In the Sound

"C'mere! You can't do that kinda stuff, Kit! You're encouraging him!"

He bowed his snout low to the ground. There was a guilty look in the way his paws dug deep into the mud. I hoped nobody was there to see me father a dog.

I squinted harder at him, gaze fixed with a ferocity that came easy. Kneeling to the ground, I pointed at the earth in front of me. I waited. Still. Unmoving.

Kit was unmoving too. And testing on my nerves.

"Come. Here."

He came to me. That old K-9 could rip me to shreds in two minutes. Maybe even one and a half. But the Foster family was a pack. Kit was my brother, really. He hated when I got angry at him.
Sighing, I patted at my knee, cooing for him to come to me. Okay, so I caved. Those big glossy eyes were way too much for one person to handle. Kit snuggled into my palm, sniffing and pushing at it eagerly.

Then he froze.

As I watched him, my brows furrowed.

"Hey, hey," I mumbled softly. I brought his face to mine, trying to calm him. "What is it? Huh?"

His ears flickered back and forth in fast jitters. His nose twitched a little too, like he was trying to smell something out. Kit's lips curled up, curtains revealing gleaming teeth. A snarl rumbled from the back of his throat. And before I could even process it, he scampered away from me and into the cold night.

His leap off of my lap threw my balance. "The hell?"

Damn rebellious dog.

I scrambled to my feet, trying to follow where Kit escaped. Zilch.The sound of his paws swishing through the grass had quietened to almost nothing.

Blindly, I followed his tracks. The wet grass was parted where I guessed he trudged through. It didn't matter what world I was in, old or new. Walking by myself in the dark was pretty stupid.
A chill slithered up my spine as I crept on.

After a few uneasy steps I almost screamed at a sudden touch. The feeling of a hand sliding over my shoulder. My heart could have stopped then, I'd never felt such a hammer in my chest. My cold breath caught between my crackled and dried lips. Naturally, my back arched in an awkward sort of way before I could spin around.

A dark figure stood before me, his hand hovering where my shoulder had been. After sucking in another breath, I took a cautious step back.

"Ya act like ya seen a ghost, or some'in."

Dixon.

Slowly, a relieved sigh fled from my mouth. After a few more blinks, I could see Daryl's shape more clearly. His hair was roughly brushed to the side. I could imagine him pushing it back after throwing Randall to the ground. And he looked, well, he looked good.

I ignored the flutter in my chest.

Daryl's eyebrows raised even higher. He studied me like I was an alien.

I snorted, "Damn well could've been. Do you stalk me every night? Or is this just a coincidence thing?"

My tone was light, but I felt a certain darkness behind it. I was suspicious. There was a reason he was out here.

"Nah," he paused for a second, drawing his eyes away. He pretended to look around the fields, like he could actually see through the darkness. "Was jus' lookin' for ya."

God, here it comes. The interrogation. The bloody knuckles. Asking how Randall knew me. Asking if I was some kind of group spy who wanted to raid them. At least he'd get what Rick promised him. Killing me.

"Well you found me," I said stupidly.

"What ya doin' out here?"

I glanced around at that, suddenly feeling vulnerable without Kit. "Kit's lurkin' around here somewhere. I'm just waiting for him to come back is all." I hoped it sounded a little threatening.
Daryl gave a slow, steady, nod.

"Ya okay?"

At that question, our eyes locked again. I weighed over his words thoroughly. His eyes were dark, but I wasn't sure why. For a second, I thought maybe he didn't want me to see him in there, executing someone. But then, that moment was gone. He heard Randall say my name. He had to be suspicious of me.

"Yeah, just fine an' dandy cowboy. How are you holding up?"

"Fine," he replied. Dixon took a few wary steps over to me. When he brought his hand up to brush my face, I flinched.

An awkward tension lingered between us. I looked down to avoid his gaze, watching my breath turn into a white, floating fog. To my surprise, he bravely tried again. His rough palm slid over my jaw and lifted up my chin. His hands felt like worn leather.

I couldn't avoid it any more. I looked up to see his dark eyes on me. He looked through me, like I was a freaking hologram. His expression soft and careful. Daryl brought his face closer to mine. My lids fluttered to a close.

A single, terrified scream rang across the fields.

We shot up in shock. Daryl let me go from his grasp, spinning around to pin the scream. I mirrored him, twirling and peering into the darkness. It wasn't any help. I couldn't see shit all. Daryl's annoyed growl told me he couldn't either.

Another scream haunted the air. Maybe Randall?

This time, the scream was followed by Kit's snappy barks. Daryl picked up the direction and bolted. I watched him for a second before breaking out into a run. It was dark, and hard to see, but the sound of Daryl's shoes squishing into the mud guided me.

My heart was thumping again. Faces were flashing through my mind. I wanted to run faster but I wanted to never get there at all. I was afraid to reach whoever it was. Afraid to see.

I heard Daryl growl a swear just ahead of me. Then groans and Kit's barking. Daryl was honing in on a walker. Kit had a tight hold on its leg, shaking his head around and trying to make it fall over.
It was enough distraction. Daryl lunged forward, a knife wedged in his grasp. The corpse reared its head, mouth wide and teeth bared. He drove the knife into its flesh. It flailed to the ground. He stumbled back, head searching around. But it was too late.

Daryl leant down.

Dale was dying.

His cries were soft and weak. His stomach was torn open, spilling out cushions of flesh and bloody organs. But those eyes, I'd never seen them so... alive. They were beady and old, but they darted around like he was just a child.

Kit ran over to me. His bloody mouth broke me out of my haze. I could hear the shouts of the group, confused and frantic.

"Over here!" I screamed before digging my fingers into Kit's caramel coat. He was whining into my lap, smearing blood over my thighs.

The group swarmed. It was fucking chaos. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Not for a second. Dale was suffering, in the cold air of the night. The life was dripping out of him, I could feel it.

"He's suffering," moaned Andrea, her heart laced with sickness.

A gun clicked.

Nobody was meant to watch the execution tonight. Nobody. But we were here. We all sat in the middle of the fields, grass slightly swaying with the wind. Bugs were humming in the tree tops around us. This time we had to face it. We had to face what it was really like to take someone's life.

Rick's arm was straight and steady like it was in the barn. When Sophia came out of the barn, Rick was strong. Level. But Sophia was dead, and Dale still held breath. I knew Rick couldn't do something like that. His eyes were hard on Dale, his finger slipping over the trigger. He took a breath. But he couldn't.

Dixon ushered the gun into his own hands. For the tiniest of seconds he glanced back at me. My eyes widened at that. There was that moment again. The moment where he looked like he didn't want me to see him do something like this. And as he turned away from me, this time the feeling stayed.

The gun was pointed back at Dale's forehead. He looked up at it, like he was seeing some kind of boogie man. His eyes were riddled with such horror that I wanted to tear my own skin off.
Daryl's voice was sad. Sadder than I'd ever heard it.

"Sorry brother."

A single shot sounded.

And Dale was dead.