HAZARD,
❨ ii. pieces ❩

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          DARYL DIDN'T EXACTLY feel joyous that they had to accompany the girl. It seemed to him that gathering clothes was actually the very last thing on his to-do list. Following the example of his Uncle Jess, he put his own feelings aside because it was a particularly odd situation.

          A pretty girl without proper attire would surely die with the end of the world rising up to their lives. She was actually an extremely small problem compared to what was in store for them just on their doorstep.

          "Missy," Jess proposed. The girl looked up from her bare feet. "Just hang onto Daryl there. Don't want you getting lost, do we?"

          Daryl eyed his uncle, silently yelling in his face for telling a girl to make physical contact with him. He didn't want the girl getting attached to him, not mentally or physically.

          Then she was. She delicately grasped the clothing on his shoulder. Marley looked at him worriedly, hoping that he wouldn't explode and throw her halfway across the room for touching him.

          Although Daryl was seething inside, he stayed still. He knew his Uncle was just trying to be nice to her. Unfortunately for him, he had to join in.

          They walked out the door and into the front yard. There were about three people, or dead people strolling around.

          Marley couldn't believe what she was seeing. Three "people" sniffed around like wandering dogs. They looked to be something out of a horror movie.

          They were deathly pale, had bloodshot eyes and they're hands shook like it was the winter. When really it was scorching outside. The skin on their faces, despite looking young, seemed to start hanging off the bone of their jaw. All nerves in their faces seemed switched off as they stared vacantly into the air.

          She found herself gripping Daryl's shoulder tighter, her nails digging into her palms through the fabric.

          He looked down the Marley, raising an eyebrow at what she was doing before looking back to the situation at hand.

          Jess raised his crossbow as they walked to the car.

          When one got too close to the man for his liking, he swung at it. All of them heard its neck snap, and its head was stuck looking upwards into the sky. The creature groaned in something other than pain. More like aggravation.

          They rushed the rest of the way to the car, having two normal corpses and an even angrier one on their tails. Daryl shoved the girl into the back of the car, closing the door on her before getting in the passenger side himself.

          Jess, however, seemed glued to the spot beside the drivers door. The three roamers crawling towards him.

          He aimed his crossbow again, shooting it in the heart.

          Nothing.

          This time he aimed for the head.

          Success.

          It dropped to the ground with an almighty thud, and he would have retrieved his bolt if there weren't two other roamers on the way.

          He abandoned it in the roamers brain, clambering into his car himself.

          "Well, damn!" He commented with an amused grin. "Only the head."

          Marley nor Daryl found it very funny like the way Jess did, and they sat back in their seats.

          "Suit yourself," he groaned.

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          They made it to Sedalia and found that a large lorry was blocking their way further into town. It stretched the width of a street, but luckily had a small opening they could climb through on one side.

          "We need ta' find gas," Jess said to Daryl, looking in the rear-view mirror, finding the girl behind him looking at her hands sadly.

          She felt scared out of her mind. More than she had been at least lately. The initial virus terrified her. But now it had gone global and even more horrific, she was surprised she didn't pass out from pure fear any second.

          "Missy, Daryl here is gonna' take you to Molly av'. Do what he says," Jess affirmed, looking to Daryl with warning eyes, who was about to protest.

          Daryl didn't want to be babysitting the stranger they found in their cabin. He was still confused as to why she was in there in the first place.

          The redneck quickly jumped out the car, shotgun in hand. He just wanted to get it over and done with. Get in, get out.

          Jess was going to find the gas. Hopefully, the station hadn't been ransacked of everything. Whilst Daryl would be escorting and protecting the cold barefoot girl so that she wouldn't have to be that way anymore.

          She hopped out the car nervously, nearly toppling over due to her shaking knees. Her hands shook like the roamers from earlier. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she felt attentive and needed to be.

          Daryl held his arm out to her kindly, and unlike him. He thought it would make it easier for the both of them. He knew that if she held his arm like earlier, she wouldn't try to run away as easily without it. It was like a comfort blanket.

