Chapter Text
The midnight sky cast a blanket over the small group, stealing your shadows into the darkness as the three of you travelled towards another hopeful sanctuary. Your fingers tightened around the blood-stained fire axe that had become an extension of your own arm, leading Javier and Finley towards the abandoned office building. You had always been the one to walk ahead, the one to shoulder the danger before it could ever reach them. Yet your hands were far from clean, and death followed you like the rotten stench clinging stubbornly to your high-vis bottoms.
The trio had wandered for far too long carrying that scent. You all needed a moment of peace amongst the dead.
The thought alone made your stomach tighten.
You had promised yourself long ago that nothing would happen to Javier or Finley Perez. They had become the closest thing you had to a family since the world had fallen apart, and protecting the father and daughter had become your purpose. Before the world decayed into rotting corpses, you had been a firefighter, someone who ran towards disaster with determination etched into every furrow of your brow.
Some habits never died.
Your devotion to your newfound family burned fiercely within your soul. It never threatened to smoulder, becoming the only reason you still dragged yourself from one sunrise to the next. It was a dangerous thing. Hidden beneath your quiet exterior was a flame prepared to lick at the world until nothing remained but ash.
When your boots finally crunched against the gravel of the car park, you halted the pair behind you. Raising a finger to your lips, you silently ordered them to stay put before creeping towards the stained office windows.
Silence.
Your brows knitted together. There were no groans or shuffling feet.
Nothing.
Lifting your axe, you drummed the hilt against the glass. The vibration echoed throughout the abandoned car park before disappearing into the stillness.
Too quiet. Far too quiet for the middle of Atlanta.
“What the hell?!” Finley hissed, stubbornness staining the teenager’s face.
Without taking your eyes from the building, you raised a finger once more, silently ordering her to wait.
Within seconds, your gaze met a hollow one.
A walker stared back through the grime-coated glass, its jaw hanging limp as strings of saliva and rotting flesh clung between broken teeth. One became two.
Two became five. You knew it.
It had been too quiet.
If the three of you wanted somewhere to rest tonight, you’d have to earn it.
With a quiet sigh, you returned to Javier and Finley. “It’s a fucking mess in there,” you muttered. “We’ll need to clear it out if we want any sleep.”
“What’s the plan?” Javier asked, resting a hand against the rusting shell of a nearby car.
“One of us needs to open the fro—”
“I’ll do it.” Finley tightened her grip around her hunting knife, determination shining through the fear in her eyes.
Both you and Javier exchanged a glance before giving her a knowing stare at her. You shook your head immediately.
“No way, Finn. It’s not safe in there.” She rolled her eyes beneath the twin scowls directed her way. “Okay?” you pressed impatiently.
After a reluctant pause, she nodded.
“Good.” You slung the shotgun from your back before handing it to Javier. “I’ll break the chain and pull them outside. You two stay back and pick off whatever comes through that door.”
Javier frowned, gently squeezing your forearm. “I can do it if you want.”
You scoffed, adjusting your grip on the fire axe. “When have I ever been scared of a few dead?”
A smile tugged at the corner of Javier’s mouth despite himself. “You say that every time.”
“And I’m still here.”
Finley snorted, “You two done? I’d quite like somewhere to sleep before sunrise.”
A quiet laugh escaped the three of you before the mood shifted in an instant. Weapons were drawn and hands were steadied.
Every plan could become your last, every fight demanded everything you had.
You stared at the rusted chain wrapped tightly around the office door, determination flickering in your eyes. Raising your axe overhead, you glanced back one final time.
Javier’s worried expression met yours, he gave you a small nod. You returned it.
Without another thought, you brought the axe crashing down. The chain snapped with a rattling clank.
Instantly, hungry groans echoed from within the building.
You braced your legs, throwing your shoulder against the door as dozens of bodies slammed into the opposite side. Sweat beaded across your forehead while you fought against the growing weight.
It was time.
“Now!”
The dead tumbled out of the door, falling on top of one another scrambling for a feast. Javier began to whistle and Finley took a few steps back, ready to kill them one by one. You grabbed the swinging door, using it for cover before killing the first. In one swift movement, you impaled your axe into the back of its skull, soft flesh melting with the attack. Blood splattered across your face as you quickly detached the axe, the body falling limp. One dead out of many.
You continued this routine, as the father and daughter led them elsewhere to attack. The crimson liquid coated you, consumed by red.
