Lilly Watkins has always been the strong one compared to her twin. That doesn't change when the dead start walking. Taking care of her family during the apocalypse, she never relied on anyone else. When she meets Daryl Dixon, a more temperamental pe...
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"Rick, car!" I alert when I see headlights and we all duck. The car doors open and the men talk to each other while looking for Dave and Tony. I cover my mouth, afraid my breathing is too loud when they're right outside the door. Eventually, they move past.
"Why won't they leave?" I ask after a while.
"I say we head out the back and make a run for the car," Rick says and we nod. There's gunfire, which has us back into hiding but luckily it seemed to be aimed at Walkers and not us.
"You're looking for Dave and Tony and nobody checked the bar?"
"Shit," I mutter, readying my gun, hiding even further in the corner. Rick readies his gun but as soon as the door opens, Glenn jumps in front of it, pushing it shut.
"Look, we don't want no trouble! We're just looking for our friends! We just want to know what happened to them."
"They drew on us!" Rick yells back.
"Oh c'mon, Rick," I scoff, hanging my head. We could've just said they were eaten or something. I needed to keep my feminine voice absolutely shut, though, knowing how this group is.
"They alive?"
"No."
"They killed Dave and Tony!"
And I'd do it again, I think to myself, readying for another firefight.
"Your friends drew on us! They left us no choice!" Rick tried again. "I'm sure we all lost people and did things we wish we didn't have to do! But it's like that now! You know that! So let's chalk that up to what this was, wrong place, wrong ti—" He's cut off by the gunshot that comes through the window. "Get outta here! Go!"
We get a few feet, a bullet grazing my ear before I take cover again behind the bar.
"This won't end well for you! There's nothing in it for any of us! You guys...just back off! No one else gets hurt!" Rick calls out to the other men. Glenn makes a run for it and I lose sight of him so I can't tell if he is okay.
When we hear a gunshot, Rick is off the ground, trying to run towards him. "Glenn!"
"I'm okay!" He yells.
"I'll stay here. See if you can cover Glenn and get to the car," Rick says to both Hershel and me quietly. We nod but I look at Rick worriedly. "Tell Glenn to pull up to the back. We'll run for it. Get the hell out of here."
When we approach, Glenn aims his shotgun at us in fear. Hershel pushes it out of the way.
"Sorry," he repeats in relief.
"Rick wants you to try for the car," Hershel says. I think he's noticed I'm trying to talk as little as possible.
"Try?" Glenn asks in a panic.
"Try and succeed. We'll cover you."
"That's a great plan," he says sarcastically. Still, he cautiously steps out, Hershel and I behind him. There's a gunshot from behind us aimed at the young man. I turn, shooting towards the source. The man falls in agony. Looking back in Glenn's direction, it looks like he's been hit, as there's a body not moving.
"Are you hit?" Rick whispers when he gets closer.
"No," Glenn whispers back.
"It's alright, the car's right there. We'll be going home," Rick assures him. I go further, watching my surroundings. Suddenly, there are gunshots.
"Get back," Rick pushes Glenn and me back.
"Let's get out of here!" the men yell and we hear tires squeal. "Jump!" they yell to a man on the roof. There's an ear-piercing scream sure to attract Walkers from the younger man. It's clear he didn't make his jump.
"Help me! No, don't go! Please!" he shouts in absolute misery.
"Get Hershel," Rick tells Glenn as I follow him to the injured man. It's worse than we thought when we get closer. He's impaled on a wrought iron fence.
"We gotta go," Hershel says after taking one look at the boy.
"We can't."
"Rick," I say his name, pointing at all the Walkers surrounding us with my pistol.
"He was just shooting at us," Glenn yells, attracting with even more noise.
"He's just a kid," Rick says. He pulls Hershel over into a private chat before they come back over, giving Glenn and me orders.
"We're gonna have to find some tinder, cauterize wound so he doesn't bleed out."
I hand him what he needs before going to cover them as they perform the procedure. Glenn is panicking next to me at the number of Walkers heading towards us.
"I'm out of ammo, Rick! We're out of time!" I shout.
With one look at the situation, Rick yanks the kid's leg up.
It's daylight by the time we arrive back. My body is completely exhausted as I get out of the vehicle and I just now realize how sore I am.
"Aunt Lilly!" Ashley throws her arms around me and I return the hug. "You're hurt!" She points at my head. I touch it and wince. It's where I was grazed.
"It's okay. I'm okay. I need to go sit down somewhere."
I go inside, sitting down at the kitchen table, already knowing Rick is planning on holding a group meeting there. The meeting starts after Hershel is done with his leg so Patricia can be present.
"He would've bled out," Rick says. "If he lived that long. It's gotten bad in town."
"What do we do with him?" Andrea asks what everyone is wondering.
"I repaired his calf muscle the best I could," Hershel says, walking into the room, wiping his hands. "But he'll probably have nerve damage. Probably won't be on his feet for a week."
"When he is, we give him a canteen, take him out to the main road, send him on his way."
The door opens behind me and when I turn, it's none other than the elusive redneck. There's anger in his expression as he looks upon me and goes to stand in the back. I audibly sigh.
My head throbs as the bickering between Shane and Rick escalates. When Shane goes after Hershel, I stand up, ready to defend him.
"Whoa, you look unsteady," Marie says, coming up beside me. "You look worn out. Daryl, how about you help her to the tent?"
I glare at Marie at her obvious attempt at matchmaking. "I can walk myself there," I stumble as I say.
"C'mon," he mutters, letting me put his weight on him. Carol smiles at me, which I return but Daryl just grunts, increasing his speed out of there.
"Something against her today?"
"Something like that. Drop it."
When we get to camp, Daryl gets a clean rag and water, dabbing at the cut on my head. He's so close, I can feel his breath on my face. If I angled myself up slightly and tilted, I could kiss him.
Stop thoughts, I yell internally to myself.
My fingers start to play with his buttons as he continues and I hear a sharp intake of breath when one pops open.
"You're cleaned up now," he says hoarsely. "I've gotta go."