          The dancer looked to his eyes, quietly asking for his permission. He nodded his head, saying yes, and she hooked her much skinnier arm around his.

          He only wanted her to grab his shoulder and now he was regretting the decision to let her touch him. Again, he seethed inside.

          She interlocked her hands together, making her grip more secure and safe.

          "Give us an hour," he sighed, annoyed with everyone including himself. He could feel the girl shaking violently despite their contact.

          "Stop shaking girl," he ordered her. "What're you? Elvis?"

          To his surprise, she immediately stopped. She looked to be holding her breath, trying everything she had in her to follow his orders.

          He ignored her odd behaviour and started cautiously walking towards the lorry. Almost dragging the girl with him.

          A mixture of uncertainness and adamance strung through her nerves. Th wanting to run away but also a sense of survival, to stay on her two feet and fight whatever came her away. Those two feelings stayed with her for her whole life. It was the underlining of herself.

          They broke apart briefly to climb over the hood of the lorry. After that, she instantly clung to him.

          What they found on the other side was a desolation. They simultaneously thought about that it happened within a day. It resembled the aftermath of a riot, that tore through the town. Glass shards littered the street, with accompanying broken windows. An overwhelming stench swam through the air that was the result of a burnt building on the right side of the street. White smoke emanated from the rooftop. On top of that was the scent of rotted skin, clinging to their sinuses.

          Marley coughed into her shoulder, eyes squinting from the heat that turned the road into a river of colours without fine lines.

          She trained her eyes on the left side of the street, seeing as her apartment was that way.

          "This happened in a... morning? Day?" she posed quietly, talking more to herself than the man she was attached to. All the people she saw every day. The people she glanced at in passing. They were gone and now it was just her left to pick up her own pieces.

          Daryl replied with a low noise, becoming impatient.

          She gently pushed him the way to her house, but still kept him in front of her. He was her bodyguard at that moment, even if he hated doing it, he did his job well.

          They turned a corner, now looking down Molly Avenue. It wasn't much better than the rest of the town. Still a mess.

          She found her tiny two-apartment complex. It seemed, now, she was dragging Daryl. "Here!" she whispered hastily. Coming to the door, she placed her hand on it, remembering she had her keys in her coat pocket. As she fumbled through them, her elbow knocked the door, causing it to swing open with a loud creak.

          Her whole mind panicked. Her heart rate picked up and she felt it thump wildly in her chest, knocking her lungs out of rhythm. She breathed in quickly and rushed through the doorway. First, going to her neighbours door.

          It was wide open. Where the handle should have been, there was a splintered hole.

          She found her neighbour in their chair. The floral patterns on the cushion faded to a dirty brown. The old women's white haired head didn't move. Marley stayed hushed... and she couldn't hear her breath.

          "Cordelia?"

          Rounding the chair, she came face to face with what she didn't want to.

          "Oh... please... not― no," she whispered to herself painfully, holding her mouth tense.

          Cordelia's wrinkled face now sunk in when it was a lot fuller before. Her eyes white, only slightly open. Her jaw hung downwards. Gaunt. Definitely dead.

          Seeing someone dead was not Marley's favourite thing. She had already seen three others that day, so there was a certain numbness that came with her observation.

          Marley's neighbour never talked to her much, but it still hit her that she was dead.

          She left her be, and walked back out the door closing it behind her.

          Daryl watched her movements. How she was tense in the shoulders, and her eyebrows furrowed in the tiniest way. Her lips were pressed together into a thin line. Her dimples were brought out as she made an expression of distaste. Her hands clenched and unclenched, digging her nails into her hands.

          It appeared to him that the girl had lost a life. Not all of it... just a part of it.

          She climbed the stairs cautiously, each step creaking louder than the other. When she came to the landing, her door was wide open, mirroring the one downstairs. Clambering up the last few steps, her legs carried her quickly into her apartment.