Another growled at you, detaching itself from the stream of them, its cheekbone on full display as flesh rotted in between its teeth.
Animalistic adrenaline sparked into your veins, instantly. It only took a few steps forward before it met the same fate as the previous ones. After falling to its knees, you placed a boot on the limp shoulder to retrieve your weapon. It took a few pulls, due to the axe embedding itself further, but with one loud grunt and tug, it was free.
More blood poured. You were blinded, so blind by the pulsing raging within you and the blood splatter.
So blind that you missed the dead one crawling at your feet, so blind that you missed a herd of them creeping up behind Finley and Javier.
The crawling dead one clawed at your foot, surprising you, forcing you to trip into a sea of the limp ones. Groaning, the adrenaline instantly knocked out of you like the air had been from your lungs. Then a howling scream alerts you, Finley and Javier stood sandwiched in between a plethora of walkers. Heat rushes through you, at the sight, and panic begins to set in.
Placing your attention on the dead one that managed to seize your ankle, slowly gripping the flesh of her left thigh. Its lower body was no more. The organs spilling out. Seething, you kicked at the dead one's upper body. Then, after it slipped from your body. You dealt the final blow, one swift stomp of your boot to its skull.
Seeing the others' situation quickly, you were mortified when orbs met their bodies. Javier was limping and attempting to slice through the hoard, however, Finley held tightly to your shotgun that was once in Javier's possession.
The sixteen-year-old was preparing to shoot it, making your heart sink.
Without a second thought, you grabbed the fallen axe before hollering with fear. "Finn, don't!"
It was too late.
The bullet left the double barrel, instantly splitting with a sharp sound, the force beating Finley to the concrete ground. Knocking her out.
Finley was completely vulnerable and Javier was injured. Gasoline was poured onto the flame within your stomach creating a fearful scream. Your heart was thumping, knees weaker than ever but you attempted to run and save the day.
However, you didn't make it. You didn't save them.
Instead, stray bullets escaped into the air. It was a rifle tearing into the flesh of the swarming dead, the hoard consuming your new found family. They all fell one by one, bodies creating another pile similar to the one you had created. Then, another shot was heard and a warmth blossomed on you.
Your mouth dropped in sheer confusion before the pain came.
Sight was immediately blurred when your head met the concrete once again. A spasm of pain rippled from your calf, the heat crashing over you. Confused state, you heard the screech of a car break. Squinting you saw a black car with a cross painted on the back, a person was scrambling to get a limp Javier in.
With the last of your adrenaline, grunting in protest, you attempt to get yourself up. "Hey, get away from him!" You ordered, but it was strained.
You could barely see, barely keeping yourself awake.
Your ears picked up the muffled protests from Finley before the mysterious vehicle took off without a word. Frustrated, you knocked your skull against the gravel of concrete, clutching the bullet wound on your calf, full of rage. Blood began to also pour from your forehead, no thanks to your own anger.
Panic was coursing through your veins, as you attempted to fight off the sleepy state from within. Your body, brain, and tired soul, can only testify that you worked at full tilt for so very long. It was as if your blood was now electricity, the shock waves vibrating through your damaged body as it searched for the off button.
"Fuck you assholes!" Finley cursed, pulling you briefly from the dazed state.
Searching for Finley within your blurred vision, another soaring pain struck you. Not just from the wound but at the sight you saw. Finley had tears staining her face while gripping the shotgun, then she began running far. Not towards injured you but in the same direction as the car.
"Finn...come back...come back..." It was barely a whisper, you were drained and was cold to the touch. Blood-stained cheek fell to meet the dirt, eyes rolling in the back of your head. You were alone, the one thing you feared most.
All alone, as the abyss consumed your sight and the night sky blanketed you crimson-smothered body.
You had failed the mission. Failed to keep her family safe.
It was unclear how long you remained there, but enough time went by that you were dazed when you finally came to.
And daylight had broke.
Face laying on a rough surface, as your thoughts began to collect mixed with the throbbing headache. The headache told you it was time to rest someplace quiet, to ride out the storm within your brain, but you fought the roll of your eyes. Thoughts of the events before plagued you, making you more determined to fight the darkness of your lids.
You needed to save them.
Then a growl of a monster tickled at your ears, shooting the scraps of adrenaline left within your bloodstream. In seconds, the light of daylight flooded your iris' alongside a figure clinging to a boot. Without a second thought, you shot up and used the other foot as a weapon. The squelch of flesh was heard and your boot sank into the walker's brain, as it met with the concrete.
