Chapter 42- Dear Insanity

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My jaw goes slack as I take in the shocking scene enveloping in front of me. Maggie's holding a small baby in her bloodied hands, tears streaming freely down her rosy cheeks. It looks like she just saw her moms ghost. Or worse. I clutch my stomach in shock. That seems to be the emotion I've been feeling a lot of lately.

She walks towards us all, her thin legs almost giving away under her. From pressure or exhaustion, I'm not entirely sure. Carl walks past her, with an expression I can't even begin to describe properly. But I get the just of it. His face is stone-cold and his eyes look... Dead. Wait. Where's Lor-

Rick walks towards the brown haired woman, takes a look at the baby and let's out a strangled moan that can only be compared to what a cat makes while you strangle it. Not that I've ever strangled a cat before.

A million questions run through my head as I burry my head in Daryl's chest.

What happened to them? Where's everyone else? Is anyone else dead? Where's Lori? Is the baby Rick's or Shane's? They keep whizzing around my head like jets, making me feel light headed. A sheen of sweat gathers on my forehead and I feel gravity pulling me down.

The last thing I see before the darkness engulfs me completely, is Rick walking back into the walker-infested prison with a sharp axe in his hand.

~

I open my brown eyes slightly and take in my surroundings. Some clanging noise woke me. The grey railings, white sheets and Daryl. Did I... Faint? Of course a clumsy fuck like me would. For the second time as well. I can't even keep calm in crappy, crazy situations. It's a miracle I made it this far.

I move to sit up, but the pain radiating from my shoulder makes me re-think my decision. So I groan in frustration and pain instead.

"You're awake. How's yer shoulder?" Daryl immediately moves towards me, hands hovering over my body. Probably wanting to help but not knowing how. Dé ja vú hits me like a bitch.

I smile up at his cute yet rough features and think back to my first impression of him and Glenn. Mr Sexy and Mr Cute. Of course, Daryl's more than capable of being both. And I think that was the first thing that shocked me about him.

"It's a little sore. I should definitely be a lot more careful with my machete" I chuckle and pull myself up, leaning against the cold railing next to our bed. I hiss in pain and coldness, but smile reassuringly at Daryl.

The reason why I lied about the injury? If I do tell him, he'll blame himself and maybe distance himself. Or maybe even break things off because he'd think he's no good for me... Of course I'll tell him the truth someday, but that day won't be any time soon. Not that it really matters anyway. Just a nicked shoulder.

As if someone slapped me in the face, all the terrible memories come flooding back in. The sirens. Theodor. Lori. Alex. Jack. Carl. Rick. The baby.

My eyes widen as I take in a sharp breath, causing my shoulder to brush against the metal. It stings. "Daryl. Where's... Where's Alex? The baby?" I whisper in a voice full of horror. What if she's still somewhere in the prison, fighting for her life?! Or Jack? Gabe? And the others? And the baby...

I push myself up, ignoring the pain as best as I can and start walking towards the metal steps. I'm going to see for myself. A pair of big hands wrap around my waist and pull me back gently. Daryl.

"She's sleepin'. You should leave her. As for lil' asskicker, she's doin' fine. Beth's takin' care of her" He whispers into my ear softly. A wave of relief as well as butterflies spread through me. She's alive and Daryl's acting real sweet. And the baby...

Georgian RedneckWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu