Georgian Redneck

Chapter 7- Snap Out Of It

"I think some people should go on a run. We're running out of supplies and we can't rely on Daryl's squirells forever" I speak up somewhat shyly, diverting everyone's attention from food right to me. What? It needed to be said. I mean, I'm not going starve just because of my mild anxiety!

The warm, orange fire warms my skin as I sit in the dirty ground because I refused a proper seat, letting the poor old man Dale take it. He would probably break his back if he tried sitting down on the ground. Droplets of sweat roll down my back, making it all sticky. A fire in the middle of the day is a brilliant idea, isn't it? Especially since it's summer in Georgia. Yeah.

"Any volunteers?" Rick asks between chewing pieces of Daryls squirell from today's early hunt. Glenn would usualy go, but since he can't, I'm probably the next one up. As much as I don't like it... But I guess I can prove my worth to the group this way.

"I'll go" I roll my eyes and stand up, smoothing my Metallica shirt down so it looks decent enough and brush the dirt off my jeans. It stinks of sweat and walker guts since I don't exactly have a replacement. But whatever. I'm kind of used to it now.

"You can't go alone" Rick argues and makes eye contact with Daryl. Last thing I want is to go into town alone. No. Way. But bringing someone along with me... Not so sure about that. Especially Daryl. He seems to be with me more than I'd like. But at least I get a view of his toned arms. Screw the whole idea of keeping my distance. It obviously won't work. Plus, I like the challenge of trying to crack him open like a coconut.

"Let's go" I whisper and secure the machete in my belt. Not too keen on dying from a fucking walker bite, as I mentioned before. Daryl jogs over to me, crossbow slung over his back and grunts. Guess he doesn't want to go either. He gets onto his motorbike and motions for me to hop on behind him.

Really? Umm... On one hand, in scared of making any kind of physical contact with him because, as I said, I've not had much of it lately and it has weird effects on me. On the other hand, there's no way in hell I'll ever decline a ride on a motorbike.

I climb on behind the big Daryl himself and the motorbike roars to life, bringing my soul to life along with it.

This may seem weird but one of the things on my bucket list was to ride a motorcycle at least once in my life. Yes, I used to have a list of things I wanted to do before I die. And now the time is limited. But at least one thing has been achieved. Things such as 'meet Ben Bruce' or 'visit Canada' are obviously out of the question now.

We rode the machine for an hour or so, passing fields upon fields upon fields of sunflowers until we came to a stop. We stop in front of a plain white pharmacy store which looks to be empty. Daryl gets off the bike and I follow suit, although not as gracefully. I stumble over my feet and he has to catch my arm so I don't fall, making me feel horrendously. He perches the bike against the crinkled wall of the shop.

Any sane person would loot a shop for supplies. Literally. Supplies are the most important thing thing in this world. That and the ability to protect yourself. But when all hell broke loose, I didn't have time to loot any shops, only what I had in my apartment. That's a story for another time though.

I walk in quietly, deadly machete in my right hand and scan the surroundings. Shelves full of medication look untouched, almost normal. As if the horrors outside haven't touched this place even a little. It's also exceptionally clean.

I hit the shelf, creating an echoing noise to see if there are any walkers nearby. Did I mention that the fuckers like noise? Yeah, I think I did. After a few seconds, nothing happens. As I thought, empty. Well, let's get to work.

I scan through the shelfs for anything that would be useful, getting momentarily confused by some of the medical names of some drugs and painkillers I don't recognise and haven't read about. I throw everything I find useful into a little red basket next to me.

"Ya ready?" Daryl calls from the front of the shop, startling me a bit. He's got the tendencies to do that. Scare others. I grab the last five packets of tampons and rush out of the shop. These are even more rare than gas nowadays. So far I've got different types of medicine, bandages, plasters, female hygiene stuff and many more things. I guess you could say we've hit a gold mine.

I look around the walker-free street and drop the basket full of stuff I collected, probably breaking something in the process. Holy Shit. My eyes start to water and my hands start to shake. Fuck. Me. I squeal in delight and run forward, launching myself onto the roof of the black car, landing with a thud. Baby I'm here. Maybe I dented the metal by landing on it, but I can check later.

"The fuck woman?" Daryl shouts, running towards me. I hop off the car and smile at him excitedly, jumping up and down like a little kid on Christmas. "Can we keep it? Please? Can we? Can we? Can we?" he looks at the car next to me skeptically and raises his eyebrow. He can't deny that he likes this car. It's vintage.

"Ya don' even know what make it is" he grumbles and opens the black door of the beautiful car, sitting in it and turning the keys in the ignition. Surprise the keys are there. The car roars to life and the sound soothes my cold heart. Doesn't he learn? I know my shit.

"1967 Chevy Impala. I want it. Hell, I need it! It's got a full fucking tank of fuel Daryl!" I moan and run towards the red baskets with medical supplies, picking them up hastily and sprinting back towards the incredible car. This must be the best thing that's happened to me since the appocalypse. Well, best thing that's happened to me ever! Okay, maybe not. Meeting the group during this apocalypse is the best, I guess. But this is a close second.

I put the baskets onto the back seats of the Impala and slide into the drivers seat as soon as Daryl stands up, closing the door delicately behind me. This is gonna be one hell of a ride. And he's not going to say shit about me taking this baby with me.

(A/N) Hey! Thanks for reading my story! I really appreciate it! And also thanks for voting guys! The car in the picture is a 1967 Chevy Impala(Supernatural refference) and I'm obsessed with the car, so I though why not include it! Thanks for reading and enjoy!