It was dead with another hit.
As soon as you used it, pain immediately racked through your ankle and regretted it. You collapsed once more, heavy breaths leaving your frame. A string of curses left your lips, and as you mustered more strength, you crawled away from the corpse towards a nearby wall to prop yourself up.
Taking in your surroundings, you realised you were exactly where you were before the world went dark.
Sitting in a run-down office car park, alone.
It wasn't a nightmare, it was real. Your family had been taken from you and blood coated your ankle. You attempted to slow your heart rate, panic settling deep into your bones at the unknown. Eyes twitch at the ache from your skull, orbs finally adjusting to the light, but that was the least of your worries.
You needed to find Finley, the girl couldn't have gone far.
To do so, you needed this wound covered up. But there was no way you could do it out here, for anything or anyone to see.
You needed to get into the office building next to you, the idea created sweat against your skin. Most of the walkers had been cleared thanks to yourself and the kidnappers but there was a high chance there was more.
Especially in a building so tall.
Wounded and fatigued, and the probability of you surviving another hoard was next to zero.
A heavy sigh left you once again, the idea of movement made you sick, adjusting your neck. Then you spotted something in the corner of your eye. Beside you was a discarded plank of wood, mind instantly conjured up an idea.
"Come on, you got this," You muttered to yourself encouragingly. You had never been more thrilled to see a piece of wood in your life.
Slowly but surely you dragged yourself from the floor, using the plank as a walking stick. Stumbling a few times which irritated you greatly. Sweat still rolled down your face as you leaned your forehead against the office building. Your mind was racking through possibilities and scenarios, grabbed onto your axe, which had been discarded on the floor, preparing yourself.
Cautiously, you made your way through the array of corpses, to get to the offices.
The clank of your plank ricocheted throughout the lower floor, as you shuffled around the decaying building. You decided to bang the clank on the lower floor once more, in hopes to see any form of the dead.
When you watched three rise from the reception desk, you sighed.
Normally, you would risk picking off three but you didn't trust your body. So, you decided to make your way up the challenging flight of stairs which proved far too difficult.
After reaching the third floor, you were drenched in your own sweat and pools of blood began to follow you. The burning became numbing, as you began to lose feeling in your toes.
After a brief scan of the floor, you noticed there was no sign of life or the dead.
Finding an office with a sofa nestled into a corner, you set up camp the best you could, as vision began to blur, again. Putting your satchel on the couch, you collapsed onto it, instantly sticking to the hideous fabric.
The plank thudded beside you, as your shoulders finally relaxed. Slowly with shaky hands, you began to rummage through the supplies in hopes of finding something for your bullet wound.
Your eyes met a dreaded object. A stapler and some alcohol. Javier insisted on keeping this, as it was a decent alternative for a thread and a needle. For a botched job.
Cursing, the idea of stapling yourself alone makes you cringe.
"For Finn, for Javi." You mumbled, as you silently thanked your brief medical training at the firefighter academy. Your stomach began doing flips.
Ripping the lid off of the Vodka, as you examined your leg. The bullet had gone straight through, at least you didn't have the job of digging for it. Grabbing the leather handle of your bag, you placed it between your teeth, using it to silence whatever was next. Your head was getting heavy, you needed to do this now. Tearing at your jeans for better access, you readied to pour the alcohol.
Before a drop could fall from the neck of the bottle, a creak alerted you. You stumbled for your axe, neglecting the bottle to one side. "Give me a fucking break," you whispered.
Your body was now shivering and far too weak to stand and fight. Rather, you chose the pistol that had been discarded in your bag for some reason.
Now slumped on a sofa with your pistol raised at the door, struggling to fight off the void consuming your vision. This wasn't going to be your final stand, you wouldn't allow it. So, gritting teeth tightly, adjusting your grasp on the weapon, as the handle on the door begin to turn.
Upon the door opening, you spotted a male, and you refused to let him evaluate you.
Click.
"Fuck," you cursed. That's why it was discarded in your bag.
You had pulled the trigger but nothing escaped the gun, just a soft metallic click.
Your clouded gaze met striking blue daggers, you didn't notice the machete he was clutching onto. Before another figure appeared, he was moments away from taking your life as you struggled to stand and fight.
Then a familiar voice rang through your skull, calling your name, causing you to jolt and crumble to the wooden floor once more.
