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Survival Isn't An Option	By : Pilgrim Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 6774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters from the series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Isabelle rolled her head to stretch her neck, ignoring the all too familiar cracks and watched as Daryl finished packing his rucksack before he started tying cooking utensils to the outer elastics. She frowned, she wasn’t aware they were going camping… he met her expression with a lop sided grin.
“We need to clear the walkers, a night away could be necessary,” Daryl pointed out.
“Oh, sure that’s a good idea?” Isabelle whispered, half cursing herself for the comment.
“No but the deer herd’s headed away from the prison,” Daryl informed her calmly as he picked up his crossbow, slinging the rucksack over his shoulders. “I spotted them a couple of nights ago, we’re going to be hard pressed to catch them as it is.”
“Oh,” Isabelle contemplated her options.
          Going on a hunt was one thing, going out for a night in the wilderness was another. What if they were ambushed again? There were more walkers now, her thoughts trailed off as she followed him outside, shouldering her own pack. Daryl tied the rucksack into place and dropped onto his motorcycle, they were obviously going quite a way out then. She licked her lips nervously and tied her rucksack on. Beth stepped up and smiled kindly as she held out some small cakes.
“Just a little treat,” She whispered sweetly, smiling at Daryl as he took them and instantly snapped one up.
          Beth turned her attention to Isabelle, who by now was sure that her face would be as pale and sickly looking as she was feeling. She pulled her into a hug, arms tight about her as if to squeeze all of the concern and worry away. Isabelle returned it, not feeling particularly comforted but smiling back none the less. The girl meant well but she wondered just how aware she was of what it was like out there. Soft fingers squeezed her own, callouses from the work she had done pressing into her own.
“Thank you Beth,” Isabelle whispered.
“Come back, both of you,” Beth reached for Daryl’s hand also.
“We’ll be back Beth, come on Belle, daylight’s running out,” Daryl revved the motorbike into life as she dropped onto the back.
          Isabelle cast one worried look back at Beth before wrapping her arms about Daryl and watching silently as the world slipped past. From the concrete jungle of the prison they raced into the sprawling, wide open plains beyond. The further they went from the prison the thinner the crowds of walkers came until they barely saw one an hour. A gas station appeared on the horizon, Daryl nodded towards it and Isabelle looked more carefully for signs of walkers or humans. They were both just as dangerous now. There was no guarantee of fuel but it was always worth investigating. Carefully they rolled the bike onto the forecourt, Daryl heading for the pumps as Isabelle headed for the store, determined to dig out any potential supplies.
          Pressing her face against the glass she peered through. There was no sign of life, although the shelves were disturbed as if they had already been raided. There could still be a use in looking though and her hand landed on the door handle. Cautiously she pushed it open, her other hand on her dagger. She pulled it free silently and raised it defensively, the muscle memory Daryl had instilled in her serving her well. Making her way through the shelves she found no signs of movement and slowly turned her attention to the remaining items. Dust had long settled on the units and products, she brushed some from a packet of toothpaste and happily rescued it into her pocket. Several packets of painkillers and other tablets also made their way into her pockets. She held two cans of tuna as she stepped back outside to Daryl. He was leaning against his bike, admiring the sun or the countryside she couldn’t tell but his attention was definitely not on her.
          Her eyes roved over him, a thrill of the bad boy biker look shot up and down her spine. By the time her eyes had returned to his face he was watching her warily. Colour shot to her cheeks as she cleared her throat and stepped up, offering him a tin. He took one look at it before ripping the lid off and downing the contents. Isabelle followed suit, trying and failing to be more dignified.
“No gas, we’ll go a few more miles then we’ll still have enough to get back,” Daryl informed her.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to stay out all night in the wilds?” Isabelle queried again, she’d been fighting her nerves down for hours. “This is a good place to stop, we can seal up the shop well enough to last us a night and then go on at dawn.”
          Daryl watched her quietly, wiping his finger around the inside of the tin to get the last of the flakes. His eyes took in the garage and the surrounding area. She knew he was contemplating the idea. If they continued on there was no guarantee of any solid or defensible position further up the road. They were nowhere near as far out as he wanted to be though. She could see it in his eyes, that wander lust to go further and her heart sank as he dropped back onto the motorbike and stared at her as he revved the engine into life again. With a sigh she stepped up and dropped herself onto the bike behind him, her arms around his waist again. Well, at least there were some perks to continuing.
