Sneaky

Chapter 33

Daryl's POV

Alarmed amber eyes stared up at me for a solid two seconds before Eve's shoulders dropped, visibly relaxing.

A heavy sigh escaped mud-caked lips as she glanced down, before her eyes came back up to meet mine, a relieved smile replacing the panic-stricken expression from before.

I grabbed her slick muddy arm with both hands and she gripped back as best she could, and pulled her up enough she could almost get out.

It ain't enough, the mud covering every inch of her is too slick, every time she grabs something her hand just slides. My own grip is slipping every time I grab her.

My hold on Eve's forearm slid to her wrist and her foot slipped, slamming her chest against the root my foot was braced against.

Eve coughed hoarsely at the impact and her arm started slipping out of my grip as she started sliding down.

Her grip tightened on my arm but it wasn't helping much she was still sliding.

It was awkward to grab the back of her belt and under her arm but it was the only leverage I could get that didn't slip through my fingers(literally).

Leaning back, I finally pulled her over the edge far enough she got her knee up and we both fell back onto the dry ground. Eve tried to get off my arm but her hand slid and her jaw hit my forearm with a painful 'clack' before she managed it.

I flinched at the sound, knowing I'll have a bruise there tomorrow but as soon as she got up she rolled onto her back and took the fastest deep breaths I've ever seen.

"Thought I said I wouldn't come save ur ass" I panted, glancing over the raised root now covered in mud, into the sinkhole.

How long she been down there? That's gotta be at least 20 feet deep.

I glanced around before resting my arms over my knees. What the Hell is in this mud? It's like slim.

I tried to wipe some of it off on my jeans but it didn't do much, 'cept turn my knee brown.

I watched 'er reach up and push the muddy mass of dark hair out of her face, pulling some of it away from her mouth.

The drying grey mud covers almost every inch of 'er. It's even stuck in clumps on her eyelashes.

I watched her breaths slow and her face twist in disgust when she licked her lips and she coughed again.

"Thanks"

I stared at her for a second before nodding. "Yer welcome"

I still ain't used to hearing 'er speak. Startin' to wonder if I'll ever be.

She sat up and spit mud from her mouth into the hole, going to wipe her mouth on her sleeve but stopped when her eyes fixed on the two inches of sludge caked on it.

I watched her lean her arms on 'er knees, breathing in through 'er nose and out 'er mouth.

Her hands are shaking, and I can't see much of 'er skin underneath the mud, but I know she ain't that pale.

Only time I've ever seen 'er hands shake like this was at the CDC, when we were locked in and she grabbed my shirt.

Eve ain't afraid a much —tries to hide it when she is— but everybody's gotta be afraid a somethin'.

She's claustrophobic, figured that out at the CDC, but I didn't think it was this bad.

Eve's POV