Damn the Dead

We managed to get to the woods in about two hours, only having to beat in the faces of three walkers before we got there. I scouted the surrounding area for anything suspicious, but didn't find anything, not even a damned squirrel. Guess we'll just have to manage with what we have, which is just a bunch of MRE's (Meals Ready to Eat), some trail mix, beef jerky, candy, and water in our canteens. I was hesitant to use the MRE's because they're basically full sized meals, and I wanted to hold on to them for as long as possible. Squirrel was quick and easy, and with it just being me that will eat them, I usually don't end up sleeping on an empty stomach. Emily is pretty much stuck with her trail mix, candy, and vegetarian MRE's. We looted a small store yesterday; it was pretty much stripped of supplies already, but we managed to get a few things that we didn't already have. We would survive, for now, but what I would do for a greasy cheeseburger, though.

We found a large tree to strap ourselves to, and climbed it as soon as the sun was about to set. We probably should have brought sleeping bags or something with us, but the thought of sleeping on the ground and not seeing a walker from a safe distance, paranoid me, to say the least. We did manage, though, to grab two blankets, so that provided a little bit of comfort. The little bit of rope had managed to keep us in the tree, for the most part, but one of us always stayed up to keep watch while the other slept.

I took first watch, and stared up at the stars thinking about life before all of this happened. I enjoyed my life before this, but I felt as if I had no purpose. I graduated high school, but after that I had no plan. I just worked as hard as I could at my shitty Walmart job every day, then came home and lounged around doing nothing, or sometimes partied with Emily and our friends. Mundane as it was most of the time, at least I wasn't fighting to stay alive.

Emily pretty much did the same as I did during the days, but we were content with it. My sister and I lived in my grandparents' house; they left everything to us when they died last year. Things got a little better when dad came back home, especially when it came to paying the bills. He was only home for six months before the damned infection started happening, and had to leave again. I suppose that's all part of the job description; putting others before yourself.

I ended up dozing off, and wasn't able to wake Emily up for her shift. That's okay, we both needed the sleep. As long as neither of us fell out of the tree, we would be safe. I woke up to the sound of a loud cracking of a branch being stepped on somewhere close.

Hmm, there wasn't anything in the woods last night.

Sitting up abruptly, I untied myself from the tree and climbed down silently. The morning chill was still in the air, but it was bound to be another scorcher. With a single Beretta in its holster I quietly started scouting the woods. Emily would be able to take care of herself for an hour or so, as long as gravity didn't take effect and cause her to fall from the tree.

After 20 minutes of searching, I found nothing and started back to the campsite. Since I pretty much grew up out in the woods, I really had no need for a compass or anything, and could usually find my way without any trouble. It's funny how even though I've never been in the Georgian woods, I still managed not to get lost.

I had the feeling that I was being followed, so I stopped and looked around me once more, still not seeing anything. I decided that I shouldn't take a direct route to the campsite, to keep Emily out of harm's way, so I cut to the left to take the long way back. After getting a few feet, it felt as if someone was closing in on me, so I once again stopped. Feeling the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise, I quickly whipped out my Beretta from its holster and turned towards the thing behind me.

My gun was pointing directly at a crossbow armed man. We stared at each other with hate filled eyes for a few moments before he growled, "Who are ya?" I didn't say anything for a moment, just took in the southern accent I heard come out of the man's mouth. After I didn't answer, he attempted to take a step forward, but not before I managed to slap his crossbow away and point my gun at his face. He glanced over at the fallen crossbow then turned to me, pure fury in his eyes, but I didn't care. He was the one to follow me, which is one of the stupidest things a person can do. I don't take shit from anyone, especially not some southern redneck who stalks me in the woods.

"What the fuck is yer problem, bitch?" he asked, seething.

"My problem? What's your problem? You're the one stalking me like some animal in the woods, you fucking country bumpkin'. What is this, Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" We glared at each other for a few moments, but I stood my ground. Before I knew it though, he grabbed the gun from my hand and twisted me around so that my arms were pinned behind me and my back towards him. I felt his heavy breathing against my hair, which caused my breathing to quicken, not knowing what he was going to do.

"Don't ever point a gun in my face again, ya got that?" I elbowed him in the ribs and broke away from his grasp, "Yeah, I got it. Don't you ever sneak up on me again, or I will break the pretty little crossbow you got in half. You got that, Billy Bob?" If looks could kill, I would surely be dead.

Who did this asshole think he was?

"Daryl!" I heard another male voice shout, and then come into view. This man was wearing what looked to be a sheriff's outfit, the cowboy looking hat included. He had his hand on his own pistol situated in his holster, but didn't bother to pull it out when he saw I was unarmed and human. I looked over at Daryl, who still looked like he was foaming at the mouth, and saw him walk over to retrieve his fallen crossbow. He inspected it carefully; making sure nothing was damaged, before slinging it across his back.

There was no way in hell that I would actually hurt his crossbow because hell, I would be furious if anyone touched mine!

