When the dead roam - (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 16 - Do it

Lou grabbed the bars of the confinement gates and pulled it across until the cold metal connected with the man-made walls. Normally the laughter of children would drown out the clanging of the metal but the streets of Alexandria appeared completely bare. There were no laughing children. No parents yelling to them for misbehaving or to collect their dinner. They had become accustomed to the perfect false life, but as the three stood there at the entrance to their sanctuary they realized the deafening silence was something of a nightmare.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Lou whispered to Daryl, who placed a finger on his lips to hush her and pointed his crossbow in the direction of the dimly lit house situated on their left.

"Keep quiet" he stated as he pressed his back firmly against the cobbled wall and pressed his weapon against his chest. Lou positioned herself next to him, her knife in one hand and the grey pistol in the other. She could feel her finger shaking as it hovered over the trigger, her soft skin brushing across the texture rubber support as she did so. Her breathing remained surprisingly steady, despite the knowledge that her aim was incredibly dreadful.

"You ready?" she mouthed to Daryl, insuring she remained quiet as they listened to the raised voices that had now became apparent to them. He slowly nodded at her and held up three fingers.

"How many of you do I have to kill to save your lives?"

Two fingers.

"You're not ready - but you have to be"

One finger.

"Luck runs out"

She twisted around the corner, her weapon outstretched in front of her as she stared back at the multiple sets of eyes that were now on her. Every adult of their community stood around a decaying body at Rick's feet. Fear masked every face.

"You - you're not one of us!" a voice screamed from in front of her, his forefinger pointed accusingly a the police officer.

"You don't wanna do this Pete" she said, as sense of urgency in her voice as she held both hands out in the air, her palms directed towards the panicking male "Put the knife down"

"Get the hell away from me!"

Daryl gripped the sleeve of her jacket in an attempt to stop her from approaching the dangerous figure. Quickly she turned to face him, placing her trembling hand on his and lifting it from her body. A small encouraging smile appeared on her lips as she silently begged him to release her. Reluctantly he let go. The unknown desire to protect her burned within him and no matter how much he protested she knew she could take care of herself.

"Pete - Just stop. You need to calm down" she instructed, stepping closer to the middle-aged gentleman. Deanna's husband took a step from the other direction, leaving his wife in a panic and blocking the armed man between himself and Lou. "Come on Pete - put the weapon down"

"Get away from me!" he screamed in retaliation. His right fist was clenched at his side whilst his left waved the sharp knife in her direction, narrowly missing her jugular.

"You need to calm down Pete"

"I said back away Reg!" he screamed, now directing the metal blade towards his friend "No! Don't touch me!"

"Pete - it doesn't have to be like this" Reg insisted, encouraging the tip of the knife to be turned to the floor.

Lou knew she didn't have a choice. She needed to act fast and she needed to act now, so she lunged forward and gripped the handle of the hunting knife. Sharply the weapon was aimed towards her chest, pressing sharply between her breasts as she fort to disarm Pete. The tip of the knife tore through the material of her shirt, slightly scraping her skin as she was overpowered by the male. Her right hand found the cool metal and grasped it, blood trickling from her palm as she pushed it away from herself.

"Pete!" Reg said as he placed a hand on his shoulder, only for the weapon to change direction and slice through his throat. Blood poured from the incision, Splattering across his face as it emptied from his body. With each drop she saw the life drain from him. Even in this world, she had never seen someone die. The last goodbye to her own daughter was made to a wooden cross and a small empty grave, yet as she watched him die she couldn't help but familiarize herself with the feeling.

Deanna held his frail body in her arms, tears falling down her cheeks as she caressed his crimson soaked face. "No - my baby - no"

Lou gripped the arms of his murderer, forcing him to the floor and pressing her knee firmly to his back. "You son of a bitch"

"Rick-" Deanna yelled as her head snapped towards the police officer "Do it"

Rick raised his arm. He pointed his gun towards the restrained male beneath Lou and with anger in his eyes, pulled the trigger.