Lone Survivors

Rick initially doubted the concept of looking after the dog because he quickly concluded that we would need extra food for him, which could go to a human instead. Daryl pointed out that the dog could eat the scraps of his kills and people’s meals so nothing is wasted, while I mentioned that a pet would be a great moral boost. Rick gave in, but only on the condition that we were responsible for it and if food became too low or if the dog became a nuisance, we’d let him go. Daryl suggested to me the following day that we went on a run to look in the nearest store for dog food, since it was something no one would be scavenging for. We took his bike and found a store we had already raided for canned goods and baby supplies. It was still free of Walkers, so we split up and searched the building.

I first found more supplies for Judith, and took as many as I could fit in my backpack while still leaving room for other items. Close by was a pharmaceutical stand that had been almost completely cleared, but I took the remaining few painkillers and bandages for my medicine bag. Daryl suddenly rounded the corner with a grin on his face.

“Look what I found,” he said, holding his open backpack forwards. I easily spotted that it was full of tin cans with pictures of a Labrador on it. “Whole shelf full. We can come back later for more.”

“That’s great news,” I beamed, thinking of the kind shabby dog. Now we had reason to give him a wash and name him. “We should grab some shampoo for him.” I took a few steps forward and scanned the remaining bottles for shampoo while Daryl walked to another section of the shelf. I spotted a container and stashed it in my bag, becoming excited about caring for a pet.

“Or we could use one of these,” Daryl spoke up. I turned my head and saw he was holding a box of condoms.

“Really? In a store while Walkers go past the windows?” I questioned with raised eyebrows.

“We have time to spare, and your ass looks great in those jeans,” he smirked. I giggled at his remark, turning my back to him so I could look through the dusty windows. A lone Walker was stumbling past: not the most romantic thing in the world. Daryl suddenly pressed himself against my back, flicking my hair off the side of my neck so he could kiss it. The comfort of his arms around my torso made me relax into his touch, so I spun around to meet his lips.

An hour later and we were back on his bike, heading to the prison. I clutched onto his waist, pressing my nose on the back of his neck to take in his scent. Despite the sight of Walkers staggering onto the road, all I could feel was romance. My heart pounded with love for Daryl, and nothing else in my world seemed to matter.