Isabelle stirred stiffly, a branch digging into her rib cage as she grunted and rolled over in the leaves. Blearily she glanced around the clearing and spotted Daryl a few feet away relieving himself behind a bush. She moaned and turned over to her other side, determined not to move yet although she’d love for that branch to go away. Pulling the blanket up she tried in vain to block out the rising light of dawn and grumbled as someone pulled it lower again. She glared out of one eye at Daryl as he placed a metal cup directly in front of her nose. Coffee, good strong coffee greeted her nose. He’d brought the last of the good stuff!
          Trying not to be too grumpy Isabelle shuffled into a seated position and clasped the mug in her hands. It was warm and dear gods did it smell good. The warmth flooded her body to the core and she ignored Daryl’s look as she made little noises of pleasure. Where the apocalypse was concerned you took what you could get and right now coffee was the equivalent of a godly ascension and no amount of looks were going to deter her from expressing her happiness. By the time the mug was completely drained the sun was up and a faint haze had covered the grass as the nights moisture began to rise. Daryl was already prepped, his crossbow in his arms and arrows freshly sharpened. He held out the arrow quiver for her bow.
“I’ve sharpened them already,” Daryl informed her. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, just let me lace my boots,” Isabelle smiled and pulled her boots on and the multitude of socks.
          Minutes later they were prowling through the woods, Daryl tracking as Isabelle kept her eyes on the horizon. Although there hadn’t been any disturbances in the night it didn’t mean there weren’t walkers nearby, just waiting. Several times she paused and almost lost Daryl, his movements so silent it was difficult to keep track of him unless she was almost right on top of him. No wonder he was so deadly to both walkers and humans. She bumped into him and almost apologised before she realised why he had stopped and her words failed her as her mouth fell open.
          Barely twenty feet away was a woman straddling a man, her hips rolling over his as they both moaned, caught in the passion. Her breasts free and perky and his hands roving over her stomach and chest as she threw her head back and groaned. A flush of heat rolled through Isabelle as she stared at the sight before her. Daryl’s hand pulled her behind a bush so they wouldn’t be spotted. She pressed her back against the foliage, a hand over her chest as her heart beat furiously. Daryl was already moving away from the pair, Isabelle glanced back one last time before following him away. When they were far enough away they paused.
          Lust was racing through her core stronger than it ever had before and Isabelle pressed herself back against a tree trunk. Her fingers pressed into the bark in an attempt to ground herself as Daryl kept an eye on their surroundings. He was already in tracking mode again! How could he so easily dismiss such a scene? Even now her heart was still pounding with the adrenaline of just the memory of the briefest glimpse. Without a thought she walked up to him and held his face in her hands as she pressed her lips to his. He wasn’t responding and she just did not care. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders and they stumbled backwards until he was pressed against a trunk, her body so tightly against his she could have almost been a part of him. Her lips were still attacking his, desperate for some response, some acknowledgement but there was still nothing.
          Isabelle felt herself lose control of her inhibitions as her hands tugged at his shirt and pulled it apart enough to show his chest. Hands landed hard on her upper arms and she smacked her back hard into the trunk shocking her back to herself. With a shuddering breath she stared at Daryl, his eyes entirely unreadable. All she could see was the tension in his jaw and even that didn’t give her any clue as to what he was thinking or feeling. It was either tension from restraint or anger and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know which for fear of disappointment. His grip was almost too tight on her arms and she licked her lips nervously, she shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have let herself get carried away. The bark scratched her back through her shirt and she winced as his grip tightened slightly before releasing her and stalking off.
“I’m…” She began, not sure if she was going to apologise or explain.
          Daryl just raised a finger to his lips and motioned for her to crouch behind him as he primed his crossbow and raised it. Silently she did as she was told, she jumped as the arrow flew and a creature bellowed in pain. Together they crept forwards to where the deer had fallen. A flush of success spread warmly through Isabelle’s heart, they’d done it! An actual deer, they’d have meat for at least a week from the size of it. A flash of movement caused her to draw her bow and knock an arrow, the leaves rustled again and without thought she let the arrow seek whatever was causing the disturbance. Something fell heavily, exchanging a glance with Daryl she knocked a second arrow as he pulled his dagger free and they made their way towards whatever was still thrashing in the bushes.
