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Salvation	By : madnad Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 8392 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Walking Dead universe & Daryl Dixon belongs wholly to Kirkman/AMC. Original character Lilith belongs to me. I make no money from writing of this story and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only. Do Not Repost elsewhere without permission

Chapter List
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The next morning, Daryl leant against the railing of one of the remaining guard towers. The cloudless sky was uncommonly quiet, free of the normal vapour trails from airplanes on their way to far off destinations. Daryl had never been on a plane, or even out of the state. He rarely came this far south, only ever venturing into Atlanta a few times when Merle was in court, or alligator hunting in the plains. He preferred to stay in the mountains of north Georgia where he grew up.
The guard tower near the gate that had been used as a look-out point had been blown up during the Governor's attack, but he always preferred this tower, as it was closer to the cell-blocks. He had made it his space.
As he scanned the perimeter, he noticed over at the far end of the grass area a couple of stained mattresses were propped against a small outbuilding wall and had a target painted in the centre in five concentric circles. He saw Lilith stood about 60 yards from the target wearing her new cargo pants, several arrows stuck in the ground at her feet, firing shot after shot. He was impressed as most of the arrows were hitting the centre circle.
He made his way down and approached her, naturally moving quietly. When he got close he cleared his throat to let her know he was there. It was never a good idea to surprise someone carrying a weapon.
She smiled a little when she saw him. It was a pretty smile, but looked forced. She had a full bottom lip and freckles across her nose. He scowled in return. "A bit rusty, eh?"
"Yep," she replied. "A year ago I was winning regional competitions back home, but now…"
"It's just practice you need and to build up your stamina. You've obviously got skill. Unlike us crossbow users."
Lilith blushed a little but laughed quietly, a more natural smile on her lips. "Yeah, sorry about that."
"It's okay, girl" he answered quietly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I deserved it."
"Yes, you did."
He stood there squinting at her in the morning sun. Her dark hair was again pulled back tightly in a low ponytail, and he could see sunlight reflecting off a few silver hairs that appeared at her temples. She was a handsome woman, and in great shape. She seemed well spoken, educated, and it was more than just her British accent which always sounded more sophisticated to his country ears. What had she been doing in some Georgian backwater?
Silence stretched out between them, broken when she held out her bow towards him. "Fancy a shot at a real bow?" There was a challenging smile on her face.
He smirked slightly and took the offered bow. She had picked a good one, about 32lb. He would have chosen longer limbs since his arms were longer. He nocked an arrow, pulled back, quickly sighted his target and let loose. He hit just left of the bulls-eye. Lilith blew an appreciative whistle, and gave a gentle applause.
"Wow, you're good."
"I know," he replied, then turned back leaving her to her practice.
He grabbed a coffee from the kitchen, and headed back up to the guard tower. He looked over towards the makeshift target range, but Lilith wasn’t there any longer.
Later that day, the sun was quickly heading towards the horizon, although it would be an hour or two before it was fully set. The warmth of the day was still causing a heat haze and the air was full of the sound of crickets and frogs. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the prison compound as he wandered around to the other side of the tower. He froze when he spotted someone running. It was Lilith.
She was running fast along the inside of the fence. He grabbed the binoculars and scanned the fence behind her. Has a walker broke through? He couldn't see what was chasing her. He watched her run right up to the fence at the end of the enclosure, then immediately turn and start running the other way.
Daryl sighed with relief. She was just exercising. The weather was hot and humid, and she looked to be dripping in sweat yet continued to push herself with indefatigable energy. He admired her commitment to fitness, and watched her run the length of the enclosure five times, feeling slightly voyeuristic, yet unable to look away.
***
Her lungs were burning, but her muscles now felt warm and fluid. I'm out of shape, she thought to herself as stitch flared in her side. She walked a few paces, her hands on her hips as she tried to gain her breath back. When the pain subsided, she flopped to the ground, her head hung between her knees. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, but even that couldn't drown out the sound of the ever-present walkers as they hissed insensibly against the barrier. Momentarily, she felt pity for them. They seemed to be suffering, to be in distress. But these are dead things. The mothers, sisters, brothers and sons they once were are gone. They are dead, they just don't know it yet.
