Once A Dixon, Always A Dixon (Daryl Dixon)

Knocked Out

Setting: Leading the Walkers Away, Season Six

*Daryl's POV*

"Alright," Sasha says over the walkie. 

"That's twenty?" I ask. 

"It will be," Sasha confirms. "642 is a mile ahead. We gotta put distance between us and them before the turnoff."

"So floor it," Abraham says. 

"Alright, try to keep up," I taunt. I hit the gas and speed up.

"Daryl, have you looked at this car?" Sasha scoffs. "Believe me, we want to get back there, too." We reach the turnoff and a smile creeps along my face as I realize the hard part is over. 

Or so I thought.

We drive through a small town when some assholes start shooting at us from behind. 

"Son of a-" I yell and hit the gas. The bike slides and I fall to the ground. The car continues chasing Sasha and Abraham. I get back on my bike and get the hell outta there.

A car appears behind me. 

"Shit," I mutter and drive behind some dumpsters. Bad idea. There's walkers everywhere. I duck and cover as I drive through them. 

I see the car take a bad turn and crash into an abandoned bus. That'll teach 'em. I start driving away, but what a surprise, another car goes after me! 

I duck into the woods and wait for the car to pass. My plan works and I drive deeper into the forest. My arm and head ache something awful. 

I come to a part of the forest that's charred. In exhaustion, I stop the bike and let my self fall onto the blackened ground. 

The left sleeve of my jacket has bullet holes in it. In pain, I lie down and try to assess the situation. 

A walker growls besides me. I flip over quickly and see a walker that's just bones with a motorcycle helmet on its head.

I lie back down in between my motorcycle and the walker. This day just took a turn for the worse. 

I get up and start pushing my bike through the woods. For some damned reason, my legs feel like hell. Soon, the weight of the bike becomes too much for me and I drop it by a fallen branch. I take my radio and hold down the "talk" button.

"Sasha?" I wheeze. "Abraham, you there?" The response I get is some hissing static. 

Blood drips to the ground. My blood. I notice my left hand is a glossy red. I take off the fingerless glove and, sure enough, my hand is covered in blood. I start to remove my jacket and wince in pain. 

Two bullets must've grazed my left arm. I throw the jacket by my bike, leaving me in my sleeveless, black button-down. I reach down to grab my bike pack when a twig snaps. Something rustles in the bushes. 

I sling the pack over my shoulder and grab my crossbow. I pull the tree branch over my bike to hide it. 

I start creeping around the trees, trying to find what made that noise. I raise my crossbow as I come around a fallen tree that's leaning on a tall oak. 

I approach the tree and two young women pop out from behind it with their hands up. One has long brown hair, the other has a blonde pixie cut.

"You found us, okay?" the brunette says. "Here we are. We earned what we took."

A branch snaps behind me. I turn around just in time to see a sandy-haired man swing at my head.

The world turns to black in a snap.