18: surgery has put me off my lunch

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"Hope is the only thing stronger than fear." - Suzanne Collins

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They continued to track the little girl through the woodland for a while

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They continued to track the little girl through the woodland for a while. Merle was proving to be more of a hindrance than a help as he insisted on huffing angrily at ten second intervals, ensuring that the two ahead of him knew just how pissed he was at Shane.

After three minutes of constant sighing from behind them, Daryl turned on his heel to face his brother, stopping him in his tracks, "Merle, can ya go back to camp?"

"What? Why? So ya can have sum time 'alone'?" The smirk on his face told Erin he thought he was being really smooth as he made air quotes around the word. Daryl's expression, however, barely faltered as he stared blankly at Merle, "Alright, I'll go. Didn't know ya were into Asians..."

Erin could've punched him for even insinuating the idea, but Merle moved away too fast, disappearing through the trees and heading back to the trucks where he would no doubt attack Shane again. "Ugh..." she breathed, huffing once he was out of earshot, "Your brother... Let's just say you're lucky I didn't murder him on the way here..."

"Yeah," Daryl muttered, finding the trail again and beginning to walk ahead, "He can be like that..."

She reckoned that was the understatement of the entire apocalypse, but at least with Merle gone they could focus on finding Sophia and bringing her safely back to her mother. Her footsteps fell in sync with his as they walked, in unspoken agreement that he would keep an eye out for signs of the girl while she watched their surroundings for assailants, knives still clutched readily in her hands.

He lapsed into silence, only speaking up again as the trail began to go cold, "I'm losin' it. Dunno where she went from here-"

Erin's ears picked up a quiet groan half-way through what he was saying and she held up a hand to silence him, ignoring the indignant look he gave her in return, "Shh..." She glanced back around, seeing the trees shift in front of them.

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Daryl's eyes scanned across the undergrowth to where she was looking, widening as he saw a particularly gruesome looking walker step through the bushes, moaning loudly as its head lolled around to look at them. Its skin was sunken, hanging droopily from its skull with nothing really keeping it from falling off other than its crooked nose. An eye was missing but, after glancing at its chest, Daryl discovered it had simply fallen into the top pocket of the flannel shirt that had become its death suit.

He barely flinched as it threw itself towards them, meeting the pointed end of his arrow seconds after he'd let it fly. Erin looked up at him, an impressed smile on her lips, "Not bad..."

Daryl knew it was an amazing shot, but for some reason her half-hearted compliment hurt him... He shrugged off the feeling, noting that the knives in her grasp had barely moved to tackle the creature, "Had to be. Ya didn't make any effort to stop it..."

"Perhaps I was testing your reflexes," she countered as he raised an eyebrow, the action obscured by his sweat-drenched hair as he silently made his way to the fallen body. He sensed her moving behind him, but didn't turn to look. If he did, there was no doubt in his mind that she'd conclude he was watching out for her which he definitely wasn't - more like he was interested to see what she'd do next.

She was the only woman he'd ever seen Merle feel guilty about; though he hadn't said anything, Daryl knew his brother well enough to see the worry in his eyes after he'd hit her. He had no clue what had happened between them on the journey from Atlanta, but his brother seemed to have a weird respect for this chick and if Merle respected someone, that person probably deserved to be respected. Unless it was a drug dealer...

Now, he wasn't going to confront either of them about it - he wouldn't be able to find the right words if he tried - but Daryl resolved in his head that he would watch this woman carefully, try to figure out what was so special about her. He'd been reasonably taken aback by the quality of her tracking skills, he'd dare to say they could possibly trump Merle's if pitted against each other. She seemed at home in the wilderness, nature making her smarter and more aware of her surroundings than she had been sat atop the truck.

He pulled a knife from his belt, examining the walker's fingers and finding the one thing he'd hoped not to discover beneath its nails.

Skin.

Whether it was human, he couldn't be sure. He knew there was only one way to make certain as he brought the tip of his blade to the manky flesh of its torso.

Just as he was about to press down, he saw a glinting movement out of the corner of his eye and swiped the knife up in defence. Looking up, squinting due to the sun blazing through the tree canopy, he quickly realised it was only Erin, "Don't do that. I coulda stabbed ya..."

"Sorry," she replied nonchalantly as he noticed the small hunting knife laid out on her open palm, "Thought this might do a cleaner job. Mine's sharper."

He looked down at his own knife, frowning in annoyance as he saw she was right. Her blade looked better kept than his for one thing, having been stored safely inside her army jacket rather than finding its home tucked beneath his worn out belt. Begrudgingly, he returned his knife to where he'd taken it from, taking the offered one with a grunt of what he intended as thanks.

Hunching back over the corpse, he resumed cutting it open, feeling Erin kneel beside him and sighing, "Ya might not wanna see this. It's gonna get bloody..." He heard her clear her throat and could almost feel the offended glare burning into the side of his head, "Fine... Don't throw up on me."

"Just get on with it. I'm fine," she assured him, annoyance clear in her tone.

Shrugging, Daryl sliced down into the skin, hitting the creature's stomach in the first cut and waiting to hear retching from behind him, but the sound never came. Didn't mean she wouldn't hurl when she saw its contents, though. He separated the layers of flesh and muscle around the organ with the blade, thankful that the walker was in relatively good shape so he didn't have to delve through too much fat.

To his surprise, Erin shifted around to the other side of the corpse, not to throw up as he'd expected when he felt her move from beside him, but to hold back the gory bits as he opened up the stomach. Perhaps Merle was right to respect her; this girl had guts as clear as the ones currently coating his hands. If he'd brought Andrea or Lori along, they would have called it quits as soon as they saw the blood.

"Bastard had himself a woodchuck..." he sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance, but he had to be sure the kid hadn't been eaten by this thing. It settled his conscience slightly to see the mangled remains of a small animal inside its stomach, "At least we know..."

"At least we know..." Erin echoed as she wiped her forehead on her sleeve, accidentally catching her cheek with a bloody hand and leaving a streak of red running down it, "I really thought we were gonna find a mess of bones in there..."

Daryl saw the look of guilt still prominent in her gaze as she looked down at the gory heap of walker guts on the ground between them, getting the feeling she still felt responsible for Sophia's disappearance. He straightened up, rolling the corpse over with the toe of his boot and hearing the squelch of its insides as it hit the soil. He wiped his hands on his jeans, tinting the dirty blue of the denim red with blood.

"S'not your fault... Coulda been anyone..." he attempted to reassure her as she stood a few feet in front of him, her brown eyes a warzone of worry and turmoil.

"Yeah... I doubt anyone else will think that..."

Perfect Storm || Daryl DixonWhere stories live. Discover now