Panacea - {Daryl Dixon Fanfiction}

Day 205 - Twenty Questions

Once Gabry was over her fatigue, Bexley had her on the red pony and then they were on the move. In the time they had been together, Gabry had learned an excess of things about her heroine:

She was nineteen and originally from Oklahoma, having only come East for college.

She had been heading to Washington DC on a hunch that things were better there, because afterall, "That's where the President is."

The first place she had raided out on her own was a Victoria Secret, saying that "You cannot go through the apocalypse with the wrong support." She even gave Gabry a new bra, and a spare. (She had raided more than just her size to "be safe".)

She had agreed to take Gabry as far south as Chattanooga, but would not go back through Georgia.

Gabry learned that the dead heads on her saddle and the blood smeared on her and the horses disguised her from the creepers (that is until it was sweated off).

She never used a gun, only the throwing knives and a machete she had on her saddle. "Gunfire attracts the living, too." It had taken four hours for Gabry to get one to stick into a tree. 

She liked nearly every type of music (with the exception of 90's) and would sing any random lyric that came to mind, ranging from AC/DC to Taylor Swift. She wasn't all that bad of a singer, but with Gabry's head feeling like it could explode any minute, she was ready to throttle her if it meant getting just a moment of silence. 

Gabry still felt like she had the flu, less drowsy, but still sore all over. Riding for ten hours a day wasn't really helping her either, and even if she wanted to walk, she couldn't keep up with the pace of the horses. Even when Bexley offered to walk with her, she had become dizzy. 

"What's your favorite type of music?"

Gabry snapped to attention, holding onto the saddle horn to steady herself. "Huh?"

Bexley had been babbling all afternoon to the point that Gabry had eventually tuned her out. She twisted around in the saddle so Gabry could hear her better. "Favorite music genre?"

"I don't know...country." That had been the only genre she and Daryl could agree upon in the truck, and even still sometimes they got so frustrated with each other they'd just turn the radio off and sit in silence. 

"Country, eh? I didn't really take you for country. You know, truth is, I don't know all that much about you. It's been, what? Two and a half weeks? Come on, twenty questions and I'll shut up for the rest of the day."

Gabry snorted. "Deal." She had come to like Bexley, not matter how annoying she might have been. She was someone who hadn't changed much after the outbreak, and her chipper-spirit lifted the mood.

"Okay, um...where are you from? No, wait, you told me Blue Ridge. Um...what was your career before all of this?"

Gabry shrugged. "I didn't really have one. I gave horseback riding lessons."

"What a coincidence. Er, biggest fear? Other than the creepers."

"I really hate sharks."

"Ugh, same. I hate the ocean. One thing you miss before all of this?"

Him. The smell of his t-shirt when she'd steal them. They way he looked at her. The way he touched her, kissed her, held her. The way he'd laugh or smile. She missed the little things, like when he got the hiccups, the way he glared at her when she was poking fun at him, or the way his arms looked when he was driving. She missed her family, but knowing they weren't alive and that maybe he was still somewhere out there made her miss him more. "I miss the smell of barbecue."