          Surprisingly, it seemed untouched, besides the fact that all her kitchen draws and cupboards were open. All her food was gone. Understandable.

          Whilst Marley gathered some clothes to change into, Daryl only just came into the room, awkwardly standing in the arch of the doorway. He fiddled with his crossbow, unsure of what to do then.

          A female's home was a foreign place to him.

          "S-Sit down... or whatever," Marley said shyly, eyeing his uncomfortable stance. She wiped her sofa briefly, signalling him to get comfortable whilst she disappeared into the bathroom, clothes in hand. The click of the door sounded, and Daryl unleashed a breath he didn't know he was holding.

          He didn't want to sit down. The defiance coming out of him even with such a simple and welcoming command. She was only being nice, but he didn't want to get comfortable. Or comfortable with her.

          He hadn't thought, but now he was, about what would happen to the girl. Would she stay with them? Would she find someone else she knew and go with them?

          Truthfully... he didn't mind if she stayed with them. Something about her seemed befitting. Like her being with him wasn't that strange, but at the same time was confused to how she got to that place.

          Instead of sitting, he chose to look around. First taking a glance at her bookshelf, which held a numerous amount of colours.

          Below it was another shelf. He picked up a white photo frame, earning it some mucky fingermarks on the frame and glass.

          In the picture was a younger version of the girl in the bathroom. Short hair, dungarees, and a floral shirt. Smiling, in between two much older people, with another person above her. The people on the sides of her were obviously her parents. The mother having the same nose and eyes as Marley, whilst the father held only a resemblance to the male at the top of the photo. The young man above Marley was smiling too, the same eyes as her.

          He put it down and turned around. Huffing in boredom, he approached the coffee table. On it was a book. Torn and held papers sticking out of it in all directions. He warily opened it, flipping quickly through it.

          He didn't know how dangerous that book was. The thoughts it held. The memories. Even the pictures could trigger something inside of a certain person to make her have a nervous breakdown.

          The people in the photo frame made appearances multiple times, but so did a few other strangers.

          There was a certain man, who seemed to make his face seen more towards the end. Dark brown eyes and black hair. Under one of the photos, in cursive writing was the letter 'J'.

          He heard some clattering come from the bathroom, and he snapped it shut.

          Straightening back up, he looked to her vanity. Daryl picked up a necklace, observing the turquoise gem at the end.

          "It's my birthstone," a small voice interrupted the silence.

          The hunter dropped the necklace back to the vanity carefully and turned to see her.

          Her face was no longer caked in tear-mixed eyeliner and smudged red lipstick. Her hair wasn't pinned up and sparkling with different pins. Instead now her face was pale and clean, her lips now rosy pink. Her strawberry waterfall of hair fell in relaxed waves. She wore black jeans and a grey jumper.

          In Daryl's opinion, she looked better now. But he didn't understand what he was thinking.

          She nodded at him, amused, then walked around her apartment, picking up various things like, three books, extra clothes, a brush, the picture, and that book Daryl had read skimmed through from the table.

          Daryl wasn't going to say that he read through it.

          She stuffed it all into a purple backpack, putting it on her back and walking closer to him.

          Silently agreeing to go, they strolled out, bouncing down the stairs, Marley in front, Daryl behind her.

          That was the most relaxed they felt that day, but it soon turned sour.

          Marley's breath hitched as a form tread into her view. Just in the open doorway to the complex. She tensed her whole body for a second, as the creature turned towards them, sniffing around like the ones she had seen before. She didn't want to get used to seeing them. She hoped this was the last one she would have to witness.

          Going into action, she jumped, almost stumbled, the rest of the way down, and just as the walker was about to lunge inside for dinner, she grabbed the door and shut it.

          The roamer instantly protested and banged against the door, its shadow moving sporadically in the tiny window at the top of the door.

          She pressed her whole body to the door, struggling to keep it closed.

          Until Daryl helped her, his mind turning its wheels.

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( edited ✓ )