Goodbye Miranda

Miranda attempted to wipe the sweat from her eyes, but only succeeded in further blurring her vision with blood. She could smell the heavy, wet scent of it, taste the copper weight of it in the air. If the fever didn't kill her soon, the blood loss would.

Night crept through the forest to trail behind her as she continued to push Flame toward home. The walkers seemed uninterested in her progress and for a brief time she blessed the rotting stench of the bite high on her thigh and its ability to convince the others she was one of them.

Each of Flame's careful steps brought her closer to the end. She prayed Daryl would not be the one to find her, but she knew the tenacious man wouldn't let her go or let others search for her without him. He was likely already looking for her.

The trees gave way to the clearing surrounding the prison and Miranda pulled up on the reins. She slid from the horse's back, grimacing and stifling a cry of pain when her feet hit the ground.

"Be good now, boy, and go home," she said, patting the horse and pushing him toward the prison. Flame nudged her with his nose, but wouldn't leave her.

"Go on, now," Miranda said, backing into the woods. "Get on home."

Flame followed Miranda into the woods despite her weakening protests. When waves of dizziness overwhelmed her, Miranda stopped trying to push the horse away and clung to his neck instead.

"I guess this is it, my friend," she murmured as she slid to her knees in the brush at the edge of the trail Daryl often used for hunting. The familiarity of her surroundings comforted her as the darkness deeper than the night swelled and drowned her senses in its silent depths. Miranda closed her eyes and whispered, "I love you," to the darkness.

The shuffling steps and sharp voices in the forest jerked Miranda from a dream that left her gasping. She'd been reaching for Daryl, leaning in for a kiss, when she'd bitten him instead. Flesh had torn beneath her teeth and the rush of hot blood into her mouth had been deeply fulfilling. Her heart continued to thump thickly. Her eyes burned with the effort to see in the dim light. She heard a low, plaintive moan join the voices coming from the direction of the prison, but couldn't place its source.

Daryl broke through the tree line. He called out and another voice admonished him to keep quiet. Walkers would come to the noise. Miranda reached for Daryl, but couldn't get her legs under her to follow him when he turned and made his way back through the trees and disappeared into the darkness. The silence of the night flowed in behind him and Miranda struggled for several more minutes before finally gaining her feet.

Something heavy and wet slapped against her legs as she struggled to follow Daryl, but the darkness hid the details from her overtired brain. She concentrated on picking up one foot and putting it down before attempting to move the other.

The slow, arduous process consumed her thoughts, her very existence. When tiny details attempted to break through, Miranda shoved them away. What difference did it make if she knew what lay against her legs as she stood and caught her breath at the edge of the woods? Did it matter why the walkers were ignoring her? Would it change her path if she knew the source of the quiet moans which followed her labored steps?

The sun was long up and reaching its zenith when Miranda joined the throng of walkers at the fence. She'd seen Daryl walking along the fence line, a crowbar in his hands. Her only thought was to reach him, to catch his attention so he could let her in and Hershel could fix the damage the walker had done on her ride. Miranda shouldered her way into the throng of walkers gathered at the fence, reaching for the diamonds of steel and threading her fingers into them.

Daryl glanced at her and kept walking. His face contorted briefly before he regained his composure. Miranda followed him. Her throat worked and she tried to call his name, but all she could hear was the same pitiful moaning that had followed her through the night. Carol joined Daryl at the fence and the two argued while Miranda watched. She'd never seen Daryl so angry or out of control and fear for Carol's safety made Miranda pull against the fence as she attempted to get Daryl's attention. Daryl's eyes flicked toward her, and then he turned away and lowered the crowbar.

More and more people joined Daryl by the fence. Rick's mournful eyes met hers briefly before skittering away as though to meet her gaze brought him pain. Michone stared into her eyes for several moments before blinking hard and turning away.

Miranda tried again and again to speak, to explain to Daryl that she was there and needed help, but no sound would come. Only the moans she'd traveled with from the woods. She glanced around her, saw the hands of the walkers where they twined in the fence as hers did, heard their moans, so like those which had come with her from the forest. For the first time since she'd awakened in the woods, Miranda looked down at her own body and saw the trailing intestines which had made her walk to the fence so difficult. Understanding fell over her in a chilling splash. She reached for Daryl once more, this time silently begging him to end this, to take whatever was left of her life before she harmed someone else. He seemed to hear her plea.

Daryl shook his head, tears standing in his eyes. He stepped close to the fence and raised the crowbar.

"I love you, Miri-Bear."

Miranda closed her eyes.