All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 30

I drive for a while, Daryl and Sam falling asleep forty-five minutes into our journey. Sam’s head rests on his father’s shoulder with his small lips slightly parted, drool sliding down the corner of his mouth.

I have no idea where I’m going. I see no signs for any refugee camps or anything close to that. I don’t see any signs at all. I even attempt to drive slow, looking into windows of any house or farm that I drive by, hoping to find a group of survivors.

It’s weird looking for people. Since the apocalypse started, I’ve mostly tried to avoid them at any cost. They can’t be trusted. They lie to you. Or they eat you. Or they hit you. Finding good people now is nearly impossible. It makes me wonder why I’m even trying. Does the human race deserve to be saved? I’ll probably get killed in the process. But then I think of Daryl and Sam, how I’d give anything to make their lives better. So I know I have to try. I have to die trying.

Returning my focus back to the road, I notice a prison. Dead walkers surround the fences. There’s crops and animals on the other side of the fence. I see smoke come from one of the back corners. I see people. More than I’ve seen in almost two years. I blink twice. Then a third time, just to make sure I’m really seeing this.

“Daryl.” I gently push his arm. “Daryl.”

His eyes flutter open. “What?”

“I think there’s people living in that prison.”

As he looks out the window, a man begins walking towards the crop fields. Even from this far away I instantly recognize him.

“Is that Rick?”

Daryl sits up, leaning closer to the passenger side window. “I’ll be damned. Stop the truck, we’re going in there.”

I pull over onto the side of the road. “What if that place isn’t safe?”

“Rick’s there. ‘Course it’s safe,” he replies, opening the car door.

I grab my backpack from the bed of the truck and follow closely behind Daryl. The wind rushes against my face. Sam insists on holding my hand while we walk to the prison, and I let him even though I don’t want to. My hand consumes his. I’m afraid I’ll let him fall while he stumbles beside me.

The air is drastically colder, a fateful reminder of winter. As soon as we’re in earshot Daryl yells Rick’s name.

He looks up from the garden he’s tending to, his eyes brightening when he sees us. Running towards us, he opens the gate once he reaches it, and immediately pulls Daryl into his embrace. His beard is thicker and the circles under his eyes are so dark they’re almost purple.

“Can’t believe you guys are here,” he says once his arms are around me.

He even picks up Sam, causing the two-year-old to giggle loudly.

“So what’s this prison here like?” Daryl asks as he starts making his way through the gates, his crossbow hanging over his shoulder.

“It’s the safest place we’ve been since everything happened,” Rick answers.

“How many?”

“There’s around thirty of us.”

Daryl offers a small smile. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Rick grins.

We follow him up the field, pass the gardens, and through the main gate. There’s people everywhere. I can’t remember the last time I was surrounded by this many living souls. Rick attempts to introduce us to everyone. Names blur through my ears. Faces blur through my vision. I see Carl, and his new baby sister. She wails when her eyes lock onto mine; I try not to take it personally.