ANGEL FACE ➵ DARYL DIXON [2]

Chapter Two: Country Club Shenanigans

Chapter 2

The morning has died, the sun high up in the sky as Fava pushes her way from the forest. And away from Daryl.

Being a teenager, especially in the apocalypse, she thinks she has everything together, protecting herself, and wanting to get some distance between. She does have high confidence, something Daryl is afraid of, it a recurring problem. So far, it is. And it's getting worse.

Fava tramples through, seeing a clearing and open land in front of her. She watches her foot placement, being careful if she gets caught in one of their own traps. How ironic would that be? But sure enough, she makes it, coming down a tiny slope and into a new world of free area and green, green grass.

A country club.

The black and white checkered flags are broken, snapped in half by god's knows what. She doesn't want to picture it, blood on the end of a sharp point; a weapon. A blue golf cart is on its side, wheels looted and scavenged by other survivors.

The place looks deserted, not even an animal in plain sight. The building is no more than one hundred metres away, the outside painting cream and cracked. The outside porch looks withered away, the windows shattered and a red wrench placed in the middle of the shards. Fava gulps, wondering if she should go inside.

"This place ain't it."

Fava turns around, seeing the redneck known as Daryl. He holds his crossbow close to his chest, a knife covered in blood, Fava knowing he got in a fight with the dead trying to keep up. Or the living.

She accidentally smiles, frowning insanely hard after that Daryl knew it was fake. She was trying to cover up, trying to act annoyed on how Daryl wouldn't leave her alone. When in reality she was glad. She has glad he was here.

"Golfers like to hit it up, right?" She asks clueless, Daryl shrugging his large shoulders.

"Why don't ya go an' check it out," Daryl grumbles, Fava freezing still at the use of ya meaning only her.

"You're coming too, yeah?" She asks, Daryl sighing, giving into the urgent plea he hears in her voice. He wasn't going to let her go in by her self in the fist place, just wanted a reaction.

Daryl nods. "I'm right behind ya."

Again, Fava smiles. This time not covering it up. They walk over the wide space, nearing the runned down country club. Birds call, flying in and out of a hole in the roof that's leaking down.

Fava holds her heart, climbing up the busted stairs that creak with every movement. The door is right in front of her waiting to be opened and explored, but she still waits for Daryl.

Daryl climbs up the stairs, noticing that Fava is standing beside the door. But not going in. He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head up.

"Why ain't ya goin' in?"

"I thought I would wait for you."

"Well, I'm 'ere."

Daryl gestures his hand to the door, Fava's eyes wide as she hears unpleasant sounds coming from within. She takes a step back, shaking her head.

"Thought ya could take care of yourself?" Daryl rebukes, proving his own point that she still needs him.

"I can," she quickly defends herself, getting out her knife, "I was just...testing you."

Daryl gives her a cold stare, Fava huffing as she slowly creaks open the door. She was about to take a step in, when Daryl jumps in front of her taking her by surprise. He raises his crossbow, keeping his eyes forward.