You were on the verge of tears, as the voice was music to your ears. Heart soaring, happiness washing over your sweaty face.
"Don't hurt her, you asshole,” Finn called again.
Your vision was blurred but you could make out three sets of feet, one being a pair of sneakers, Finley's shoes. "Finn..." you groaned, face squished to the floor.
"She almost took my damn head off, kid! Gimme one reason I shouldn't." A gruff southern voice entered your ears, one you weren’t familiar with.
"Hey, that's enough, the pair of you." A woman's voice spoke up lowly. "We don't need to let the whole city know we are here."
The rest of their conversation was muffled, ears filling with static and your vision swallowed into darkness. Your worn face had finally relaxed, as you passed into slumber, at the thought of Finley finally back at your side. You simply ignored the lurking dread of the strangers that were within her company.
"We'll find Dad, I promise," Finley muttered. Those were the last few words you heard, before allowing sleep to take a hold of your throbbing mind and body.
Officially making you a damsel in distress, again.
The initial whirlwind of confusion subsided slowly, but the grogginess remained as your thoughts seeped back. There were muffled voices, as your eyes attempted to reveal themselves but quickly shielded them due to the harsh light. Your lips were chapped and gasping for a drop of liquid to cure the dry throat you had. Attempting to stretch the wave of aches from your body but regretting it.
You groan, the discomfort of your leg burning all senses.
"She's waking up, Finley," That previous woman's voice met your ears.
After a few thuds of footsteps, you felt a palm on you shoulder attempting to sit you up.
"Hey, are you awake?" Finley's familiar voice had you fighting the strain of your tired eyes.
You needed to see her, to see if she was unharmed.
When you did fight off the darkness, your eyes met with familiar ones. A sigh of relief left your lips, as you spotted Finley's toothy grin. You replied with a soft hum and a soft smile, as you soaked her in.
However, it dropped at the sight of the strangers lurking in your peripheral and the scrape across Finley's cheek. Heart pounding, your hand was quick to grab you axe which was always attached to your belt.
There was nothing but air to grab.
"Hey, it's good, we're safe," Finley attempted to reassure. "Carol and Daryl are good people, they won't hurt us. They helped me around the city.”
Your breathing was still panicked, orbs scanning them. A grey-haired woman was sitting beside her, sporting a soft smile juxtaposing the laceration on you, who you assumed was Carol. The woman was littered with fresh bruises, as her hand laid on top of her knife.
This site did not boost your confidence in them.
A tut left the man's lips, as he stared out of the large office wind into the city. "Speak for yourself." Finley glared at the man 'Daryl', who wore a vest with wings spread across it.
He didn't spare a glance, clearly bothered by your previous actions. To shoot him.
"How long have I been out?" You asked, wearing a nasty scowl, something Finley told you off for often. You kept that cold stare, in an attempt to keep an intimidating aura, as a warning.
"Not long but long enough to get that wound stitched up," Carol nodded towards your leg. You could see the intricate weaving of stitches that clasped your flesh shut, and you silently thanked this woman. "You lost a lot of blood, I'm surprised you're even sitting up."
Analysing Finley once more who was twirling her ring on her finger, something she did when nervous. It was blindly obvious the girl was worried, about her father, the same thoughts plaguing your own.
"Carol patched you up well," Finley beamed at you.
You nodded, giving an appreciative smile to Carol. "It's not often people want to help strangers... but we better make a move,” you began. Slowly, ignoring the excruciating ache travelling through your leg and furrowed brows of the older woman, you lifted her wobbling form from the floor to stand.
Finley was instantly by your side, trying to support you. You opted for the egg shell coloured wall beside you.
"You need to sit," Finley seethed.
"No, what I need is my weapons and to go find your dad," you replied with a heavy breath, supporting yourself already becoming too tiring.
The man shook his head with a scoff, prompting a glare from you. He continued to ignore your existence.
"You're injured, weak and you have a little girl to protect. How far do you think you'll make it?" Carol interjected, her voice turning into cold steel. Juxposing with her meek demeanour.
The soft scraps of boots were heard, as you opted to stare down at Finley's worried eyes.
"She ain't worth the trouble. Let her take the kid and her weapons, she ain't no use to us." The southerner jabbed, throwing your weapons below your blood-stained boots.
The clattering of them echoed off the walls, as you grabbed them swiftly. Ignoring the groaning of your ankle.