My attention then focused back on the sheriff, who still stood in the same spot trying to catch his breath after racing after Daryl. "I'm Rick Grimes, ma'am. Are you here by yourself?" he wheezed out. "No," I replied, walking over towards Daryl with an incredulous look on my face. "Give me my gun back, asshole." He looked down at the Beretta, then back at me before sticking it in his back pocket.

I can't believe I only brought one gun with me, why did I do that?

I took a step towards him, a growl escaping my mouth. He just stood there, just looking at me like I had three heads or something. "Give me my gun back, now." Stifling a chuckle, he started to turn away. I grabbed his arm with my hand, and he quickly had me back in the same position as before.

"Daryl! Enough," Rick started. Daryl quickly pushed me off him and took a few steps back. "Look Miss, we don't intend to harm you or whoever else is with you. We were just searching the woods for walkers and hopefully some food. Our group is just on the other side of the woods…" Rick continued as he walked towards me. I looked between the two men, still not trusting them. I let my tough façade melt away a bit and the sheriff seemed to take a breath, and put a small smile on his face.

"It's just my sister and I. She's up in a tree sleeping about 5 minutes from here," I stated and started walking in her direction. I wasn't sure if they were going to follow or not, and I really didn't care. I was somewhat relieved to see other people alive though, it made it realize that it's just not my sister and I who were still living humans. Those two men are the first living people, besides my sister, that I've seen in about a month and a half. I eventually heard them start to follow me, which led me to believe I didn't scare them off. That's a relief.

"Kait, where the –"Emily started before realizing I was being followed. "Who are they?" she asked, untying herself from the tree and throwing her backpack on the hard ground below. "The angry redneck is Daryl, and the sheriff is Rick. Said they got a group of people on the other side of the woods with them. Care to check it out?" I smirked at her. "We never invited you to come back with us," Daryl said angrily. He looked to Rick for support, but got none.

"Daryl…" Rick warned.

"We don't even know these broads, how do we know they aren't infected or anything? We already know the one is crazy, who's to say the other one ain't either?" he spat. I ignored the comment and grabbed all my gear while waiting for Emily to get all of hers.

"They are coming with us, there is no discussion. They ain't bit, and we surely could use more people at camp," Rick said, starting to walk back the way we just came. Emily wasted no time in following him, passing me with an eyebrow raised and a smile on her face. I knew that look, that was her 'Oh, he's attractive' look. She obviously didn't notice the wedding band the man was wearing. I rolled my eyes at her before looking over at the Daryl character.

He was glaring, again. "Aren't you coming, princess?" I asked him slinging my own crossbow over my shoulder and sliding my second Beretta in its holster. "I ain't fuckin' letting you walk behind me. You're crazy and I don't need you shooting me or sumthin'," he growled. I noticed that he does that a lot. Glare and growl. "Well, dumb shit, just so you know… I wouldn't waste the ammo." I said, then started following behind Emily and Rick. I heard the disgruntled man follow me after I got a few feet ahead of him.

We all walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being Emily breaking every goddamned stick in the woods. After a long, internal debate, I decided that I should probably apologize to Daryl, considering I would probably be sleeping in the same general area as him tonight. I did not want to risk him shooting me with his crossbow while I'm sleeping, even though I would just shoot his ass right back with mine.

I stopped abruptly, not realizing he was so close to me, and turned around. He pretty much rammed right into me, knocking me back a little. He caught me by the arm and steadied me, probably not even realizing he did it. He still glared at me with those cold, blue eyes; questioning what I was doing. "Look, Daryl, I know we didn't get off to a great start…"

"Save it," he said, and then walked around me. I stared at him in disbelief. Here I am trying to apologize, and this guy just decides to be a total douche and not even let me attempt at saying sorry.

"Hey!" I shouted. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. Looking at his surroundings first, then at me, he replied, "What?"

"Just let me apologize, okay? I don't need to be on the shit list of someone whom I just met. Usually I wouldn't care, but these aren't usual circumstances." He didn't try to stop me, so I continued, "I'm sorry I might have hurt your pretty little crossbow, I know I would hate it if someone threw mine on the ground; I'm sorry for pointing a gun at your face, and I'm sorry for acting like a complete bitch. My defenses are up right now, but whose aren't? So if I hurt your feelings or something, I'm just sorry."

"Do ya always ramble on like that?" he asked me. I let out a laugh and shook my head, "Pretty much, yeah. You'll get used to it. So, am I forgiven?" Bluntly he replied, "No. And I don't have feelings, so you didn't hurt them none. Now hurry the fuck up so we can get back to the camp."

Looking at the ground, I started walking towards him as he was waiting to get back behind me. Just as I was about to pass him, he grabbed my arm. I looked up at him as he pulled my Beretta out of his back pocket and handed it to me. "You aim this at me again, and you'll never get it back." I grinned and took it before putting its holster, "That's okay. That's what I have another one for," I said before walking in the direction Emily and Rick went in.