Home Is Your Heartbeat ('Home Is' Book Two - Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 7 - Thats When I Think Of You (1927)

NATE

'So what the fuck was good about that day, you absolute Derpa?'  I hear you all ask in stunned horror.

You were almost raped and killed for fucks sake!

***

The realisation of the good came when I carefully sat up on the bed about half an hour later.

I'd been replaying the events on an endless slow-motion loop in my brain. And I can tell you folks....it wasn't  a cathartic exercise.

But on the final rerun....the last bit that was eluding me finally clicked. I recognised the arrow and would recognise it anywhere.

It was my Daryl's.  One of his hand-carved jobs with the special turkey feather fletching.

Daryl had been in this house, eaten some food from the cupboard....maybe even slept in this very bed. Only a day or so ago? Not much more going by the condition of the food remnants left in his discarded jars.

The old bod was ahead of my brain, and before I could order it to stop? It tried to smile and laugh. But ended up doubled over in pain and whimpering instead.

My man is alive....I knew it! Love it when I'm right!

Oh fuck....my ribs....my wrist....my everything  😬

Reached over to my bag and retrieved the slip of card that I brought with me. It's a photo. Glenn had found one of those Polaroid instant cameras and one day, took a couple of happy snaps of us.

I have one and so does Daryl.

In mine, he's sitting behind me on one of the tables. I'm kneeling on the seat between his legs with his arms wrapped around me....hands clasping my bottom. My head is resting on his chest while I peer up at him goofily.

Daryl is gazing directly at the camera with that gorgeous, smug little smile of his.

Glenn caught him at the  most perfect of moments.

Looking at it made my heart flip over in lazy somersaults. I gave it a gentle kiss and put it safely back in its plastic covering.

He's alive!

Just having that one photo? Made my prison stalk through the walkers and up to our home, covered head to toe in goo....all the more worthwhile.

Getting up from the bed I carefully reached back to cover bubby up.

Hopefully, she'll stay asleep until I've prepped us to leave? No way we can stay here tonight! Couldn't take the risk in case any of Psycho Cop's buddies turned up to look for him.

As I stood up and moved the quilt....I saw splodges of blood. When I risked a look down at my thighs I realised where they'd come from.

And my head went into a red rage again.

I used that fury and the adrenaline accompanying it while I carefully cleaned myself up. Got dressed, avoiding any mirrors.

Time enough for that later.

Then I moved painfully from room to room, packing things up and ferrying them out to my Jeep. Pausing every now and then to land a wobbly kick on that bastard's corpse.

Once that was done, I drove over to the vehicle and siphoned the gas from his tank to mine. Then parked as close as I could get to the porch steps.

Picked Juju up and gently nestled her in the passenger footwell, swaddled in blankets. I was just about to climb in myself when I heard a whine again.