Daryl's Little Fighter (Book I)

Eighteen

(Y/N)'s P.O.V

The next morning and new few weeks went rather slow. Sasha, Abraham and Rosita came back to the church without Bob later that day and found a fresh gash on a tree with a small amount of blood on it. It was found the direction that Bob had disappeared off into. The three of them went out today to continue the search.

The scar on my leg and rather my entire body was healing well. I can finally smell out of my nose properly and the fracture in my jaw was seemingly healed. I can now run properly but I still don't want to do much on my leg while it is still healing. Instead of being in on all the action, I decide to do a little investigation. I walk over to mom and she smiles.

"What's up honey?" She asks.

"This is gonna sound weird but do you by any chance have a pen or pencil and a pad of paper?" I ask. She says nothing and pulls out a notepad with a pencil and eraser. They're brand new too.

"I knew if we found each other again that you'd ask me for one. You always were so occupied with drawing and writing when you were young." She says smiling.

I take the items and thank her with a smile. I sit down on a crate near a window I saw Bob at and begin to sketch the perimeter out. I draw the church and the forest surrounding it. I draw the direction in which Bob went and the tree with the gash and blood on it, also in the same direction Bob went. I sigh and begin to write below the sketch.

'Bob sighted around 3pm wandering into the woods. 20 minutes later, he did not return.

Fresh gash, a sign of a struggle.. Who would kidnap a man and not kill him? Why didn't they kill him and leave? He had to be attacked. Or ambushed..

He might have ran away because of a walker. The walker might've cut themselves on the tree.'

I sigh again and hear footsteps approach me, to which I continue to look down at my book, knowing who is approaching me. Just as I am about to get up, I am pushed to the floor by Sasha. I land back into the crates and groan.

"Again?" I groan.

"Sasha!" Dad says as he runs up to Sasha and shoves her. Dad helps me up and I growl at her.

"What the hell was that for?" I grunt at her as I rub my leg gently.

"This is all your fault!" She yells back.

"My fault?" I growl, beginning to grow impatient with her.

"(Y/N). Calm down." Dad says, obviously a little frightened of the scary face I am pulling on Sasha.

"If you went after him, maybe he'd still be here!" she yells. She swings her fist at me, but I catch it and grip her closed hand tightly, making her yelp in pain.

"Face it Sasha! He's probably dead! Don't you dare blame me for his dumbass actions. How can I go after him in the condition I'm in? You said it yourself that he would be fine so I took YOUR word for this. So why don't you stop being a fucking baby about this and work WITH me not AGAINST me " I yell trying to talk reason into her.

I release the tight grip I had on Sasha's hand. She tries to swing again when I grab the gun out of my holster and point it at her head.

"Don't even test me girlfriend." I say. She lowers her fist and storms off. I sigh, put my gun back in its holster and look at my hands, as they are shaking like hell. Carl walks up to me and hugs me tightly, to which I hug back. After around 20 seconds, we pull apart and he smiles, and I return the gesture.

"I wasn't actually gonna shoot her Carl." I say smiling sadly.

"I know." He replies. I sigh and walk over to my stuff and grab my sketch book so I can record any new information about this. Carl runs over to me and looks at me worriedly.