Emma
A taut bow, with a quick release, the arrow flew to its
target, a thud between the eyes. The walker dropped. Emma edged forward, crossbow
poised, retracting the arrow with a squelch, wiping it clean and moving on.
Hunting for dinner was much harder now she was on the menu. A rustle up ahead
stopped her. She waited, only to be met by silence. A feeling she was being stalked shot adrenalin
through her body. But her attention was drawn to tracks; a small dear, fresh
too. And just up ahead she saw it. The creature was grazing, unaware of the
danger. Silently, Emma raised her bow, her breath steady as her fingers pulled
back, ready to release. Without warning, the deer fell. Startled, Emma kept her
crossbow aimed where the deer once stood as a man approached it.
“Hey!” Emma whispered, “That’s mine!”
“Don’t see how when it’s my arrow.” Emma edged closer. “I
don’t feel comfortable with you aiming that thing at me,”
“It’s not aiming at you,” Emma replied coolly, releasing the
bow. A walker dropped.
“Nice.”
“You can thank me later Daryl,” she replied with a smile, giving
him a quick kiss.
Emma had met Daryl whilst out hunting not long after the
walkers came or turned; Emma wasn’t sure which. After having to kill her own
mother and brother after they were bit, she was on her own, moving around the woods,
stopping in barns for shelter, until Daryl. At first they hunted together;
finding two bows better than one, sharing the spoils. Then Daryl invited Emma
into his sanctuary once she had earned his trust. After that, he invited her
into his bed. His brother, Merle, was less than thrilled. But somehow, the
three got along; as long as there was enough food.
For so long it had just been Daryl and Merle and Daryl
wouldn't have been half the man if it wasn’t for Merle looking out for him,
saving him from the abuse of their father. That’s why he hunted; solitude kept
him sane, focused his mind, ready for the onslaught when he got home. Little
did he know how useful it would be now there were walkers.
Merle eyed the deer hungrily, expertly butchering it quickly,
disposing of the waste cleanly so as not to attract walkers. And they feasted.
The full moon looked
down as Daryl let the cool air roll over him, sitting on the porch with a beer
and a full belly, crossbow at his side. Despite the world turned on its head,
he felt life was good and he could make a proper go of it. Not one for sharing,
Daryl was ready now to share everything.
“Hey,” Emma said, sitting down next to him. Daryl pulled
Emma in close, staring into her soul, running his fingers through her dark
strands and showering her with feather like kisses, nuzzling her soft silky neck
as she melted into his arms.
“I’ll keep watch tonight,” Merle said gruffly, plonking
himself down. “Seriously, go and do what you do,” he grimaced, swigging on a
beer.
Daryl curled into Emma and for the first time in a long
time, since the walkers, he slept soundly. She gave him comfort and normality in
a crazy world.
A crack shattered the silent night and Daryl was up,
grabbing his trousers along with his crossbow, “Merle!”
“Walkers, god dam it!” Merle screamed, firing his gun again
and again. “They’re everywhere!” The air was thick with the smell of rancid
flesh, the sound of rasping and rattling as they dragged their carcasses
towards fresh meat. Snarling, showing their teeth from which they ripped flesh
from bone, they came. Daryl was quick with his bow, his aim true as one by one
walkers fell. Emma joined him as Merle continued with the gun.
“Stay with me Emma, whatever you do, stay with me,” Daryl urged.
“We need to get out of here!” Merle yelled, “There’s too
many of ‘em.” Daryl grabbed Emma’s hand and they ran, round the back of the
house, Merle following. They could see the jeep, tantalisingly close but two
walkers were heading towards them. Merle aimed his gun.
“Will you stop firing that thing!” Daryl shouted, firing his
crossbow. A walker fell. But a knife piercing the skull finished him off. “Get
to the jeep, I’ll be right there,” Daryl ordered as he reloaded and aimed. The
walker fell in a pile of decaying flesh. Another appeared out of nowhere and
Daryl swung round, knife impaled into the stomach, putrid guts spewing out over
him. Sinking the knife into the skull finished the job. He heard the sound of
the jeep choke into life, a scream from Emma and Merle’s gun firing. A walker
dropped. Daryl jumped in and Merle sped, ramming into a walker before leaving
their home for good. They drove into the night, the house and walkers far
behind before Emma asked them to stop. Merle ignored her, wanting as much
distance as possible behind them.
“Stop the jeep!” she yelled, “I've been bit!” The car
swerved to a halt.
“What . . . . . How . . . . . . Where . . . . . . . Are you
sure?” Daryl was a mass of confusion as he followed Emma from the jeep. She
turned and faced him, tears running down her pallid cheeks as she showed him
her ankle; blood still dripping from the deep gouge. Daryl stared, horror
etched all over his face, burning deep into his heart.
“When I was getting into the jeep . . . . . . a walker . . .
. . . I didn’t see it,” she sobbed. Daryl rushed to her, wrapping his strong arms
around her. “I don’t want to turn Daryl. I saw my family turn, please don’t let
me turn.”She kissed him, hard, wanting to devour him and stay like this forever.
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“Lay with me.” They curled up, beneath a tree where a bed of
white roses bloomed, lying together, crying silently, until Emma fell into a
sleep from which Daryl made sure she would never waken.
999
PS I was sooooo tempted to call Emma Lizzie. . . . . Love Daryl!!!! xxxx
