I was speeding down a back road at 125mph listening to AC/DC Thunderstruck. I know what you're thinking but in this post apocalyptic mess they call earth this is pretty mild. I had my windows cracked and my music blasting. I had found this car a few towns back and thought 'What the hell'. I mean as dream cars go this one ranked pretty high. It was a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala stocked full of cassette tapes filled with the best rock music in history. In any other situation I would be ramming these ranks at full speed, but this car was too nice to ruin the paint job. I also wasn't feeling it today.
I'd had better days than today. I mean it started out with my bike being stolen along with all my food by some douche with a death wish. Then I had jumped off a small one story shop and I'm pretty sure I broke my ankle when I had a not so soft landing on a bike rack which also cut my arm deep enough to need several stitches but only had cloth tied around it. I was looking for a place to stop and rest for the night. That's the main reason I was on this road now. I had found a travel brochure and decided that the motel looked pretty nice and was close enough that I'd give it a shot.
I swerved to the side to miss a pack of three coming right down the middle of the road, but the car started to slow as I realized that I had hit a huge patch of mud. I tried to get back to the road but it seemed to me waning and turning into a huge mud pit. I had almost completely stopped then my tiers spun in the mess of water and dirt. The noise and commotion started to attract more ranks. I paused on the gas to roll down the windows even more. When one would stray close enough I'd take my hunting knife and silently dispose of each rank one by one.
After five minutes of nothing but panic when a large group of ranks had come too close for my comfort, I had reached back and grabbed my back pack with my bow and quiver of arrows. Every single knife that I own was strapped to my legs and hip. With that I looked to the driver side door. There were only three ranks in a dangerous distance while the other doors had multiple.
With my best knife in hand I unlocked the door, counted to three, and kicked it open so hard with my good foot that I was able to knock two ranks down on their butts. That's when I went into action. Every rank close enough, I would pierce my knife through their skulls. When they weren't close enough for a knife I took off my bow that was connected to my back pack. Every shot went through the eye socket like my father had taught me to do. Never did I miss a shot; my life literally depended on it, and I guess being a sure shot ran in the family.
I guess my brain had registered the faint sound of cars and some kind of motor cycle coming closer in the distance but my body had taken over and now I was only seeing red. 'I loved that car!' my mind shouted at all the ranks as they clawed and scratched at it. I'd hit rank after rank in the eye socket but they kept coming.
After a few minutes my ankle was on fire and my arm had started bleeding again but somehow I still manged to put them all down. At least I had thought so until I heard cracking of twigs and rustling of leaves beyond the treeline. Aiming my bow with my last arrow, I saw one buts through the tree.
As I almost released the arrow it raised it's arms up, "Woah, woah, woah. Human here!"
I looked closer not daring to lower my bow in case he was a psycho or a thief. The man had mid-length brown hair with matching facial hair. His eyes were bright blue. He was built but not very tall, looking around five ten but of course I had no room to talk. I was only five five. He had a cross bow slung across his back and a knife in his boot which you could see the tiniest but of hilt sticking out. He had a cutoff jean jacket and a matching pair of jeans on. He looked pretty sane but with the way my day has been going I'm not going to press my luck just yet.
"Holy shit! You kill all these by yourself?" He stepped forward looking around at all the ranks on the ground. I held my bow higher and drew back the string a little farther aiming the arrow at his eye. He put his hands back up and stepped back a few feet, "Alright. I'm Daryl Dixon. The rest of my group is on the road a few minutes walk away. We came out here because we heard some kinda diesel engine revin' it up and thought we'd come and see if anyone needed our help, but by the look of it you've got it pretty much handled so I'll just be on my way." The man slowly turned and began walking away until he stopped and turned again, "Unless you need a place to stay. We've got a camp about thirty miles away if you're interested." The corner of his lip twitched in a sympathetic smile. He must have seen my state, but I still remained silent as we just stared at each other, both not daring to move a muscle.
It had started raining when another pair of foot steps came rustling through the trees, "Daryl, what the hell is going on? We can't wait all day for..." Another man with darker curls and a sheriff uniform joined us, "Who's this?" the man stopped putting his hand on his hip where there was bound to be a hidden gun.
I pointed my arrow at him instead now, causing him to join Daryl in a surrender stance, "Diana." I answered sternly.
"Oh so she does talk," Daryl added sarcastically, "Is it because you like him better is that it?"
"Shut up or this arrow is going right through your eye socket. Don't believe me? Just look around. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you." I spit at him.
Then a third set of steps came through the trees. I suppose they didn't hear it, because I have very sensitive ears and the slightest noise can set me on edge, but I was sure it wasn't human based on the dragging noise that accompanied the one good foot.
In between them came a rank and I let my arrow fly. Both men dropped to the ground shielding their heads shouting at me and grabbing their weapons. That is until they say the rank lying on the ground with an arrow protruding out of its left eye socket, "Told ya I could." I smirked as I turned my back to them and started to pluck out the arrows from each of the ranks that I had put down.
"Damn. Now that's a woman," I heard Daryl say quietly so that only the other man could hear but obviously not quiet enough.
"What did you say your name was again?" I asked the man in the sheriff uniform.
"Rick, Rick Grimes."
"And you," I said turning around to face Daryl after placing my last arrow back in my quiver where it belongs, "Where did you say your place was again?" I saved their lives so I might as well get something out of it. Besides I had no way of getting to the motel now that the car was stuck.
I placed my hands on my hips after returning my bow to my back pack and loooked at the two men in front of me. Rick looked back and forth between Daryl and me while Daryl himself just smiled looking me up from head to toe.
