The Darkest Storm

“She said she’d be here.”

Daryl stood just behind the railing along the edge of the road, trying to be patient as he scanned the tree line below them. The group watched him whilst shooting unsure, hopeless glances between each other. There wasn’t even the slightest inkling that she was out there, no movement or sound. It was only the strong feeling of instinct weighing heavily in Daryl’s gut that she was out there and still alive.

He quickly grew impatient, growling deep inside his throat and stomping his feet on the gravel. He turned around and approached his bike, grabbing the handles and climbing on.

“I’m gonna go back.” He insisted.

“No.” Rick shook his head and stepped forward.

“We can’t just leave her.” Daryl told him.

“We don’t even know if she’s there.” Lori said.

“I know she ain’t there.” Daryl shook his head. “We just gotta – gotta retrace ‘er steps or som’in’. Track her down. She ran into the woods right when we took off –“

“Wait, what?” Glenn interjected. “You just left her there?”

“I didn’t just ‘leave her there’, man. She jumped off the damn bike –“

“You didn’t stop her?” Maggie uncrossed her arms.

“She saved my life.” Carol spoke up in a mere whisper from behind Daryl. “Darcy gave up her spot on Daryl’s motorcycle to save me. There wasn’t really anything he could do about it, she –“

“She made up ‘er mind.” Daryl looked to the spots of blood on the road. “We still gotta go back. She may have stayed near the farm –“

“She’s not there.” Rick grew impatient. “She isn’t. She’s either somewhere else, or she’s dead. There’s no way to find her.”

“So we’re not even gonna look for her?” Glenn asked, shocked.

“After all she’s done for the group?” Daryl stood up. “Ya ain’t gonna even try?”

Rick pondered on the actions of that woman, how she volunteered for more than half of the shit they went through. She willingly went into the city looking for a drug dealer she never met, saved members of the group on multiple occasions, followed her instinct that proved to be strong and true, and even during the time of his own need, Darcy ran miles without stopping to reach Hershel to save his own son.

Rick sighed; his heart ached for his friend that was hopefully still out there, “We have no choice. We have to keep moving. There have been walkers crawling all over here. The best we can do is head for a safe location, and hopefully she’ll find her way if –“

“If she’s still alive.” Glenn shook his head and scoffed, voicing his opinion that Rick was making the wrong call.

“That woman’s alive.” Daryl nodded. “Spent weeks alone in the start of all this shit. Darcy can outrun all them son ‘a bitches.” He turned away from the group, “She’s alive.”

-

Darcy was sprinting through the trees, leaping over rocks and fallen limbs that seemed to block her at every which way. The howls and growls of the dead echoed through her surroundings, forcing her to never stop, not to even rest for the ten normal seconds she typically allowed.

She knows she needs to keep moving, keep a steady pace, but she’s trembling and light-headed now as she gasps for air. The world around her has transformed into smoke. The remains of the barn fire trickled through the woods and have clouded where she is trying to run. The farther she goes though, the more the smoke is slowly clearing but still too heavy to be healthy. Her deep breaths are anything but satisfying for her aching body.

Darcy gets enough footing in front of the closest walker to be able to duck behind a tree. Luckily, she finds a small lead pipe back in the earliest sections of the woods. This would prove to be more useful than her guns or her bow; she only had so many arrows, and that number was already wearing thin on her back.

She hears the low crackle inside the beings throat as it swiftly approaches around the tree. The shuffling of it’s feet growing closer and closer allows her to time to think accurately of its taunting pace, she doesn’t want to jump out too quickly and misjudge the proximity of the creature. She closes her eyes, and waits.

When she believes it is close enough, she steps out from behind the tree and while still in motion, swings the pipe upwards and strikes the walker against its forehead. She takes no time to sprint past it or see it falter and finally allow true death.

Passing another, she does the same. Like a baseball bat she swings, knocking the walker flat on its back with a large dent in the side of its skull. Darcy finishes the kill, by kneeling over the body and stabbing it once forcefully with the pipe, hearing the all-too familiar gurgling sounds of blood emitting from its throat and splattering across her neck. She closes her eyes feeling the warm, thick liquid on her skin and shivers.

Darcy only manages to get a quick, deep breath in before she whips her head up at the sounds of at least a dozen more walkers heading towards her from up ahead. She has no time to rest. She only gives herself enough time to barely steady her breathing and stare down at her shoes, watching as the speckles of blood drip off onto the leaves of where she stands. Then, Darcy picks up her feet once more and heads for the direction of the highway, praying that the group has safely met up with one another and are patiently waiting for her there.

She shakes her head, trying to get one person out of her mind. How could she be so foolish in just blurting out something so secret, so damaging in this kind of world they now lived in? And to Daryl of all people? What did he think about her now? But, she remembers his hidden tears when she told them goodbye. That gave her some hope that if she met up with them, everything would be okay.

Darcy hurdles over a fallen log in the midst of her thoughts. Her attempt wasn’t high enough. The toe of her left boot catches the bark and she has launched herself into the twigs and rocks of the forest floor. She scrambles to her feet, ignoring more cuts and scrapes that dripped with blood that added to the collection. If it weren’t for the color of blood, black and red, she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference from dead or living.

She looks behind her; she has gained a few more feet between her and the monsters that still insisted on shadowing her. They never stopped, so she couldn’t either.

In a matter of minutes after her fall, her throat and nose start to burn. She begins to cough, the mixture of smoke and cold air makes her feel even weaker than before. Discomfort turns to distress until each breath sends a searing pain through her chest which pierces her lungs. She knows she has to hide; get this under control before she can go any further.

The only thing she can focus on are the sections of thick brush up ahead; she climbs towards them, still making sure if she is able to hide successfully without the beasts finding her. She manages to take cover just in time under the thickest bush, crouching on her hands and knees and lying flat on her stomach.

Darcy hopes the walker’s minds are dense enough not to hear her breathing and know where she hides. They walk by, confused, looking around for their precious hunt. Darcy peers through the small leaves at the sight of one directly beside her, standing facing the bush as if it senses her presence; it is the only one to not move to continue to search.

Darcy’s breath hitches in her throat, her eyes where rimmed with red and her face stained with everything imaginable. She knows that if the walker sees her, she’s doomed.

The world has thrown yet another twist, but it’s in Darcy’s favor. Somewhere, deep in another section of the smoke filled woods, a loud scream penetrates the air. Andrea – Darcy knows it’s her. Her mind goes frantic with questions and worry: is she caught? Hurt? Where is she? Can she reach her?

But then, just as it started, it stops. Darcy’s heartbeat grew loud in her ears, and she is sure the walker has heard it until it turns around in the direction of the cry. Along with any that had followed Darcy, they all walk away.

She waits still until it is definite they will not turn back around, then she slowly emerges from the bushes, finally out of harms reach. But even though Darcy is thankful for the circumstances, she aches for her friend that she can only assume is dead somewhere between the trees.

But, to remain still is to allow death. Darcy is barely on her feet before growls, which she is sure is from the walkers far ahead now, make her frantically try to once again dodge the trees and rocks to reach the highway. Whatever vague plan she had thought of regarding returning to the spot where Sophia was lost is now wiped from her mind as she zigzags, dives, and leaps to avoid anything else from dragging her down to the forest floor and into the claws of the undead.

Her legs are screaming, begging for her to stop. But the clearing in front of Darcy only makes her go faster, harder. With her whole body she pushes through the opening,

“Daryl!”

Darcy falls to her knees, allowing tears of happiness to flow like a river onto her cheeks. She sniffs and wipes them away with a smile on her face. She pushes herself up again to her throbbing feet and climbs over the railing and seeing the washed away sign they left for Sophia.

She looks around, and the smile fades from her face. They weren’t there.

“Daryl?” She calls out. She walks around the car and to the center of the road, looking both ways in case they were further down in another direction.

“Rick?” A breeze drifted through. Silence.

“Glenn?” Her voice started to break as she turned in the opposite direction again in search for her group.

“Carl?” A desperate whisper. Everything remains still and quiet.

Darcy tries not to panic and goes over the possible options; maybe they hadn’t reached the highway yet? No. They all had cars except her. There was no way she had made it back before they did.

Out of the corner of her eye, something catches her attention. It was a single body of a walker that was shot down. She approaches it, noticing the all-too familiar arrow hole that has pierced it dead center in the forehead. She taps it with her finger and brings the warm liquid closer for her to examine it.

It was fresh. She had just missed them by maybe an hour.

Darcy’s throat is tight with tears, hoarse from smoke and fatigue. She stands shakily, bending over and resting her hands on her knees. It hits her; she is once again alone in this world of chaos and not by choice. Her body jumps, and she begins to vomit. She looses whatever rests in her stomach, but even though there is little, her body continues to force it up until she dry heaves and falls to her hands and knees on the hard road.

When it’s over, she scrambles backwards, kicking the body away and hitting her back up against a car. For a moment, she sits there, letting her tears drip down her face and clutching the sides of her head in hysteria. Darcy leans her head back against the car and cries into the sky.

She has no idea where to go now. The brief sense of hope she had as she reached the highway has vanished. Heaviness infuses her whole body, as if there’s liquid lead in her veins. She looses the will to move, to do anything but sit there and wait for the sun to set and walkers to surround her. For about an hour, she remains motionless, staring at the body that lay in front of her.

It was the brief flash of the group’s faces that brings her senses to live once more. The hazy vision showed everyone standing, waiting for her.

There was Carl, the boy who adopted Darcy as his ‘big sister.’ Maggie, who clutched onto Glenn and her sister, Beth, who all have become close friends with Darcy. Hershel, standing with his shotgun and resembling a wise father that encouraged those when things were particularly bad. Rick, the respected leader who put only the group before himself. Lori stood next to him holding Carl’s hand. Darcy’s eyes shifted to Carol, the woman she selflessly risked her life for to give her the chance to start a new just like she always wanted. Then last, Daryl. The man who never ceased to amaze Darcy and make her heart falter with excitement, respect, and worth.

They all were still out there, just waiting for her to catch up with them. She just had to find them.

-

Daryl stopped the motorcycle and pulled over to the side of the road when a single honk gave him the signal to do so. He looked back over his shoulder, seeing Rick getting out of the car and approaching him. They’d been driving for almost an hour, and Daryl still hadn’t seen anything that pointed to Darcy when he scanned the woods while driving on.

“You out?” He asked Rick.

He received a nod, “Running on fumes.”

“We can’t stay here.” Maggie told them as she got out of her vehicle followed by the others.

“Well, we can’t all fit in one car.” Glenn said.

“We’ll have to make a run for some gas in the morning.” Rick said, turning back to the group after quickly scanning the road up ahead.

“Spend the night here?” Carol asked.

“I’m freezing.” Carl complained in his mother’s arms.

She rubbed his arm, “We’ll build a fire.”

“You go out lookin’ for firewood, stay close.” Daryl turned to Darcy on instinct, his heart dropped when he realized she wasn’t beside him. “I only got so many arrows. How you doin’ on ammo?” He tried to ignored it.

“Not enough.” Rick shook his head.

“We can’t just sit here with our asses hanging out.” Maggie told him.

“Watch your mouth.” Hershel snapped. “Everybody stop panicking and listen to Rick.”

“All right, we’ll set up a perimeter. In the morning, we’ll find gas and some supplies, we’ll keep pushing on.” Rick instructed.

Daryl could only focus on one thing at that point: finding Darcy. While the group waiting for morning to come he would go out and search. Hopefully he’d pick up on her trail quickly. Maybe she was closer to them than he thought.

“Glenn and I can go make a run now, try and scrounge up some gas.” Maggie offered.

“No.” Rick shook his head. “We stay together. God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car.”

Glenn sighed, “Rick, we’re stranded now.”

“I know it looks bad, we’ve all been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other.” Daryl hung his head slightly and Carol noticed. The guilt was weighing on her heavily, she was the reason Darcy was gone. “I wasn’t sure – I really wasn’t – but we did. We’re together. We keep it that way.”

The group remained quiet as they waited for more encouragement from their leader. “We’ll find shelter somewhere. There’s gotta be a place.”

“Rick, look around. Okay?” Glenn told him. “There’s walkers everywhere. They’re migrating or something.”

“There’s gotta be a place not just where we hole up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a life for each other.” Rick pointed. “I know it’s out there. We just have to find it!”

“Even if we do find a place, and we think it’s safe, we can never be sure for how long.” Maggie said. “Look what happened with the farm. We fooled into thinking that was safe.”

“We won’t make that mistake again.” Hershel noted.

“We’ll camp here for the night.” Rick said, again. He pointed to a stonewall built to block off the river above it. “Over there, get on the road at the break of day.”

Carol approached Daryl, “Does this feel right to you?”

Daryl shook his head in slight annoyance, “I don’ care what we do. Soon as we settle down I’m goin’ out. Searchin’ for her.”

“You’re gonna go all the way back there?” She asked.

He nodded, “If I have to.”

-

Darcy had been walking for hours along a side road that branched off the main highway where they lost Sophia. It took her awhile to get going and pick a direction, but she started nonetheless.

Darcy took her abundance of common sense into account. She knew they wouldn’t turn around and go the direction where they first came; toward Atlanta. That would be ridiculous. Instead, she remembered that Rick and Shane had discussed getting off the main roads after the first herd had passed them on the highway a few weeks ago. That’s where she found herself at that moment.

She stayed close to the tree line, just incase she needed to duck down quickly and hide. Whether it be a car or more walkers, every now and again she’d make a mental note of a tree she could climb or a bush she could potentially hide in. It was the best she could do for now.

The night had fallen quicker than expected, mostly because she’d been walking for longer than she thought and a lot had happened that day that proved to be more exhausting than not. She would have to find somewhere to camp for the night and quickly; the woods would be infested with walkers at night.

Darcy stopped and agreed with herself that it was the appropriate time to do so; to get some rest or at least try to. She made sure to walk far enough into the woods so that she couldn’t be seen from the road but not too far where she couldn’t find her way back. The sound of running water nearby made her head in that direction in particular.

A wide riverbank could be seen a few paces in front of her. She kneelt down to it, eager to cup it in her hands and bring it to her mouth. To say she was dehydrated was an understatement. She took off her pack that now sported a few holes, and took out a plastic water bottle that Daryl had once given her when they looked for Sophia. She filled it to the brim and saved it for later. She didn’t know how much longer it would be until she found water again, and she had to get moving.

The sun was just hovering over the horizon and Darcy quickly took the time to pick a tree to seek cover in. She began to climb one of the tallest she could find, but one that was also thick with branches that could hold her. When she reached the branch in sight just high enough off the ground, she pressed her back firmly against the bark and stretched out her legs in front of her.

It was growing darker and darker yet. Darcy fumbled through her pack, desperately wishing she had the powers of Harry Potter to conjure up some rope to tie her to the tree. Unfortunately, that was a pipe dream. Darcy rested her head back, frustrated and rested the pack on her legs. Maybe her belt? No. The tree branch was too thick for it to even wrap around. The only thing she would be able to use was her scarf, and that didn’t provide much security, but it was something.

As soon as she reached up to grab her scarf and unwrap it from her neck, the bitter cold breeze nipped at her skin and she shivered. All she could do was grit her teeth and stick it out until morning…or if she just ended up falling out of the tree.

By the time she was done wrapping the thick red material around her legs, night was officially upon her. She shimmied her back against the trunk until she was somewhat in a decently comfortable spot and shut her eyes. She hadn’t really slept in two days, and running all day long, her body doesn’t protest and she instantly dozes off…

Something wakes her up. In her dream, it was voices, small crackles of fire. Darcy instantly sits up, taking into account it was still dark and she couldn’t really take in her surroundings that well. Only the moonlight shining on the river was what she could clearly go by.

Darcy turned her head from side to side, trying to steady her vision and get comfortable in the dark. It was out of the corner of her left eye a dim yellow sputter of light made her unwrap her scarf from her legs and retie it around her neck. She pushed the tail end of it in her jacket and zipped it up, still keeping eyes locked on the fire that she estimated was maybe a bit more than a hundred yards away.

In all honesty, she couldn’t believe she actually saw it. It was the tiniest fire she’d ever seen, which in those people’s case was actually very smart. She would have just missed it if she hadn’t been meticulous in scanning the area.

She listened; there were definitely hushed voices coming from that direction. Darcy’s thoughts ran through her mind quickly with focus. It was a wonder how much energy and composure a few hours of sleep could give you.

Darcy bit her bottom lip and reached up to the branch above her, grabbing it as quietly as she could. Even though they were a good distance away, she didn’t want to risk drawing any attention to herself. She wasn’t sure who they were and if they were dangerous. She had to be extremely precautious and take her time.

Her foot finally reached the last branch of the tree and she let herself leap and land on the ground with ease. She stayed crouched, peering across the way for any sign of movement or if the strangers heard. Nothing was changed in that direction though, so she continued forward.

Darcy decided to pace herself. She would count to ten, and every ten seconds she would move closer to the next tree that would hide her with ease.

She moved swiftly, getting behind the first tree in sight and pushed her back up against it. Her back was sore, she could feel the sharp bark dig into her spine but she had to ignore it. She counted to ten, and moved again.

Her mind whirled with possibilities. What if these people were dangerous? What if they caught her? What if -

It had just struck her that these strangers could be them, her group, and her family. She didn’t want to wait this time. Her impatience and excitement forced her forward. She stumbled though, snapping a few twigs while she jumped behind a tree.

She heard small voices, just above a whisper. “What was that?”

“Could be anythin’. Could be a raccoon, could be a possum –“

“A walker?” Darcy shook with emotion, she recognized those voices from anywhere.

“Oh my God.” She said in a hushed tone, barely able to breathe out her words. She had to be careful now, she caused a stir and if she just ran over to them now they could mistake her for danger.

Clearing her throat quietly, Darcy remembered a trick Daryl once taught her when they were out hunting one day. It was simple, but useful and practical for staying safe and out of harms way: A whistle. It was a bird like whistle that was used between the two when words weren’t ideal for the situation. A whistle of warning, hello, or just to get the other person’s attention.

Darcy cleared her throat for good measure and still hid behind the tree just in case things went bad; just in case she mistook them for another group. With the amount of exhaustion and lack of sleep, it could happen. So, she let out a slow, smooth whistle.

Nothing.

She tries again, this time a little louder. A second later, she hears the voice that made her mouth curve into a hopeful smile.

“Listen!” He hushed the group.

“What is it?”

“Just listen!”

Darcy does it again, this time though, her whistle cracks near the end; she knows it them for sure this time.

Then, the sounds of sweet honey reached her ears. The whistle was repeated back to her and she broke down. She slid to the ground and covered her face as the tears fell, but only for a moment. She then scrambled to her feet and jogged over to the fire. It was surrounded by old abandoned stone walls, right next to the river.

Darcy saw the group come out of the safety of their fort one by one, each holding a weapon but looking frantically around for the whistler. Daryl had taken it upon him to actually step out a few paces into the woodland, crossbow in hand but heart pounding loudly in anxiousness as he searched for her.

“Darcy!” He yells mindlessly, not having a care in the world who or what heard him.

He takes one step around a tree, and stops. He blinks as if he’s standing in front of a ghost. He is suddenly overwhelmed, and the woman standing in front of him is unexpectedly obscure.

As his eyes start to focus, she becomes less of a blur and more of a figure. Taking in the sight, he can see her auburn hair that glistens against the moonlight and is so wavy that he’s taken aback when the bitter breeze tousles it. Dirt, blood, and bruises cover her skin, and there are rips and tares on every piece of clothing she wears. Her eyes are red all around from exhaustion, heartbreak, and lack of hope.

To some, she would be unrecognizable, but to him, she is unmistakable in identity. She carries the familiar rifle on her back, and clutches her bow in her hand. She still remains flawless, like an untouched figurine made without a single flaw.

It was until that moment that he has never felt complete joy in his entire life.