Last One Standing ~ TWD Daryl Dixon

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Jo

Twenty minutes later I was tossing our packs into the back of Daryl's truck. Rick had already helped move Nick into the RV where he could sit at the table and keep his leg elevated. I had given him the last dose of pills to help keep him quiet on the trip and he had instantly fallen asleep.

Shane had room in his jeep but Rick seemed to think that wasn't the best idea. I didn't argue. I didn't much like the idea of riding with the surly man. Daryl and I had at least seemed to come to an understanding of sorts.

Rick took Kate in his car with his family. I tried to protest, not wanting to be separated from her, but the only other option was to have her ride on the bench seat of Daryl's truck with us and she wouldn't get much rest doing that.

I was just hefting the second pack when Daryl stepped around the back and took the last from my feet, moving to toss it in the back.

"Wait," I said. "Not that one."

He gave me a quizzical look, then looked down at the backpack in his hands. It was a worn, grey hiking pack. One I had had since I was a teenager and started backpacking. My golf club was tucked into the loops normally reserved for trekking poles.

"That one stays with me," I said resisting the urge to snatch it from his grasp.

He nodded and handed it back to me. "Won't be much leg room," he observed scratching at the stubble on his cheeks.

I snorted and looked down at my legs. "Don't need much. Anyway, that bag doesn't leave my side."

"Suit yourself," He grunted and made his way back around to his side of the truck.

I tossed my pack in the space at my feet and pulled myself up into the cab. I buckled myself in, glancing down at Daryl's crossbow that sat in the middle between us.

I had no idea if this was the right thing to do. I didn't know if it was right to trust these people. I didn't know if it was right to go into Atlanta. Nick had been insistent that we avoid the city and here I was, blatantly disregarding his wishes. But Nick wasn't in charge anymore, he was out of commission. Daryl had had my back in the forest, but I still was on edge.

Daryl and I rode in comfortable silence for almost an hour before he cleared his throat.

I glanced over at him. He looked at me, then back to the road. "I'm not gonna attack you or whatever it is ya think is gonna happen so ya can let go of yer knife."

I looked down, surprised to realize I had in fact been resting my hand on the grip the whole time. "Sorry." I muttered, embarrassed. I flexed my fingers just now noticing they had cramped up. I rolled my shoulders, trying to let go of the tension. "We haven't had the best of luck with strangers...so..." I dragged off, sighing. I had been terrible at small talk before the apocalypse, and the months since had done nothing to sharpen my skills. "How long have you been with the group?"

Daryl's hand flexed on the wheel, tightening all the muscles up his bare arm. Nice to know I wasn't the only one who was tense. "'Bout a month." He drawled. His accent was thicker than most people's in this part of the state and I wondered where he came from.

I nodded at his answer and continued to stare out the windshield at Rick's vehicle in front of us. Kate's head was still resting to the side against the pillow Lori had given her when we had settled her there.