Never Let Me Go

Daryl

Daryl headed towards the station wagon, gripping onto his flannel in one hand and his crossbow in the other. They were getting ready to start another search for Sophia, and Daryl had a pretty good idea on where he needed to be. He’d just recently found a farmhouse in the area, and by the looks of it, someone had been hiding out inside one of the smaller cabinets. He knew it was a tough lead, but he figured it was better than nothing. Sophia had been gone for a few days shy of a week, and even though it seemed like a short amount of time, a girl as young as Sophia wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Alright,” Rick started. Andrea, T-Dog, Dale, Shane and Daryl all gathered around the hood of the car as he continued. “Everyone’s gettin’ new search grids today. If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found the other day, she might’ve gone further east then we’ve been so far.”

“I’d like to help,” A voice spoke up. Glancing up, Daryl watched as Jimmy walked up. He was a young kid, maybe eighteen or so, and was Beth’s boyfriend. Daryl eyed him as he explained that he knew the area pretty well and that Herschel had allowed him to accompany them. Daryl knew the kid was lying—he could always tell when people were—but he decided not to speak up. They could always use another pair of eyes.

Rick nodded, “Alright, thanks,” He went to continue but was cut off with Shane’s doubts.

“’Bout where Daryl found…doesn’t scream Sophia t’me. Anyone could’a been holed up in that farmhouse.”

“Anybody including Sophia, right?” Andrea asked, narrowing her eyes at the ex-deputy.

Daryl shook his head, “Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than…” He placed his hand about four feet in the air. “…yay high.”

“Good lead,” Andrea spoke up.

“Yeah,” Rick continued. “Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again.”

Daryl scoffed and motioned towards the map. “There’s no “maybe” ‘bout it. I’m gonna borrow a horse. Head up ta this ridge right up here ‘n get a bird’s eye view. If she’s there, I’ll spot ‘er.” After exchanging a few more words about Daryl’s experience with a so-called chupacabra, the redneck set off towards the stalls. His eyes met Carol’s as he walked and she gave him a small smile, one filled with gratitude and nervousness. He nodded back at her, a silent understanding, letting her know that he’d be fine and so would Sophia.

At least, he hoped she would be, anyway.

---

Dakota

With her back against a tree, Dakota held off a grin and watched as Sophia continued on with her practice. They decided to stop and relax for a little bit; Dakota noticed how Sophia’s legs were beginning to shake from walking too much and how Rusty’s breathing was becoming a bit labored. The older of the two found a spot near a small and secluded creek that was (hopefully) a decent place for them to sleep, not to mention there was fresh water. They had walked a few miles away from the church, heading back into the woods. Dakota hoped to see some sort of trail that Sophia’s group may have made.

Dakota chuckled, watching Sophia’s tongue shoot out of her mouth in concentration. She lifted the knife, just as Dakota had taught her, and flicked her wrist. The knife skimmed the tree but it was the closest Sophia had gotten all day and her face lit up excitedly. “Did you see that, Kota?” The younger girl exclaimed. “I hit it!”

“I saw, kiddo,” The older of the two grinned and stood on her two feet, making her way to Sophia. “But, there’s a couple things off. First, ya gotta make sure your feet are squared up, and make sure your knees are bent. There ya go,” Dakota smiled when she saw Sophia copy her stance identically. “Now, the trick is all in the wrist and in the pivot of your hips. Ya gotta flick your wrist fast enough so it’ll lodge itself into the wood, but ya also gotta put enough umph into your hips so it’ll go faster.”

Sophia nodded but glanced up at Dakota shyly. “Could you show me one more time, please?”

Dakota sighed, nodding her head. She took the knife out of Sophia’s small hands and squared her feet up. “Eyes on my hips, girl,” She told Sophia, who nodded and watched the older woman intently. She wanted to be able to protect herself, not to mention her mother. After all, her mother had always protected her—from walkers and her father.

But, just as Dakota was about to toss the knife expertly, heavy footsteps sounded from the distance. Dakota reacted quickly, shoving Sophia behind her and readying the knife. The stomping was loud and rhythmic…galloping? Dakota thought. The sound was just a few yards away, and Dakota had backed her and Sophia against a tree. Rusty was growling next to them and Dakota put her hand on his head, silently commanding him to keep quiet. Sure enough, a chestnut colored horse came barreling through the bush, nearly knocking Dakota and Sophia on their backs. It raced past them and back into the woods, kicking up dirt and leaves in its path.

“Kota,” Sophia spoke up nervously. “What is a horse doing out here all alone?”

Dakota shook her head. “I have no idea, kiddo,” she sighed. “But I think we should find out.” Grabbing their bags, Dakota tossed one over Sophia’s shoulders and carried the heavier one on her back. She turned to Sophia and grinned. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can find us a cowboy.”

---

Daryl

Dirt covered Daryl’s face and his side hurt like a bitch. The horse he borrowed from Herschel had bucked him off after getting spooked by a snake, and afterwards had run off, leaving him stranding in the middle of a deep ravine. It would be one hell of a climb, considering he pierced his hip with his own arrow. Daryl groaned out in pain and opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, except for a husky figure standing above him. “Why don’cha pull that arrow out, dummy? Ya could bind yer wound better,” The deep, southern voice said.

Daryl let out a weak chuckle. “Merle…”

“What’s goin’ on here? Ya takin’ a siesta or somethin’?” Merle chuckled.

“Shitty day, bro,” Daryl replied. Little did he know that while he was talking to an imaginary version of his older brother, a couple walkers had emerged from the other side of the ravine. They snarled and snapped their jaws as they limped towards Daryl, smelling every drop of blood that leaked from his wound and into the wet sand.

“Yer gonna die out here, lil’ brother,” Merle told Daryl. “And fer what?”

“A girl,” Daryl whispered, wincing in pain. “They lost a lil’ girl…”

Merle grinned. “So ya gotta thing fer lil’ girls now?”

“Shut up—“

“Cuz I know that ya ain’t out lookin’ fer old Merls no more,” Merle said.

Daryl continued arguing with his delusions, not even realizing that the walkers were gaining on him. They stumbled through the water, groaning and gurgling with hunger and the thought of a fresh meal. It wasn’t until his foot had started being gnawed on by one of the bastards that he was brought out of his trance. “Shit!” Daryl exclaimed, dragging himself away from the rotting cannibal. He watched with wide eyes as the walker gained on him. He couldn’t reach his crossbow; it was somewhere in the water. He searched the wet sand until he found a heavy and sharp branch that would suffice as a weapon.

But it was too late.

The walker was already dead.

Daryl glanced up and watched as a young woman pulled a machete out of the walker’s skull, wiping the fermented juices on her bandana before sliding the long knife back into her belt. The other walker stumbled towards them and she handled that one as well, jabbing a smaller knife up into its chin and out of the top of its head. She paused, glancing over at the injured man.

“You the one with the horse?” She asked. Her voice was a little rough, but it had a tinge of southern twang in it. She must’ve been local.

Daryl scoffed weakly. “I was, ‘til it got spooked and threw me off.”

She breathed out a chuckled. “Smooth one, cowboy.” Daryl narrowed his eyes and was about to bite back a response when a small movement caught his eye. He leaned on his side painfully, peering around the woman. His eyes nearly fell out of his head and he couldn’t help the small grin that came to his lips.

“Sophia?”