OUTLIVE.
❝The dead were never the enemy.
It was the living. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK TWO of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 4 - 6 ]
*****
*I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I simply write to write. Astrid, any addi...
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[ xxiii. still who we are ]
june 29th, 2012
➸➸➸
ASTRID LANCASTER PUSHED ON down the open road, the endless Georgian expanse stretching before her like a mirage. Daryl Dixon walked beside her as they followed Rick Grimes into the heart of the unknown. Hours had blurred into one another, and their final destination for the approaching evening had become a mystery even to their leader himself. Their sole purpose was still to distance themselves as far as possible from the sinister shadow of Terminus.
The absence of the massive, billowing cloud of inky smoke behind them signaled the group's relative progress. The throngs of walkers, too, had begun to disperse, also hinting at a promising change.
In an instant, however, a guttural snarl erupted to her left. Astrid's hand instinctively clutched the handle of her machete. But walking on her other side, Michonne—a master of the blade—cleared her throat, her hand raised. "I've got it," She decided. "Astrid, give that here."
Astrid tossed her own blade towards Michonne, who caught it with grace and ferocity. In one fluid motion, she drove the weapon through the walker's skull, cleaving it in two. Astrid watched in awe as Michonne held the blood-smeared machete, a faint trace of a smile playing upon her lips, before returning it to its rightful owner. "The closest thing I've got left to my sword," The latter remarked.
Astrid laughed. "I can't believe you lost it," She said. "You were a package deal. What're you going to do now?"
"I'll figure something out," Michonne insisted, falling back into step. "Maybe I'll give Dixon's crossbow a try."
Overhearing, Daryl scoffed from their other side. He was one of the few who had managed to recover his stolen weapons—but only because Carol had managed to grab them during her own infiltration of the compound. "Ain't no one who can shoot better than me," He snickered.
Astrid playfully nudged Daryl's shoulder. "That's because you don't let anyone else try," She countered.
Her hunter did not back down, his retort as sharp as his aim. "'Cause someone would get killed," He stated matter-of-factly. "If I locked you and Michonne in a room with a walker and a crossbow, the walker would be the only one left standin'."
Michonne chuckled while Astrid naturally retaliated with a light shove, causing Daryl to teeter momentarily. "Screw you," She scoffed.
As Daryl swayed back toward Astrid, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. He claimed a fervent, if somewhat ungraceful, sloppy kiss on her cheek. "Love you, too," He smirked. As he withdrew, his fingers ruffled her tousled hair, and Astrid responded with another playful slap to his chest and a dramatic swipe of her wet cheek.
