Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 48 - Distracted

The sun rose higher as the minutes ticked on, blazing on the survivor's backs as they worked to pull at the particularly reeking bodies.

The foul stench of decay seemed to fester under the burn of the hot day, making their job even more difficult whilst they held in their disgust.

After each of the cars had been moved to a more suitable area inside the prison, Rick had split everyone into two groups.

He, Daryl and Glenn were to go out to collect firewood, whilst Maggie, Carol, Amy and T-Dog were to pile the walkers.

"Leave the bodies for the women to lug around... While they go out and pick up sticks." Carol murmured under her breath, earning a scoff from Maggie and a short laugh from Amy.

"Women?" T-Dog dumped a rather short walker onto the pile, a questioning look in his eyes. They laughed again, Amy wiping her hands on the back of her jeans.

The mood was calmer... The calmest it had been since they arrived at the prison. They had food, water... They were assured safety, and it made for a much more comfortable environment to live in.

It all seemed so peaceful, like for once the group had caught a break, a chance, after walking around without purpose for months... A chance to breathe and slow things down.

Across the field Daryl and Rick waited for Glenn by the hole in the fence. He had been given the job of ensuring the prisoners had their week's worth of food.

The two men didn't say much. Rick looked to be lost in thought, and so too was Daryl, as he scuffed at the dry dirt beneath his boots.

Daryl barely managed an hour of sleep that night, with Amy lying so close against him. He just couldn't sleep. And so he lay in the dark for hours, his eyes resting as he lay rigidly by her side, but never really let himself fall into that sleep he so deeply craved.

That day, his eyes felt heavier than ever. He'd been running on low for a long time, but Daryl knew he was reaching breaking point. It was the sad truth, but insomnia had wracked him for so long he had become accustomed to sleeping for only short, unfulfilling, periods at a time.

"Should I take her out?" Glenn's voice piped up from behind them. Rick and Daryl turned around to see the young man as he stepped through the jagged hole in the fence, before turning again to look at the walker across the lake.

The walker snarled at a spot in the bushes beside her.

"No." Rick patted his holster, as though he were pushing the weapon deeper inside. "If that armoury hadn't been picked clean, we could spare the ammo."

Daryl hung behind as Rick led Glenn past him, his hands tightening on his crossbow.

He was more there for protection, a designated bodyguard for the trip into the woods, whilst Rick and Glenn were to chop some small pieces of firewood for their walker bonfire.

"We'll throw as much wood as we can in the dog run." Rick instructed Glenn.

With such a vast expanse of forest surrounding the prison, he couldn't help but seize the opportunity to look around for wildlife.

He stood alone, his eyes surveying the space around him.

The lake was thought to be useless to the group; mostly stagnant, dirty, water... But with water meant plenty of plants, and plenty of plants meant plenty of animals...

Which ultimately meant plenty of food.

A simple equation in Daryl's mind, and he couldn't help but ache to be out in that forest... to feel, instead of the scuffing of his boots against concrete, the slight crinkle of dead leaves beneath his feet.