Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Hunter or the Hunted

"Listen to me Haley, we have to do this. Do you understand?"

I looked at my sister's tear streaked face, and tried to offer a reassuring smile. She was shaking so hard I was surprised her bones weren't shattering with each convulsion.

If ever there was a gentle soul it was my baby sister, and I loved that about her. Her outlook on life, her optimism, her spirit, it was simply contagious. She was, in a nutshell, everything I wasn't. Where I was hard and unyielding, she was forgiving and kind. While I was sarcastic and un-trusting, she was made friends with everyone in the room. She was untouched by the cruelty of the world. Too young to remember our shattered childhood and I was glad for that, but if there was ever someone who was utterly unprepared for the dead to rise up it was her. She couldn't drive past road kill without bursting into tears and wanting to have a "proper funeral", and now here we were literally surrounded by the undead getting ready to fight our way out. Well, I was going to fight our way out. She was going to run like hell and not look back. That was the plan anyway.

"Tell me again," I prompted, holding her face between my hands to keep her eyes from darting about the deadly scene playing out in the streets of Atlanta.

She swallowed hard, her eyes closing briefly. "When you say to I'm going to run for the truck. I don't stop. I don't look back." She sniffed, new tears welling up in her beautiful brown eyes. "You'll distract them until I'm there, but if you can't make it back then I...then I..." she trailed off, another round of sobs escaping.

"You what Haley?" I asked, my tone harsh as I shook her.

It broke my heart when she flinched, but I needed her to say it. To understand and not hesitate.

"I leave," she cried, sobbing into my shoulder as she pulled her to me. Sighing, I rubbed her back before pulling her head away so I could look at her.

"We're gonna make Haley. You just run for that truck and don't stop, no matter what. Get inside, get it started, and I'll be right behind you. We're getting out of here, and you're going to be fine."

It was the only lie I ever told my sister.

I jolted awake, sitting upright so fast my head spun. When was the last time I ate? Yesterday? The day before? I honestly couldn't remember.

I could see the sun rising as I peeked between the gaps of wood in the prison, I mean shed, and figured it was still early. Running my hands through my hair I tried to shake the nightmare. Flopping back on the ground I closed my eyes and willed the past from my mind. Thinking about that day in Atlanta was not something I could do right now. There would be time for "what if's" and regret later when I was alone, and could continue to mourn in private. If I was judging my captors right they would be making an appearance shortly, and the last thing I wanted them to witness was weakness.

Weakness got you killed.

Taking a few deep breaths I let my body relax, and just enjoy the feeling of safety, if only for a moment, even if it wasn't real. I might die in a few minutes or maybe tomorrow, but right now, in this shed I wasn't facing an imminent threat, and that was something.

Living life one second at a time was a rite of passage these days. Anyone who said otherwise was either stupid or dead. From outside I heard footsteps approaching, the shed door opened with a groan and a creak as two people made their way inside.

"I thought you said she was handcuffed?"

The outraged voice sounded like Rick. Fearless leader come to lay down the law no doubt.