"We need all the people we can get, Daryl. For Beth." Carol countered Daryl, perking your interest. "We don't know what we are walking into with these people."
Wobbling slightly, you decided to take help from Finley. "We don't owe you anything, I didn't ask for your help. Why should I fucking help you?" You spat, not wanting to mix yourself into any drama.
This seemed to outrage Daryl, as he made a threatening step towards the woman.
However, Carol interjected once more, preventing Daryl from spitting venom. "Look, if we wanted to hurt you, don't you think, we would've killed you by now? Instead, we saved you and kept her out of harm's way. She was tearing up the whole city chasing after that car." The woman spoke truly, standing beside Daryl now as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Plus they promised to help us, with dad," Finley explained further. "Those assholes took someone from them too."
Your heart sank, at the sight of Finley's begging eyes. Her desire to stay with them was strong.
"Finn, we don't know—" you attempted to speak but was swiftly cut off.
Finley gripped tightly to your hand, eyebrows furrowing. "They've kept me safe, they stitched you up. I trust them," the girl pleaded as she pointed to them. "Please, if you don't trust them... then trust me."
Your mouth was agape trying to form words at the girl before you. Finley always was stubborn as a bull but she never pleaded more demanded. They saved you from bleeding out or becoming a meal for a walker.
The pain in your leg began to burn higher, alongside the bubbling fear in your stomach, for Javier. You knew it would be impossible alone.These people were the only lead to him, so you’d have to bite your tongue.
Cursing, you nodded softly at Finley. Instantly Finley's smile returned brighter, thanking you, softly hugging you.
Daryl's scoff didn't go unheard, however.
The moment was cut off by a rackety thud alerting the whole group. Your grip tightened to Finley, frightened to lose her once more, orbs pointing in the direction of the hallway where the noise resonated from. Daryl instantly grabbed a machete and Carol was touching her knife in its sheath, heading towards the noise.
Finley slowly retrieved her hunting knife from her back pocket and passed your axe to you. Hobbling and using the young girl for support, the pair of you followed them. The pain in your leg had turned into a dull throb, which helped, thanks to Finley acting as a human walking stick.
Travelling down the hallway quietly, echoing growls of the dead could be heard, you gripped Finley and your weapon tighter. The growls of the dead were now mixed with soft taps, causing you to furrow your brows. Turning a corner, you were all met with one. One that had already been dealt with.
Well, they had attempted to deal with it.
"That yours?" Carol questioned. The walker was impaled by an arrow onto a beam of the building, it was chopping with its exposed jaw and attempting to grab at its next meal.
Daryl was quick to dispose of it, his machete coming down, slicing its skull open like butter. "Yeah," He replied gruffly.
"Someone rob you guys?" You quizzed, confusion painting your face.
"Yeah, some kid found us and decided to take their weapons," Finley confirmed before Daryl could.
You scoffed, "A kid?" Humour twisted your features, that were still blood stained.
Before Daryl or Carol could bite back, something drew their attention.
The sound of bullets rapidly firing halted the group.
It was coming from further down the hallway. Carol was chasing after the sound in seconds, leaving it hard for you to catch them up. The teenage girl supporting you, however, was eager to find the source too. Finley was quick to drag you along with her, even against your protest.
Suddenly, a walker turned a corner and toppled on top of a surprised Carol.
Finley without thinking let go of your body, in an attempt to help Carol. Prompting you to fall against a wall, the pain in your leg shocking.
Daryl went to slash the skull open of the dead but Finley was faster. The young girl plunged her hunter knife deep into the brain of it, dark crimson liquid splattering against the girl's face. It fell limp against Carol's body, as Finley retrieved the knife still unaware of your predicament.
About to curse at Finley, for leaving you stranded, a rough hand forcefully placed itself on your hip. Startling you.
Staring at the culprit, you were stunned.
Daryl stood beside you, scowl covering his face, preoccupied with something else. Being close to him finally allowed you to take in his features, the man was worn and rugged. His shaggy dirty hair contrasted against his ocean-blue eyes, which were more prominent due to the black eye growing and dirt smothering his face.
"Come on," He muttered forcefully before you could interject against it. More frustrated by the events or even think of the proximity of your both.
"Go," Carol ordered weakly, as she struggled to stand. Daryl and Finley both nodded, as they both dragged you to chase after the culprit of the sound.
