When the dead rise to feast on the living, it becomes nearly impossible to keep yourself, and your family, safe from anything.
For Daryl Dixon, that statement couldn't have been more true. As the apocalypse turns the world into a cruel, cruel place...
"Hey," said an unfamiliar voice from my doorway. I looked up from where I had been packing my bag, and saw a timid-looking Alex simpering down at me. I was subtly surprised, considering I hadn't heard him speak since he'd been at the prison. "I'm, uh...I'm sorry, about your uncle."
The events of yesterday, still fresh on my mind, had affected everyone in the prison, even if Merle wasn't particularly favored by many people. But, the fact that he went out doing something right, doing something to help us, made up for a lot of other things.
I attempted to smile at Alex, and nodded my head. "Yeah.. I am, too... Thanks, Alex."
He cleared his throat, reaching up and slightly adjusting the toboggan on his head. "Yeah, um, no problem." He gave me a short smile before turning, and taking a step away from the cell. Before he could get much further, I stopped him.
"You don't like to talk much, do you?" I asked, curiosity in my voice.
He paused, and turned back to look at me. Silently, he shook his head. "Just... I'm shy, with new people... or, people in generally, really."
I nodded in understanding, and gave him a smile. "I get it. But, everyone here is nice; you'll feel like one of us soon enough."
His mouth twitched up in a small smile as he gave me a nod, a silent thank you.
I held eye contact with him for a moment longer before I slung my bag over my shoulder, and walked towards the door. "We better get going; we gotta get to the woods before the Governor shows up," I told Alex, him nodding to me in return.
Our plan, as it were then, was to make it seem like we had fled the prison, but in reality, we were just lying in wait for the Governor to arrive. While Rick, Dad, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, and Ben were waiting to ambush the Governor inside the prison, Hershel, Beth, Judith, Carl, Alex, Lea, and myself would wait on the outskirts of the woods, taking care of any stray soldiers who happened to wander in our direction. In my opinion, I thought Carl and I should be helping on the inside, but I knew better than to argue with my dad, especially after the previous day's events.
As I was walking down to the woods with everyone else, I stopped by my dad to tell him goodbye, and to be extremely careful. But, before I did that, something else caught my attention, and I smiled.
"Are those his?" I asked, pointing to the new assortment of faded strings wrapped around his left wrist. He looked down at the accessory, smiled sadly for a moment, then looked back to me.
"Yeah, those're his," he said, nodding. Then, he reached into his left pocket, and pulled out what seemed to be a silver necklace. On closer inspection, I realized that they were dog tags. "These're his, too... but now they're yours."
He outstretched his hand, and I did the same, carefully allowing him to drop the tags into my hand. I flipped them over to look at them, and they read, from top to bottom, Dixon, Merle J. 224387961, U.S Marine Corps., A Pos, No Preference.
"Dad... don't you want to keep these?" I asked him, my voice full of empathy.
Then, without a word, Dad reached into the front of his shirt, and pulled out the set of dog tags he was already wearing. I could see that they, also, were Uncle Merle's.
I beamed up at him, and without a moment's hesitation, I slipped the tags around my neck.
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