Life after the dead
Chapter 27

Daryl's unwarranted rage had long subsided. Gwen had gotten bit and there was nothing he could change about that now, the only thing he could do was hope that she was in fact immune and that this bite would end in the same way her previous one had, with her being fine, and alive. He had opted to cut off her leg to stop the spread, but upon his arrival it had already been several hours since that kid had gotten to her, besides he wasn't strong enough to carry her. Heck, he was hardly strong enough to carry himself at this point.

As they had left the house, Gwen had been the one who limped towards the walkers and planted knives in their skulls. Reluctantly, she had handed Daryl her bow, but he was anything except a master at using her recurve. It had a nice balance and her arrows were expertly made, but he had just never shot one in his life. Sure he had made bows in his day, the ones you make from random branches, using his shoelace as a string. He was simply inexperienced and shit, did it show. He could bring down a walker sure, but took him too long to align his arrows and thus far he had only managed chest shots. He had sneered in embarrassment at his third shot and had already prepared himself for the crap Gwen would throw at him for being absolutely useless. But she hadn't.

Gwen had remained surprisingly neutral during all of it. She was just happy to be up and about in the sunlight, hobbling her way to walkers to splatter their brains and then back to him to offer him support as he walked. Oddly enough, Gwen didn't seem at all troubled by the state of her leg, having made several jokes since they had started their incredibly slow walk. Daryl's body was aching and with each step he took he felt as if he were walking on a nail bed, but having her arm around his waist, his arm around her shoulder, it numbed him and he felt like smiling.

It was stupid and naïve as he was going to lose her, and he would probably snap the very second he put a bullet in her skull, but there was something about looking down the barrel with her. They were going to face it together.

"You aight?" He asked the limping woman who had leaned a little too much against him to be normal. She was answered with nothing but a grunt and a whip of her head, so that he could look at her better. Her hair had gotten caught under his arm and she made a face as she strained her neck to ease her discomfort. Daryl had instantly raised his arm to help her, but only managed to get his fingers caught in the tangle that was her hair, as he noticed it, he muttered an apology so quiet she couldn't possibly hear it. She offered a toothy smile and squinted eyes and he told her to shut up, only making her smile wider.

Without really noticing it himself, his eyes had drawn to her lips at every given opportunity, his mind replaying the moment she came towards him and connected with him. He had been wondering about it's meaning and cause ever since it had happened but he had been too much of a chicken shit to actually ask her about it. He just didn't know how to feel, and so he tried locking it away behind a wall of made up priorities.

First, they needed supplies, medication, then they needed a car, and they needed to figure out where the hell they had ended up. And he needed his thrice damned crossbow back, Gwen's wasn't cutting it. Her bow was beautifully carved sure, but in his hands it wasn't any more useful than a piece of driftwood. And if he was going to buy her time, he needed a fucking weapon that suited him, something he could defend her with for when she got worse.

He eyed the woods surrounding the road they had taken, cursing the lack of construction and sources of possible medication. She had a temperature, and he needed antibiotics to help her. He wasn't sure how the virus worked, nor really what the body itself did to fight infections. Sure he knew how to disinfect a wound and how to treat certain injuries but the inner workings of the human body were a mystery to him. He'd not been in school long enough to actually learn anything during biology. Maybe her body made something that fought the virus, or maybe it wasn't compatible with her genes or bloodtype- or something.

Daryl groaned in frustration. He was used to feeling stupid, but never in his life had he wanted so badly to have learned something, to be knowledgable, to be educated. He took his thumb to his mouth, trying to combat the rushing feeling that housed in his chest. Feeling that they were running out of time, he turned to Gwen.

There was very little he was sure of these days. Not only was he unsure of Gwen's survival, he was even more confused about her actions and her motives. He had tried to make sense of it all, what had happened before. He wanted to write down her kissing him to an encumbrance of emotion, but that wasn't really befitting of her character. The girl seemed neutral and unphased by almost everything, so she wasn't about to give way to feelings, was she? Maybe it was her appointment with death which made her more inclined to seek a thrill or two before kicking the bucket, but even if that were the case, why would she go for a sweaty, bloodied redneck? Maybe because he was the only man in the vicinity? Did she even like men?

Gwen stepped away from him for a moment, and for that same moment Daryl was afraid that she had heard his thoughts. She took to a walker on the far side however, and he dismissed the idea. He quickly put his thoughts aside, knowing it was unlikely for him to know her lips again. He heaved a grunt and straitened himself, testing his muscles.

Promptly stabbing its much too weak skull, the blade was pulled from the creature's face, spilling gunk Gwen's way at an alarming velocity. She sputtered for a second, turning away of the corpse which had just come at her, wiping her face and picking bits with her hands. The lower half of her face, her neck and hair were now coated in a foul smelling substance of clotted blood, rot and bits.

As if she were animated she reacted, kicked the remnants of the creature as she danced and spat trying to free herself from the stench, spurting all kinds of abuse "Aw fucking disgusting piece of motherfucking shit" she wrinkled and spat once more, viscously rubbing her arm over her mouth. She then caught Daryl's eye and it seemed that he had not kept his features in check as she angered at his sight.

"Suck my left nut, Dixon!" She bit, answering his amused expression with vile. He couldn't help but but chuckle slightly, shrugging as she taunted him with her eyes, dissipating his earlier worries. She was issuing some sort of challenge, like she had done in the woods. He knew what would follow, a scuffle of sorts, her laughter and her body trapped beneath him, incapacitated with pure glee. Daryl swallowed hard, he couldn't manage that now, not with his injuries, and the expected results brought a keen sting to his gut which he wouldn't have. Not now. Not ever.

