Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

The Day that Changed Everything

I blew a strand of hair out of my face, looking through the scope on my rifle.  The herd in the valley below was easily 300 strong which was a slight increase from a few days ago, but that wasn't our biggest problem.  The worst case scenario was if the herd migrated East, putting us and Hilltop directly in their path.

"What the hell?"

I adjusted the scope, tracking a couple of walkers that were sticking to the outskirts of the herd.  Three of them stopped momentarily and appeared to survey their surroundings before dropping their gaze back to their feet.  They shuffled along with the herd for roughly 50 additional feet before breaking away, veering hard to the right with fluid, almost graceful movements.  They hesitated briefly, the one in the back glancing over his shoulder at the remaining herd like he was making sure they didn't notice their departure.  The mindless walkers continued to trudge forward, oblivious to the three that were making a beeline for the woods.  I watched the trio until they disappeared into the foliage, an uneasy feeling brewing in my gut I couldn't put my finger on.

Biting my lip I scanned the herd, looking for anymore "odd" behavior, but found nothing amiss.  From the look of things we were going to catch a break with this herd.  The walkers were turning West, taking the dead away from us.  Packing up my gear I swung my pack on my shoulders, standing up and frowning down at the herd.  From this distance they looked like a black blob slowly but surely moving away from us, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off or more accurately, something was coming. 

I'd never seen walkers break away from a pack unless they were chasing food.  I'd also never seen them stop and look around, almost like they were assessing their surroundings. 

Well, that wasn't entirely true. 

I'd seen walkers act intelligent and coherent once before.  Problem was my brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders that day so it was difficult to trust my memories.

Exhaling harshly, I turned my back on the herd, quickly making my way down the hill.  The sun was dipping low in the sky and I still had a good hour hike back to camp.  If I didn't make it before sunset Legolas would have a hissy fit. 

It'd been roughly six weeks since we left Hilltop.  Our dingy camp originally comprised of nothing but sleeping bags and a few measly packs was now a home.  We had a shelter that did a better than average job of keeping out the rain and cold, a steady supply of food and water, and a reliable security system against the dead and the living.

The change in our camp wasn't the only transformation.  My husband was like a caterpillar that had become a beautiful butterfly.  Well, at least a less surely butterfly.  The point was he was a different person out here in the wilderness. 

The ever-present tension he carried with him 24/7 melted away like early morning dew.  He was truly in his element, hunting and providing, living off the land with nothing more than his wits and ingenuity.  For the first time since I met him he slept soundly through the night, his large, warm body curled protectively around mine.  He was happy.  We both were.  It was the first time we'd ever been alone, just the two of us, in a setting that wasn't inspired by a tragedy or the result of a life and death scenario.  It was almost boring, and it was wonderful.

We still made frequent trips to Hilltop, Alexandria, and even the newly rebuilt Kingdom.  We'd yet to venture to The Sanctuary, but thankfully crossed paths with Carl more often than not at Hilltop, when he wasn't sucking face with his girlfriend.  Our absence seemed to make every visit that much more precious, everyone smiled and laughed like we hadn't been fighting for our lives for close to two years.  In the back of my head I knew this wouldn't last.  We couldn't possibly stay here, tucked away from the world, forever.  Sooner or later the other shoe was going to drop.