Torn Apart (A Daryl Dixon/ The Walking Dead Fanfiction)

Chapter 15

Cat's P.O.V

We pull up out front of the medical centre, cutting the engine to stop attracting walkers. We get out of the truck, grabbing our weapons. I slide the sword across my back and slip my knife in my belt. Daryl gestures for me to take the left and he take the right when we are inside. I nod and we walk forward.

I grab the knife from my waist and hold the handle of the door. I turn to Daryl and see him nod.

1 2 3... I yank the door open and ready myself for an attack but one doesn't come. I put the knife back in my belt and pull out my sword.

We walk forward into the centre, the foyer empty minus a few walkers. I take them out easily and move on. The sign above the hallway states where everything is, so we head off towards the medical supplies room. As we walk, Daryl takes out walkers effortlessly, as if he was born to do this. I chuckle at this thought and earn a questioning look from him. I shake my head and we continue on.

The room is at the end of the hall. I grab the flashlight out of my pocket and turn it on. I take ahold of the door handle and wait for his signal. He holds the crossbow into position and nods at me. I pull open the door and walkers spill out. Daryl takes down the first one, shooting it in the eye. I stab the next one in the head, it's blood spurting everywhere. Daryl takes on two more, leaving the last one for me. It's a fat male, with flesh peeled off its face. I gag at the creature and go to stab it but it grabs a hold of my wrist. I scream and kick it in the chest, pushing it back slightly. I pull my sword in front of me as it charges towards. It runs into my sword and collapses on top me my. It writhes and tries to bite my neck. I reach my hand to my waist and grab the knife, it slicing my belly as I snatch it. I thrust my hand forward and plunge it into the skull of the walker.

I let out a deep breathe and attempt to push the corpse off me, struggling under the weight. Daryl plunges an arrow through the walkers jaw, stabbing its brain. He pulls the arrow out and walks over to help me. He grabs a hold of its shirt and pulls it away as I push. It lands in a heap next to me. Daryl offers his hand for me to take, pulling me up so I'm on my feet.

"Wel' done." He smirks.

"You didn't do so bad yourself." I wink.

We begin to walk but the pain from my stomach stops me. I clutch at my stomach and take a deep breath through the pain.

"Cat, what is it?"

"It's nothing. I just cut myself grabbing my knife is all." I say.

He walks over and kneels in front of me. Moving my hands away he lifts the shirt up, uncovering my belly. He looks at the wound, prodding it, his rough hands on my skin. I suck in a breath at the contact, it sending tingles all over my body. I look down and see Daryl smirking at me.

"It's not deep. You'll be righ'." He says, standing up, my shirt falling into place.

"Thanks."

He bends down and grabs my knife and sword, passing them to me. I pick up his crossbow and the flashlight and give it to him. He walks forward, the light shining through the darkness and I shut the door behind us. We walk through slowly, making sure not to make any noise that could attract walkers. We walk and find that there are no more. In the distance, I see a small amount of light filtering through the gaps of the blind. I open the blind and light illuminates the room.

The place is trashed, broken glass and rubbish lay everywhere.

"So what are we looking for?" I say, examining what's left.

"Painkillers, antibiotics, bandages, etc. Anything we can use."

I nod and grab an empty crate and look for things. I find band aids, strapping tape, tampons, gauzes, the lot. I look intently for Maggie's request but struggle to see it. I open the cupboard and find random things but not what I need. I open the last cupboard and look in. Inside are boxes of condoms, lubricants, out of date prescriptions of birth control. I search harder and see what I'm looking for. I turn and see Daryl's back to me. I grab a few boxes and stuff them at the bottom of the crate.