My Redneck (Sequel to That Redneck/ Daryl Dixon Fanfic)

Chapter 6- Everybody Makes Mistakes

The crickets sang softly in the tall, dehydrated grass while the yellow buckeye trees swung their branches around madly with the cool evening breeze gusting through their limbs causing the leaves to rattle and shake back and fourth. The night sky was dotted with millions of twinkling stars and it was actually peaceful as Daryl and I climbed out of the pickup truck back at the Prison. I lifted one of the bags up and inhaled the fresh Georgia air. The only sound that accompanied the wind and the singing insects, were the moans of the dead.

"Come on, it's cold out here. Let's get this shit to Tayler." Daryl beckoned as he carefully lifted his bag up.

I sighed, leaving the fresh air and slowly followed after him inside of the Prison. When we entered the Prison, the first thing we heard was shouting and laughter, two rare things ever heard around here. Daryl and I trudged down the hallway, sharing the occasional curious glance back and forth. Glenn, Carl, Allison and Kat sat around one of the tables, poker chips were scattered on the table while folds of cards were tucked up close to their faces.

Sasha, Tyreese, Damon, Maggie, Beth and everyone else besides the children and the elderly (despite Hershel) were socializing together amongst the room, all of them watching the card game unravel at the table. The only people not here were Rick and Carol.

"I fold." Carl sighed defeatedly, laying his cards down flat on the table.

"You're back." Hershel said, noticing us from across the room.

Everyones heads turned to us in a synchronized unison and we walked inside slowly. "Ya." I mumbled, turning and walking across the room to drop Taylers supplies off.

The laughter and conversations started back up as I made my way across the room. I smiled to myself as I faintly heard Daryl asking about booze. I ducked around the corner towards Taylers room, adjusting the bag in my grip.

"I don't know." Carol grumbled loudly, alerting me of her presence inside of Taylers room.

"Their must be something we can do." Rick's voice asked.

I leaned against the wall, listening to the duo speak back and fourth about Tayler's condition.

"What Mariah and Daryl bring back will help, but we can't do much of anything else. Tayler's a fighter, she held on way longer than what I thought and she even seemed to be improving. However we may need to make a choice Rick, either waste meds and hope for her to wake up. Or let her go early on and mourn." Carol explained.

I was shocked. It had come to that.

Death or a coma.

"You just said she was improving?" Rick stated angrily.

"Yes she was. But with the lack of food in her system, we might not be able to keep her going for much longer." She sighed.

"You expect me to tell Mariah that her sister is either going to die or never wake up?" Rick clarified.

Carol sighed. "No, thats not what I said. It's too early to tell, but we need to get Mariah prepared for anything." She stammered.

"Not just Mariah, Carol. Everyone will mourn. We're a family now, and we're loosing one of our own." Rick implied.

Someone sighed heavily in the room and footsteps started to creak towards me. I quickly pressed my back to the cool wall and watched the curtain flutter past Carol as she rubbed her face hopelessly. I peered around the corner, past the sheet and Rick sat in a chair beside Tayler. His elbow was propped up on his knee and he cradled his head in his hand, looking at Tayler with sadness.

I walked into the room slowly, my feet dragging against the floor and Rick looked up at me before flickering his eyes back to Tayler.

"So a coma or death?" I said as strongly as possible even though I could feel my lower lip quivering.