Lone Survivors

“Mandy? You comin’?” Daryl called up the stairs to our watchtower. Things had calmed down since Andrea’s death. The Governor hadn’t returned, probably because he had no one left to help him attack us, and the newcomers had settled in. I had remained in our room, thinking about Andrea, the Walkers, and death. Life was too depressing, and I didn’t want to venture outside.

“No,” I answered with a grumble. I heard his frustrated sigh before his heavy boots thumped up the steps.

“Why not?” he questioned, striding across the small room to where I sat. I was folding one of his shirts with the utmost care, and I had been doing so all morning. It was times like this that I missed the Internet.

“I’m busy,” I shrugged. I didn’t dare meet his disappointed eyes that I could feel staring down at me. A boot came into view and, before I could stop it, pushed the shirt and disrupted the folds. I bit my tongue gently to prevent myself from angrily speaking.

“You promised me last night you’d come huntin’ today,” Daryl reminded me.

“I don’t feel up to it.” I didn’t want to say more, but he gave me a questioning look that urged me to explain. “What if something goes wrong and I die?” His brow furrowed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be with you, I’ll protect ya.”

“I just…” I trailed off, sighing before diverting my eyes and feeling confident enough to tell him. “I’m afraid to go out… What if I die slowly like Andrea did?” The tears were coming back, but I managed to prevent them from falling. Daryl crouched in front of me and tilted my chin up.

“Don’t talk like that. It’s not gonna happen,” he said forcefully.

“You don’t know that,” I remarked. “I- I’ve always been the weakest in the group, right from the very start!”

“But now you know combat, and Hershel’s taught you some medicine…” Daryl tried to counter me, but he clearly ran out of things quickly. “Hey, you put up with Merle well. Anyone who can do that is strong if ya ask me.” I smiled, remembering the few laughs I had ended up sharing with Daryl’s brother.

“Does it get any easier?” I asked him, referring to how he now showed no sign of pain at the mention of his dead brother. Andrea wasn’t a sister, but I felt like the apocalypse situation had made us so close at the farm that her loss was extra painful.

“It does,” Daryl nodded. “We have to deal with death every single day. You can’t let it get to you like this.”

“You’re right,” I mumbled. I still wasn’t used to this new, brutal world.

“You know what would help take your mind off things?”

“What?”

“Hunting,” Daryl smiled before offering his hand. I took it and let him pull me onto my feet.