Turning another corner, Daryl halted his support on you. Luckily, Finley was finally at your side again. Daryl put his finger to his lips, indicating to be silent, the pair of you simply nodded. The trio slowed, so the culprit wouldn't hear you approaching.
Then, Daryl bolted into the room.
A crash ricocheted throughout the building, and the pair of you panicked and decided to speed up to Daryl.
Entering the room, you found Daryl standing over a bookcase that had a teenage boy wedged beneath it. No doubt the one that robbed them.
"It's the kid," Finley spat, confirming your suspicions.
By the bookcase that was previously securing the door, was a walker attempting to break through to get its grubby hands on the group. The boy was struggling, sweat glazed his face, pleading with Daryl to help him. He was far too small to lift it alone, so Daryl finally held some power over his head.
You could see in the southerners eyes that he couldn't care less, staring down at the boy's helpless figure, as he retrieved his crossbow from him.
"Why you following us?!" Daryl bellowed down, at the boy. Passing Carol her rifle and Finley's baseball bat, which she loved so much, as he ignored the dead attempting entry.
The boy pleaded more, trying to explain himself. You understood Daryl had every right to leave him stranded, you were sure you’d do the same.
He crouched down, appearing to help, but instead, he grabbed a packet of cigarettes from beside him.
"Come on, man. Please!" The boy pleaded, even more, and tears started to appear in his eyes.
Finley's grip tightened on you, which didn’t go unnoticed. Staring down at the girl, you spotted a mixture of emotions painting the young girl's face. It was as if she was conflicted with her own thoughts, her brows furrowed in anger but orbs filled with sorrow.
You sighed heavily at the sight of the poor girl, her heart sinking. Daryl continued to light a cigarette, not bothering to spare him a glance.
"He's a kid, asshole." It was a weak attempt at reasoning, you were aware, but you knew a stranger's words might not alter Daryl's opinions.
Taking a deep breath of nicotine, Daryl shook his head. "Nah, I already helped him once. Ain't happenin' again." He began to walk away, even though the boy begged some more.
Carol called after her friend, her face in a state of shock at his actions, but he continued past the trio of females.
"Daryl, stop!" Carol called once more and he halted turning around with a face like thunder. "Stop."
The man snickered, cigarette still in between his teeth, before pointing down at the boy. "You and the girl almost died because of him!" The statement instantly caught your attention, as she went to stare down at Finley once more.
This caused a slight twinge of rage within you. "What does he mean? That's how you got that scrape?" You asked, hating how out of the loop you were.
What happened while you were gone?
"But we didn't!" Finley shouted back, ignoring you, face still full of sorrow. "We're still alive!" The girl was now staring down Daryl, who only stared back with an unreadable look.
Slowly, Daryl shook his head, blue eyes falling to the ground. "Nah, leave em' be." Again, the man walked away from the scene choosing to ignore the boy's pleas.
"Daryl!" Carol shouted.
Finley released her hold on your frame, however, you were quicker this time and gripped onto the wall beside you to prevent another fall. The young girl was into action before you could protest, attempting to free the young man.
"Finn," you warned, adjusting her foot.
Then the breaking of glass was heard.
The walker was through and your heart sank.
It tumbled through landing atop the bookcase. Finley haphazardly jabbed her knife at the walker, missing it and hitting its shoulder. You were quick, too quick.
In an attempt to use your axe. Hands fumbled for it and dropped it to the ground. The metallic sound rang in your ears, heat rushed over you. The world was moving in slow motion. Before you attempted to grab your axe, a whizzing sound passed you, a gust of wind tickling her cheek.
The snarls from the dead halted and the boy's cries followed.
A sigh of solace left your dry lips, at the sight of the arrow embedded into the dead.
Finley was still attempting to lift the bookcase off the boy, as her shoulders shook from the aftershock of the events. Turning her head, you saw Daryl staring at both her and Carol with a cold gaze.
Was it a change of heart? Or was it thanks to Finn?
You couldn't care less, just thankful for the girl being alive. Regardless, you were also beating yourself up over being so clumsy, due to the state she was in.
You despised the weak.
"Move, Kid," Daryl ordered, now standing beside the girl.
Finley glared up at him before moving away from the older man and back to your side. You attempted to embrace her, to try and comfort her, but she shrugged you off only offering support for your injury.
Tutting to yourself, aware of how hurt the girl gets when she cracks under pressure. The same way Nadia does.
