My Hunter || D. Dixon (On Hold)

Twelve - Doomed From The Start

Everything about last night was surreal, the fact that this place was stormed by walkers was still shocking. I leave my tent, fixing the leather jacket that sits around my shoulders. I walk to the main area where the bodies are being cleaned up and moved into piles and Andrea is still crying over the loss of her sister. My attention, however, went to Shane and Rick, who seemed to be in an argument about what we were going to do next.

Rick crossed his arms, glaring at Shane. "We should go to the CDC." He insists, Shane, shaking his head. It seems that moving was going to be the next move to our survival and the CDC doesn't seem that bad of a choice.

Shane glares right back at him. "What if there's nothing out there? We might run out of gas before we even get there." His voice picks up in anger. They're valid points but with the CDC we can learn more about what this is.

I walk up, standing beside Rick with my arms crossed over my chest. "Rick's right, we shouldn't stay here. Another herd could come through anytime now Shane." I insist, siding with Rick. Shane sighs, running his hand over his face. This clearly is not how he expected his conversation to go whatsoever.

Shane, of course, brushed me off. It was as though my professional opinion doesn't matter to him.

Before Shane can even argue against us a yell echoes out, making me look over towards the rest of the group. "Jim's bit!" Jacqui yells and everything just seemed to get a bit more real. The fact that one of our own was bit and hasn't fallen to it yet was saying something.

A few people quickly stood up and walked towards him. Jim's eyes darted around like we were predators and he was the prey. "Jim," I speak softly to him, making him look to me. "Show it to us," I say to him, holding out my left hand to him through my right hand was on my katana handle at my side just in case.

Jim bends down fast and grabs a shovel in his hands, ready to fight off anyone and everyone. I drew out my katana, the familiar weight falling into my hand, making Jim look to me. Jim focused on me, giving T-Dog the opportunity to rush up behind him and pull his arms back, the shovel falling to the floor. Daryl rushed up and lifts his shirt, showing the bite mark.

I wince a bit at the sight of it, the mark had settled itself over the left side of his ribcage. Daryl stepped back, as did T-Dog and Jim looks around desperately. "I'm okay. I'm okay." He repeats over and over again. Caleb stands beside me as we all stare at him in horror as we come to see that he's not going to last long. The fact is that the placement of the bite was a death sentence to anyone.

I run my hand over my face as Rick gets him to sit down beside the RV. When he came back we were in a little huddle. It was Shane, Caleb, Daryl, Lori, Rick, and myself. "We should put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it," Daryl says and I shoot him a look from where I stood.

Shane almost smirked at him before it just turned into a cold stare. "Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane asks with a glare as he locked eyes with Daryl.

My eyes locked on Daryl as he nodded at Shane. "Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." He said with no hesitation at all, making a shiver run down my spine at the thought.

I shake my head, my mind racing with the endless possibilities that could come out of this. "I'd hate to say it and I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right," Dale speaks up from his spot.

A look crosses Rick's face that says otherwise. "Jim's not a monster Dale or some rabid dog," Rick mutters.

"I'm not suggesting-"

"He's a sick man," Rick says, cutting Dale off from finishing his point.

They started to move towards one another in their argument. "Hey, hey, hey!" Shane says, holding out his hands between the two men in a bit of fear of the worst.

Rick continues his point, the argument still heating up between the two. "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?" Rick asks, looking to Dale.

Daryl rolls his eyes at the pair. "The lines pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or the to be." Daryl states and I look to the ground, not helping but feeling like he was right on that part.

Rick shakes his head, eyeing the redneck before looking around at our little group that was talking on the matter. "What if we could get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure." Rick suggests.

"Heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to Hell." Shane argues.

"What if the CDC's still up and running?" Rick counters.

Shane sighs at his friend's persistence on the topic. "Man, that is a stretch right there," Shane says, sounding very unconvinced.

"Why? If there's still any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection, rescue-"

Shane cuts him off in a heartbeat. "I want those things too, I do okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning." His point is valid if it wasn't for the facts that I know.

Lori was the first one to counter his suggestion. "That's a hundred miles in the opposite direction." I nod in agreement, going to Fort Benning is a lost cause at this point.

Shane nods his head, looking at Lori then around at us. "That's right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me, if that place is operational it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there." Shane reasons.

I shake my head, glancing over at Caleb then turning back to the group. "Our unit wasn't even stationed there because we didn't think it would hold long, we were sent to go and be with our families." I pointed out to the group, crossing my arms as Caleb did the same.

Rick nods, gesturing to me. "Exactly, the military was on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun, we've all seen that. The CDC's our best choice of a chance." Rick argues back.

Daryl pipes up from his spot. "You go looking for aspirin. Do what you need to do." He says walking backward, "Someone's gotta have some balls to take care of this damn problem!" He yells, going to swing his ax at Jim.

I move quickly, "Daryl!" Rick pulled out his gun and I'm standing in front of Daryl, between him and Jim. My breathing spikes a bit in panic as I stare into the blue eyes of the pissed off redneck that was holding a pickaxe in his hands. He has every opportunity to swing the ax and hit me then hit Jim but he didn't make a move.

Ric stood behind him, eyes trained on the back of Daryl's hand. "We don't kill the living," Rick says, pointing his pistol at Daryl's head. Daryl lowers the ax and glares at Rick.

I let out the breath that I was holding. "That's funny, coming from a man who just pointed a gun to my head," Daryl says, stabbing the pick into the ground as Rick holsters his gun and takes Jim into the RV. I run a hand over my face and look around the camp once more as I sigh and go to sit down.

Once I do, my gaze, however, lands on Andrea, who's talking to Amy's corpse, now an animated corpse. I sit up and pull my pistol out of the holster. She pulls her up into a sitting position and Amy grabs at her, beginning to get aggressive. Andrea beings her gun to her temple and pulls the trigger, the body falls to the ground. I put my pistol back in the holster and let out a shaky breath. This was gonna be a long ass journey.