one of the bars before replacing it. I sit for a few more moments trying to psych myself up for what's ahead. I hear a twig break outside and my head jerks in the direction it came from. I grab my knife and peak out through a crack in the boarded up window. I can't see anything and move away to the middle of the room. There's no normal grumbling a biter would make and my heart races. Did they follow me out? Is this it? I put the knife back in my pocket while going towards the gun. I bend down to lift it up slowly and get ready to run for it, I'm not going to make it easy for them. I get my gun and sling the bag around me. I tip toe to the door and take a deep breath. I count to three and swing it open, making a run for it. I don't get too far before something sharp punctures my leg. I stumble forward with pain, letting out a small scream of pain. I land face forward into the wet dirty leaves. I scramble forward quickly to reach for my gun. I run through the situation in my head. If I'm shot then I can't keep going, but I won't let them take me. If I can't take them then I'll have to end it myself. All the options run through my brain within seconds and I know the later is my only choice. I hear the twigs crack under the weight of pressure and flip over putting the gun to my temple.

"Jesus! What the fuck Shannon?" Daryl's bow is lowered and his eyes wide when he sees me in the position I am in.

I slowly release my finger off the trigger and let my hand fall with it to the ground. My breath continues to pick up but I can feel my heart beat slow down as I let the relief wash over me "what are you doing out here?" I question him with a hushed tone.

"Lookin' for yew" he responds coldly, throwing my note at the ground by my feet. I nod at him and remember the pain in my leg and go to reach for it with my other hand. "Damn it!" He says coming closer and closing the gap between us.