Daryl's Angel (Book One in the Apocalypse Angel Trilogy)

Chapter 66: Promises and Dreams

Hope's POV

I wake up late. The sun is already high in the sky, and I stretch, trying to get the feeling of the rough bark of the tree from my back.

I had dreamt about him; reliving the best moments we had spent together from the first time we met with him coming out of the forest, angry about the walker eating his deer, to the last "I love you" at the prison.

The last "I love you", the one I didn't have the chance to return before he was torn from my grasp.

He has to be alive, and so does everyone else. There's no way that everyone died. Rick, Carl, Maggie, Glenn, all of them. They have to have made it.

Maybe it's stupid of me to hold on to this faint hope, but hey, I'm my group's Cherokee Rose.

I jump down from the tree and take off in a sprint. I head back to the road and jog down it until I find a run down neighbourhood. I pull out my handgun and check the ammo. It's full, and when I check my rifle, it's only got one round left. I sigh and walk up to the first house. I kick in the door, stabbing one walker immediately. It falls over and I shove it to the side. I search the rest of the house, and no more walkers are found. I grab a backpack from upstairs, and I head down into the kitchen, opening cabinets and looking for food.

In one of them, I find some soup cans. I grab them, tossing them into my bag and searching the rest of the cupboards. I got lucky. This house hadn't been completely raided yet. I find bottled water and lots of canned goods. I take enough food to last me a while, plus a box of matches.

I exit the house, shouldering the bag and looking around. There aren't any walkers that I can see, which is good. I run down the steps and down the road, thinking of hitting a few more houses.

I go to another house a little ways up the street and kick the door in. I clear the place, killing more walkers. I go upstairs, finding the master bedroom. I open the closet inside carefully. Nothing jumps out at me, and I scan the clothes inside. All the clothes I have are the ones I'm wearing, which consist of my black tank top, ripped jeans, and boots. I lost my leather jacket when we left the farm way back, but I had been fine without it.

I take some of the jeans inside the closet, trying them on. They fit nicely. I search the rest of the closet, looking for shirts. I find a simple black v-neck t-shirt with no writing on it, plus a few other items. I place them in my bag, along with the two pairs of jeans.

I know clothes aren't exactly a huge necessity in a zombie apocalypse, but I feel that it'd be nice to have something clean to change into.

I walk down the stairs, checking the kitchen, but not finding any food, save a few cans of dog food. I close the front door and push a couch up against it, lying down.

I should keep moving, because the longer I busy myself with other things, the less my mind will be occupied with my missing family, but I'm so tired that I can't keep going, so I let myself lie on the couch.

Tears leak from my eyes and I wipe them away. No matter what I do, my mind immediately moves to thoughts of Daryl. I don't want to seem selfish, I do care about the others in my group, but I can't help that Daryl is the first person on my mind.

Every time I think of them, my heart aches more and more.

If Daryl's alive, is he looking for me? Does he even believe that I'm alive? I wish I had his tracking skills, so I could at least try to find them. I can't even hunt.

His sparkling blue eyes stay embedded in my mind, never leaving.

I get up off the couch, throwing open the door. I sprint back to the road, my boots churning up dust as the sun starts to set.