Adapting (A Daryl Dixon/ The Walking Dead Fanfiction)

Chapter 6

Gemma's P.O.V
I slowly creep out of the truck's can, trying not to disturb Daryl who is asleep in the truck's bed. I grab the knife from the dash board and head towards Carol's Cherokee. Rick's family plus Carol and Sophia sleep inside and I quietly pull down the back window to access the food and water. I grab a couple of water bottles and a couple tins of food. I quietly shut the window and walk softly along the road towards the highway.

It's been a week since the CDC, since Jacqui and my father's deaths. I refused to get involved with the group and mostly stayed in the truck all day, becoming a burden to everyone. As I was laying there earlier, I decided that it wouldn't be fair for me to burden them further, plus I don't really like being here.

It's dark out, probably around two in the morning. The moonlight gives me enough light to travel down the road and keep an eye out for walkers. The stars shine brightly in the Georgian sky and are something to look at beside the road. I've been on the road for about an hour and I haven't come across any sign of a creature, or a walker as the group would call it. I've never had to kill one but I've dealt with worse in my path, besides dad told me how to kill them.

I know that prolonging death is stupid, because eventually we will all turn into a walker no matter what. That was one of the first things my father discovered when the disease broke out, whoever died of natural cause became one of them. That's when mom called and told me to get immediately to the CDC, that was the day she died.

I hear the sound of a twig snapping and I turn to look for any threat. The trees to the side rustle and I walk closer, gripping the knife tightly in my hand as I approach. The bushes continues to rustle until a figure steps out, nothing like a walker. The person steps into daylight and I sigh in frustration.

Daryl walks onto the road and stops in front of me, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I was trying to leave, but I guess that wasn't obvious was it." I say sarcastically.

"Why? Especially in the middle of the night when your pampered ass hasn't even killed a walker." He spits.

"First of all, don't think about my ass. Second my ass ain't pampered and third I know how to kill a walker. I'm not stupid." I say.

"Sure could have fooled me." He says.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, yer a dumb bitch for leaving the group at all let alone in the middle of the night. You won't last five minutes alone." He says.

"So far I've lasted an hour and I'm fine." I say.

"Whatever, you're coming back to camp." He says, turning away.

I stand where I am with my arms crossed and my hip out, glaring at his retreating body. He stops after awhile, realising I'm not following him.

"Get your ass movin'! It's dangerous!" He whisper shouts.

"No."

"Dammit Gemma, I swear-"

"I'm not your problem. I'm no ones problem. I'm nothing but a burden on the group and you'll all be better off without me." I say.

He throws his crossbow over his neck and walks up to me, easily throwing me over his shoulder.

"Daryl, put me down!" I yell.

"Keep it down! Do you want every walker in Georgia to hear you?!" He whisper yells.

"You put me down right now Daryl or I swear to God-"

"What? What are you going to do?" He taunts.

I know my legs are hanging across his torso and if I pull my leg back hard enough, I can land a pretty good kick. I take the risk and kick him hard, earning a loud grunt from him. He drops to his knees and I wriggle out of his grasp, taking a step back.