All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 12

“Go! Go!” Merle yells at us.

The adrenaline kicks in and I’m already running. I make it fifty feet before noticing Daryl isn’t beside me. When I turn around, I have to literally pull him by his wrist to make him separate from his brother. Merle disappears inside and Daryl finally follows. The packs are so heavy on my back, I begin to wonder how Daryl is keeping up with me with a screaming Sam in his arms.

I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone is following us. One of the men we saw earlier exits through the backdoor, a gun in his hand. The cover of the woods is just a few yards. My pulse vibrates in my ears.

I know we can make it.  

Once we reach the trees, I hear the sound of a gunshot. "Shit! Shit!” Daryl shouts as his pace slows dramatically.

“Daryl, what are you doing? We need to keep running!” I scream as air gets caught in my lungs.

He shakes his head and picks up his pace again.

I don’t know how we do it, but we manage to run until we find a neighborhood of houses. I beg Daryl to stop. My legs are going to give out from under me. And Sam has been screaming the entire time we’ve been running. But Daryl won’t let us stop until we’re farther away. We end up slowing our pace because of all the stuff we’re carrying until we reach the fourth set of homes we’ve passed in the last two hours. We settle on a white two-story house at the very end of the block.

Using a rock, I break the glass next to the door and put my hand through the opening, unlocking the door. As soon as we’re inside, Daryl goes to the kitchen to tend to Sam. I begin searching the home, just to make sure there aren’t any walkers. I’m still trying to catch my breath.

There’s pictures on a few of the walls. An older couple used to live here with two children. I go upstairs and smell something awful. When I open a door leading to a large TV room, I find the older couple and their two children. The four of them lay with their backs slumped against the coffee table.

Each of them has a gunshot wound to the head.

I try to not remember what I just saw as I continue searching the rest of the house. I decide the second floor is clear and make my way back down stairs to the back yard. Luckily, this yard is fenced in too. I sit down on the small wooden porch and close my eyes. My adrenaline has completely worn off, allowing me to feel the bruises forming on my face. I try to breathe. I try to remind myself that for the most part I’m safe.

The backdoor opens and I look over my shoulder to see Daryl wearing a different shirt that’s too big for him.

“Macy, what the hell are you doing out here? I’ve been callin' your name for the past five minutes. Can you not hear me yellin’ for you?” he snaps.

“I didn’t he-“

“I thought something happened to you. I thought you disappeared, I don’t know. Just listen for me when I call you, all right?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

I try to stifle the smile appearing on my face.

“Why are you smilin’ like that?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Because you care,” I answer.

“Care about what?”

“Me,” I say.

It surprises me when he keeps looking at me even after a few seconds pass. “Why would you think I don’t care about you?”

“Number one: everything that happened back there was my fault. And number two: you consistently look at me like you hate me,” I reply as I turn around to face him.