When the dead rise to feast on the living, it becomes nearly impossible to keep yourself, and your family, safe from anything.
For Daryl Dixon, that statement couldn't have been more true. As the apocalypse turns the world into a cruel, cruel place...
The door was already thrown open when I reached Jessie's front porch, so I took the liberty of rushing straight inside in fear of her wellbeing.
When I stepped onto the wooden floors of the house, I saw what was going on, and my stomach twisted itself into a knot.
Vases and other glass assortments were smashed all across the floor, leaving dangerous shards scattered everywhere. In the corner where the entry hallway and the living room met, Jessie was cowering, with an angry Pete towering over here. He was calling her every foul name in the book, red in the face and sputtering with anger.
I knew it wasn't smart, but I had been in her place before, so I ran towards both of them and tried to pull Pete away from Jessie.
"Get away from her!" I yelled, grabbing Pete by the back of his shirt and throwing him off his wife. She had tears streaming down her face, and I realized, with horror that she had blood streaming from her nose; Pete had hit her.
"Jessie, go, get the kids out of here, now!" I told her, knowing she had two, younger kids in the house with her.
Before she could even make one move through, I felt a horrible, throbbing pain in the back of my head, and I stumbled forward. I clutched my head and spun around just in time to see Pete's fist coming at me, and I had just enough time to grab onto it and block his punch. He was extremely drunk, so his movements were slow and slurred.
With my hand stopping his punch, I reached out and kicked him in his gut, and he stumbled backwards several feet. Surprisingly, though, he didn't fall to the ground. Despite being hopelessly drunk, he was still fighting, even though he probably had no idea who he was throwing punches at, or even why.
I attempted to walk towards him again, aiming to just get him under control and away from Jessie, but he, apparently, had very different intentions.
I didn't see the black vase until it was soaring directly at my head. By the time I realized what was happening, it was already too late.
I heard the vase shatter against my skull, and I felt my body collide with the floor, but after that, there was nothing.
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The next thing I remember feeling was a cold hand lying atop my own. The realization that I was no longer lying on the ground was the next.
There was a soft cushioning beneath me, and suddenly, a clean, chemical-like smell infiltrated my nostrils. It overwhelmed me momentarily, and I scrunched up my face in disgust.
"Smells like... clean," I thought to myself, but apparently the words had come out verbally as well. For some reason, it was difficult for me to form correct sentences, and it felt like my mind was operating in slow motion.
