Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

53: Thunderstorm

I stayed walking in the back of our group most of the time, so when I saw Rick and Michonne coming to a hesitant stop up ahead of us, I didn't know the reason at first. But, as I got closer, I was able to see the odd reason why we'd stopped.

There, in the middle of the road, was a large, untouched pack of water bottles. Attached to the top was a handwritten note, simply saying the words, "from a friend."

No one was making a move to drink from the bottles, and I didn't really see why. The pack was unopened, along with the bottles inside. To me, it looked safe.

I glanced over to my dad, and saw that he was staring at pack of water as if it had insulted him. He looked over to me after a minute, and I motioned with my eyes to the water.

He shook his head, and I narrowed my eyes. As if reading my mind, which was racing with the question of, "why not?" he pointed up to the sky.

I tilted my head up, and was immediately greeted by a raindrop falling into my eye. I squinted, wiping the drop away just as more began to pour down from the sky.

"How'd you know it was gonna do that?" I asked Dad over the sound of the harsh rain.

He shrugged, pushing some of his soaking wet bangs out of his eyes. "Been around awhile."

Then, the sound of rain was accompanied by that of thunder, and the darkening sky was lightened by flashes of deadly lightning. Judith began to wail out fright, and Carl brought her close to his chest and used his hat to shield her from the rain.

"Hey, Rick!" Dad called. "There's a barn over 'ere!"

That night, our group held up in a small barn, surrounded by secluded woods. There was nothing to do except sit around, considering the raging storm prevented us from going outside. The sound of the drops pelting against the tin roof was one that calmed me; I was used to the sound, considering Dad and Uncle Merle's old home had a tin roof.

Eventually, after just sitting around and doing nothing, I decided to try and get some rest. The lack of food was really beginning to take its tole on me; I could feel my ribs hurting as I lied down, and knew they were probably extremely visible from the outside. Although, I had a feeling that fact rang true for most of us at that time.

I tried to put my hunger out of my mind as I lied down on a bale of hay, using my hands to cushion my head. The hay was still getting stuck in my hair, though, and leaving tiny, yet still irritating, scratch marks on my cheeks.

Thankfully, I didn't have to deal with the uncomfortableness for too long, because before I knew it, I had passed out cold.

But, probably no more than a few minutes later, I was rudely awakened by an object hitting me in the forehead.

"Hello?" I called out dumbly, clutching my head as I shot up into a sitting position.

"Come help me, Sid!" I heard a voice hiss.

I opened my eyes quickly, squinting, and saw that it was Dad who'd thrown something at me, which had turned out to be a green apple. For some reason, he was pressing himself harshly against the barn door, which seemed to be on the verge of caving in.

Panicked, I sprung up from the ground, and ran over to the door. "Everyone, come on, wake up, we need your help!" I yelled as I placed my hands against the door and pushed as hard as I could.

My call woke up mostly everyone, and soon they all were there, pressing up against the barn door. I heard loud, grotesque groans from outside the barn, and knew that walkers were trying to get inside.

I can't tell you how long all of us stayed there, pressed up against that door, but what I can tell you is that it was daybreak before we were able to stop. What I thought happened was they were struck by lightning, because one moment, the walkers were there, pushing against us, then there was a huge flash outside the door, and all was still.

Slowly, we all began to retreat from the door, and go back to our resting places. I'm not ashamed to admit I was one of the first ones to leave, and return to the hay bale I'd been lying on. I was already exhausted before I spent hours forcing a door to remain closed, so right then, I was almost too weak to move.

I practically collapsed onto the hay bale, wanting to just sleep and not have to worry about anything else. Even though the hay was itchy, uncomfortable, and endlessly scratching me, it was about the best things were going to get, especially considering we were staying in a barn, of all places.

I curled my knees to my chest, since that was the only position where my feet weren't dangling off the bale, and closed my eyes. Just five minutes, just five minutes of rest was all I needed.

But, nope.

Someone laid a hand on my shoulder, and I made a face of irritation. Without opening my eyes, I grabbed whoever's hand it was and removed it from my shoulder. I was about to turn over and face the other direction, but then the hand was there again, and so was another one at my knees.

I made a noise of protest as someone picked me up against my will; why couldn't anybody just let me sleep?

I didn't bother to look and see who was carrying me; I just hoped they'd put me down soon. After they took a few steps, they sat down, and placed me beside them. I still didn't know who it was, but I didn't care; whoever they were, they were much more comfortable than a hay bale.

I draped an arm across the person's middle and let my head rest gently on their chest. As I brought my arm across, I felt what I recognized as dog tags hanging from the person's neck, and I smiled to myself.

Before I could tell my dad thank you, I had already fallen into a well-needed, much-deserved sleep.

A/N: Hope you guys are enjoying the story, and I hope it's not as bad as I think it is, haha.