Daryl and Carol managed to rescue the boy, who was more than glad to spew ‘thank you's’ to them. The boy was out of breath but still rushed towards the window of the room, you noticed the limp he had.
"You okay?" Daryl asked Carol, who appeared to be fatigued.
"I'm sorry, I dropped you earlier...I just y'know..." Finley attempted to explain, but was stuttering over words and her eyes darted everywhere else but your own.
You scoffed, shaking your head slightly. "Almost knocked the wind out of me," you chuckled before ruffling the girl's hair. "Luckily Daryl caught my ass before I could."
Finn snickered lightly, now staring at you.
"I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here. They probably heard the shot," The boy began to ramble in a panic, drawing the group's attention to him.
Carol offered a piece of wood to you for support, one similar to the previous plank, you accepted it, quiet eyes trained on the odd boy.
The boy was a mess, he was pacing while peeping through the window so often.
It seemed to grab Daryl's attention, the man eager to find clues. "Who?"
"The guys, the ones at the hospital."
"You've seen my dad?!" Finley perked up, speeding beside Daryl to interrogate the boy. Your heart soared, at the thought of an ounce of information about Javier's whereabouts.
So, you allowed Finn to continue.
Daryl seemed to have the same idea. "Is there a blonde girl there? You seen a blonde girl?"
"Beth?" The boy answered.
Carol and Daryl both perked up at the name, exchanging a glance. It was her.
Before they could continue, you hobbled over eager to find out about Javier. "What about a bearded guy? He's got a scar across his eye."
The boy began to stutter over his word, bombarded by curious eyes and questions. "I think so? A guy just arrived as I left. I've never spoken to him but his dog tag says, Perez."
This day has been the worst in a long time and to hear that name erupted butterflies into your stomach.
Javier Perez. It was him.
If you were alone with this information you would've crumbled into happy tears. Especially with the glowing face of Finley, at the mention of her father. You all could finally find one another and continue the journey through this horror-filled city together.
"You know them?" The boy asked. Everyone nodded, faces bewildered. "Beth, she helped me get out but... she's still there. They both are."
Before the group could celebrate, Carol's face dropped as she stared out of the window. "They are coming."
Without a second thought, everyone was in action.
You swiftly retrieved your axe from the floor, using the makeshift walking stick to move around. Finley offered you help but you shook her off, ordering her to move forward.
Daryl and Carol were off in front, checking every corner. The group quickly disbanded from the room, in search of an exit.
"There's a building next door with a basement, we'll be safe there," The unnamed boy informed them.
Darting towards the exit, you attempted to keep up alongside the limping boy. Finley was in your line of sight, that's all that mattered right now. However, the boy stumbled to the ground behind you. Everyone halted but he ordered everyone to 'go'. Carol continued ahead while Daryl was quick to retrieve the boy, with Finley close behind him.
Suddenly, a screech of a car rang in the group's ears, followed by a thud. The scene before them was startlingly causing you all to halt in your tracks.
A car, owned by the people at the hospital, hit Carol with force. The older woman went flying and instantly went limp as her smaller body met the concrete. Your mouth dropped, and blood ran cold at the sight.
Not even seconds goes by and Daryl is scrambling towards her, mortified at the events.
The limping boy restrained him, preventing the group from being caught. "They have medicine, they have what she needs to help her,” he seethed.
Daryl continued to put up a fight, so you were quick. Dropping the wood, neglecting your leg once more. Now, clinging onto Daryl with your body weight, dragging the pair to the ground, as they drove off with Carol. You weren’t about to let him destroy their only chance at getting Javier back.
"Don't be so stupid," you gritted through your teeth, as you both fell stunned by you dog piling him.
Oxygen was forced out of your lungs, as the pair of you landed on your backs. You cursed under your breath, groaning. The kids helped you both up, but Daryl was quick to ask more questions.
"What's it going to take, to get them back?" He huffed, out of breath, eyes lingering on your form for a moment before training back to the boy.
He nodded slowly, watching the car drive off. "A lot."
After composing yourself, you had a fire lit within you. One objective, to get Javier back. Even if it meant an alliance with strangers. Finley tugged your arm slightly, indicating her to help.
"We’ll help you," you agreed, staring at Daryl who stared at her for longer than needed. His stare was deeper than any ocean you had ever laid eyes on.
The southerner simply nodded with a grunt, before staring off prepared to conjure up a plan.
"They've got guns, people."
Daryl scoffed, "So do we."