"It's a good colour on you" he gruffed, roughly gesturing at the blackened goo that lingered on her skin, trying to shift the focus to her instead. She tried to make a face at him, and as she stuck out her tongue, realisation hit her and she near collapsed onto the ground, once again making retching sounds and spitting all over the place. "I fucking licked it!" she wailed loudly, holding her hands to her mouth as she writhed in disgust.

He would have scolded her for being so incredibly loud and reckless while they were in no position to properly defend themselves, if not for the smile that had crept up on him. They wouldn't have many moments like this now, he wasn't about to ruin them. For now, he would just watch her and maybe even try to make her smile, a little.

An hour passed, and so did the walkers. Daryl had convinced his companion to stop killing each corpse they came across, buying them time, saving their energy and possibly even stalling death for a while. She however reluctant, agreed and they had taken to hiding as soon as they spotted the dead. They couldn't outrun them now, weakened by blood loss, lack of food and the constant exertion they now faced.

Daryl had lead them in the direction that he thought best, but truly he had been disoriented ever since he'd been knocked out. He went and directed her on instinct more than actual planning. He truly didn't know where they were headed, all he knew was that this was the direction they were supposed to go.

He had gotten a bit sluggish in the last couple of miles, finding his feet dragging behind him at every step. They needed to rest soon, he knew that much, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. So, instead he distracted himself and turned to Gwen. "Those kids.." he started, waiting for him to answer his eyes, which she did instantly slightly shocking him in the process. Her lids were dark with lack of sleep and strain now, and her skin pale, making her ever so green eyes pop even more than they usually did. He didn't like thinking it, but it was beautiful in a way. Beauty through suffering,... or some such crap.

He cleared his throat and continued his question. "They got out?" Gwen nodded deeply and sucked a breath through her teeth, sighing sharply. "Yeah they did. At least,..- didn't hear their screams so I'm assuming they got away. Out the window, you know?" she said rather lazily, not bothering with complete sentences and actual context. Maybe because she was tired, maybe because she didn't really know, and didn't want to dwell on it, but it bothered Daryl. She was the kind to over-involve herself in other people's business, one of those saviour types, pressing religion down your throat in hope you'll pick up a fucking bible before you die, she wouldn't be this disconnected. It was her fever...

He waited patiently till Gwen naturally gravitated back to his side, her caring nature pulled at her, and so she took to him to support him as they walked. Before she could object or duck his hand, he pressed it up against her forehead, finding it clammy with sweat and burning to the touch. Daryl hissed and took in a breath and she turned to look at him, evidently eager to hear his findings. When he didn't answer her curiosity however, she drew her own conclusions and playfully mused them "I'm on fire, baby~"

Her cavalier attitude irritated the hunter and he was much inclined to whack her around the back of the head, but as he looked upon her closer, her eyes betrayed her real fear. They were unfocused and small, the surrounding lines much darker and deeper now, and so instead of scolding he decided to offer her comfort. He moved his hand to her shoulder and pulled her closer to him briefly, like a tap on the shoulder. "You'll be just fine" he lied as his fingers dug into her mud and blood covered skin.
She let loose a short burst of laughter, swinging her arm around to his side and squeezing a little. "You're a shit liar, dude" she threw, smiling a toothy grin. Daryl gruffed in response, feeling compelled to draw her closer to him. His hand complied and her smile brightened once again. Daryl wanted so very desperately to keep her safe, but how does one fight an infection? A wound? He was no doctor, no physician, heck he wasn't even a veterinarian.

"Damned walkers" he hissed under his breath, silent enough to think that the girl had not heard him. In truth he had been grateful for the change, the virus and the dead, though sickening; it had given him purpose. But now his use was heavily outweighed by the possible loss he might suffer,... again.

"Ohh...I don't know" Gwen near hummed, swaying her head towards his shoulder. "I like what has been done to the world, in a way." Daryl bit the inside of his mouth, surprised to hear her words and slightly angered by its contents. "Death?" he hissed. Gwen shrugged dismissively.

"I once worked a few weeks at a florist, as a kid. Have you ever noticed that flowers were different then? Not like before? Roses, tulips, and even the ever so distinct lilies all smell the same. Ruined by endless modification to have the longest bloom and the most vibrant colour, the flowers lost their scent. Everything had this generic flower smell, like perfume. Fake, and artificial, and now, they'll return to what they were. Just like people.."

Gwen sounded almost hateful as she continued her story. Daryl knew what she meant. It was true that people returned to their nature now, the violent and murderous kind sure, but he supposed that was what humans had always been. This world brought out the deepest and darkest part of a man to the surface for all to see. It was monstrous and horrible, but there was no pretence anymore, it was honest. But some couldn't take it.

"When people break, they can't be put together again" Daryl muttered, absently scratching his arm, having released Gwen previously. Her anger slid from her features and once again a smile emerged and beamed his way and her fist found his arm rather sharply. "Some of us, heal stronger" she sputtered. Daryl huffed a laugh and promptly gestured at her leg.

"Is that right? You seem to have lost quite some blood, girl" he opted, shoving her back a little. She stopped in her tracks and promptly punched him against his shoulder once again, grinning a childish grin. "You've obviously never had your period" she smirked.

Daryl shrugged "I'm a late bloomer"