~Rebel's POV~
The rest of the ride, I was rigid and stiff, only moving to grip tighter to Daryl. The whole time we were on the damned thing, the scene kept replaying through my mind. My heart was on the brink of bursting and subconsciously I reached up to toy with the ring that hung on the silver chain.
We rounded a sharp turn and I sucked in a breath, wrapping my arm back around Daryl's torso, squeezing tighter than necessary. By this time, we were ahead of everyone. Daryl had gotten sick of tailgating the Jeep so he pulled ahead, telling me that we were scouting.
I knew we weren't that far ahead as I could still hear the rumble of the RV's engine. We rounded a narrow corner and screeched to a halt. My heart froze in my chest, fearing the worst.
What seemed like hundred of cars were lined up on the double-highway. Most of the doors had been left open and there was the occasional smatter of blood on the windows or ground. There were no walkers we could see, but I was still on my guard. Daryl cut the bike off and I jumped off, more than willing to get off the death trap.
Daryl chuckled, "Not a bike fan?" he asked me.
"Not anymore." I said quietly, trying to keep my answer vague. Sharing my past was the last thing I wanted to do with him right now.
Daryl looked at me funny, "Why no-".
He was abruptly cut off by the engines of the line of vehicles pulling up behind us. Rick bounced off the RV and came over towards us. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.
"We have a problem." He stated.
"Damn right!" Daryl yelled gesturing the the hoard of motor vehicles. Rick cleared his throat, clearly being uncomfortable with an angered Daryl.
"Think 'ya could ride ahead and see if it leads anywhere?" Rick asked him calmly.
"Yeah. Whatever." he mumbled, boarding his bike. "Are ye' comin' or what?" he snapped at me.
I shook my head and walked back towards the RV. I've had enough of that motorcycle for a lifetime. I really needed solid land at the moment.
"I think I'm going to look around for supplies." I told him, he didn't hesitate to start weaving through the dozens of cars.
As promised, I started searching cars for useful supplies. Carl, Lori, Carol, Shane, T-Dog and Glen had joined me shortly after the rumbling of Daryl's bike could no longer be heard. I had gone through at least twenty cars and I was getting tired of the useless junk I was finding.
I moved on to an army-style jeep. The windsheild was still intact and the key was still in the ignition. I took a liking it to it immediatley. I had always loved jeeps, there was something about them that just screamed 'Adventure!' and I had never denied one.
Searching the passanger's compartment and coming up empty, I started to move to the next vehicle when I heard moans. Not just a few, but a mass of them. I knew it must've been one of the infamous walker hoards. I didn't think tiwce about climbing into the jeep and crawling into the backseat. A hand covered my mouth and I fought the resistence to scream.
"I'm not a walker. Relax and be quiet. It's another herd." The voice speaking to me was rough and masculine. It gave off a sense of protection and I relaxed back into the warm body that was behind me.
I could feel the pulse of a heartbeat coming off a well-defined chest. The hand on my mouth was removed and I closed my eyes, trying not to see the sight that was outside. The strangled moans were becoming louder and I could feel the presence of the dead creeping upon us.
YOU ARE READING
No Good (Daryl Dixon)
Fanfiction(DARYL DIXON FAN FICTION) Daryl was the only thing keeping her there. Her sister and brothers were gone, her fiancé was dead, and that crossbow-exerting redneck won't take no for an answer. He is determined to keep Rebel, yet scared to have her. I...