          A second, smaller deer was writhing in death throes. Her arrow had gone into its chest but not cleanly. She pressed a hand to her mouth feeling mortified at the pain she’d inflicted as its wide eyes rolled. Daryl stepped up, his dagger moving swiftly to the poor things throat. Isabelle turned away, not able to look at it anymore as he pulled the arrow free and handed it back to her.
“It wasn’t a bad shot through a bush Belle,” He pointed out, cleaning the blade on the grass. She nodded, unable to speak for fear she’d lose her coffee.
“I know, just… yeah,” She shook her head. “How are we going to get them both back?”
“Strap them over the back of the bike,” Daryl grunted as he pulled the larger of the two closer. “If they’re too big, we’ll have to cut them down.”
“Cut them down?” Isabelle squeaked, imaging the amount of blood that would be involved.
“Yeah,” Daryl met her shocked gaze, “You’re alright with a deer thigh over each shoulder right?”
          Isabelle stared at him with increasingly worried eyes. Not entirely sure if he was joking or being serious. She did not want blood all over her, she already felt sick just looking at the dead bodies. Rabbits and squirrels were one thing, an animal this size was a different matter though. Those soft eyes as well, accusing her of stealing its life.
“I’m teasing Belle,” Daryl smirked. “Come on, grab that branch, we’ll tie them up and carry them back to the bike.”
          Releasing a shaky breath she grabbed the branch and pulled it towards the legs of the first deer. Between them they tied the legs around and dragged the second deer over awkwardly attaching that one also. Daryl motioned for her to kneel and take the other end of the branch over her shoulder. Instantly she doubted herself, she was stronger than she had ever been but it was still not up to levels of the rest of the people here. Ballerinas were not built for lifting weights. Nervously she shouldered the branch as Daryl did the same at the other end. She was going to cave, her shoulder was going to break… the weight pressed into her collarbone hard as they lifted. Slowly they made their way through the woods, negotiating the dips and fallen branches that threatened their feet.
          Not a moment too soon, the glint of the motorbike caught the sun. It was just a few more feet and not a moment too soon. Isabelle ignored the burning pain in her shoulders and wished they were already there. Finally Daryl motioned for them to lower the deer. With a groan of relief Isabelle let her end of the branch drop down to the floor and instantly pressed her fingers into the indentation the weight had left in her frame. A hand joined hers, a thumb pressing straight into the source of the discomfort. She moaned at the pressure release of the knot, he was good with his hands. Why had she never had this done before? Of all the people that had worked on her body to remove aches and pains none had felt as good as this.
          It was over far too quickly and she moaned at the loss of contact. He was already doing something else, her eyes fluttered open to the scene of him freeing the deer’s legs from the branch. Quietly Isabelle packed up the saddle bags with the bows and arrows before pulling free some extra rope. It didn’t take long to get them on board and for them to be coasting back to the prison flushed with the success of their hunt.
“Do you realise this was the first outing we had without incident?” Isabelle called over the wind and roar of the engine.
“Yeah, mostly,” Daryl called back.
“What do you mean, mostly?” Isabelle questioned, had something happened over night that she had slept through.
“Well we did walk in on that couple,” Daryl pointed out.
          Isabelle felt her cheeks colour as she remembered what had transpired after that accident. She’d almost forgotten with the trauma of downing the deer. How could she have forgotten, she’d pushed him back against a tree and almost raped him with her insistence at being close to him. She glanced down at her arms, there was slight bruising from where he’d pinned her arms back to her sides. Shame coloured her cheeks this time. She willed the bike faster so she could flee into the safety of her cell and hide from the world around her and the knowing look of Daryl. It was at least unlikely he would tell anyone and she wasn’t about to admit to her scandalous behaviour.
          What was it about Daryl that made her lose her senses so completely? Whenever she was around him she wanted nothing more than to be by him, near him, touching him. It was going to drive her insane. This drama was going to destroy her from the inside out. No reaction had ever been so strong. Her eyes drifted into the wilderness around them, her arms around Daryl it didn’t look threatening. For a moment she wondered if she should go away from the group, if she would be safer away from Daryl.
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Survival Isn't An Option