Several walkers had started to cluster near where she was sat, so she stood up and started to move. The group immediately broke up as a couple of them attempted to follow her, but with half rotted limbs they couldn’t keep up.
One of the walkers pressed against the fence caught her eye. He must have been in his early 50s when he died. He had a beer gut that hung low over the top of his stained jeans, and dark hair, a lot of which now seemed to have fallen out. She approached the fence slowly. The walker pressed himself forward, the volume of his insane hissing increased. Bloody fingers that were curled into claws tried to reach her through the small holes in the mesh. When she got closer, she could see the dried blood encrusted around his mouth, his breath reeking of putrefaction. His eyes were pale and almost opaque. Dead eyes. Without taking her eyes off him, Lilith reached down to the bowie knife she kept strapped to her thigh, and with her right hand plunged it, almost to the hilt, straight between the dead man's eyes.
She kept a tight grip on the handle, and gave a slight shoving motion. Aided by the creature's own weight, it slid off her blade to fall backwards. Still. Truly dead. A black goo oozed from the wound. Another walker stumbled slightly over the corpse's legs but then took its place at the fence, reaching desperate fingers towards her. Lilith ignored it. She wiped her blade clean on the grass, then slipped it back in its holster. She walked back towards the cell block, and decided it was time to test out the showers.
***
Up in his guard tower, Daryl had witnessed her behaviour. It puzzled him. While it was never a good idea to let the mobs of walkers get too big, she seemed to single one out. It was almost like she had picked him from a line up. He watched her as she marched back indoors, then went back to watching the perimeter.
An hour or so later, he went to get some food. He had been hunting earlier that morning, and had given Beth and Carol two fat possums. One of the Woodbury refugees had looked horrified when he pointed out they were for dinner. He'd eaten worse. He'd seen some rabbits while he was out, but they had been too fast for him. He would get them tomorrow.
As he walked through the mess hall, he saw Lilith at a table. It would be good to have someone who could help with the hunting. Bows were best for this, they were silent, efficient, and you didn’t have to spend half your suppertime spitting out buck shot.
He stopped opposite where she was sat on her own, a little away from a group. She paused eating her meagre supper.
"Tomorrow morning. First light. Practice out at the range." He nodded to emphasise his point, then left, not giving her chance to respond. There were too many people around and he didn’t feel like having a conversation.
He ran to the second level, and to the last cell on the floor. Inside, Beth was pacing up and down trying to comfort baby Judith. The frustrated cries of the youngest in the prison echoed around the block.
He held out his arms when he saw her, and Beth willing handed her over, relief evident on her face.
"Thank goodness you're here. She's really cranky and tired, yet refuses to go to sleep."
Daryl looked down at the red-face contorted in anger, her bottom lip pouting as she wailed at the world.
"Hey there lil' Ass-kicker." He looked at Beth. "Go get some food, I'll watch her for a time." Within seconds, Judith's cries subsided to hitched sobs. She stared up at him with large navy-blue eyes, and placed a fist in her mouth which she sucked on noisily.
Daryl smiled at the young baby. Even in a world this fucked, it can still produce something as miraculous and beautiful as this baby girl, he thought as he stared at her. He held her close, relishing in the smell of baby powder coming from her head. He paced up and down the small cell, making nonsensical but soothing noises. Eventually, her deep steady breathing told him she was asleep so he placed her gently into the bassinette.
"You're very good with her," said a quiet voice behind him. He turned to see Carol leaning in the doorway. "You're about the only one that can get her to stop screaming."
He smiled a little. "She's just missing her momma, that's all."
Carol looked at the sleeping child, and Daryl saw the pain of losing her own pass fleetingly across her face. There wasn’t one among them that hadn't lost someone close to them, but to lose a child was an agony unmatched, and he wished he could offer comfort.
He and Carol had both lived through abusive relationships, with internal scars as obvious as the external ones. It was natural that they gravitated towards each other. On their first night in the prison, she had joked about them fooling around. He wasn’t entirely sure if she had been serious or not. He cared for her deeply, as he did all his new family, but she was his best friend, his sister, and his mother all rolled into one.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, and he knew she was talking about Merle. His face darkened and he walked past her. She placed a hand on his arm stopping him.
"I'm fine," he insisted.
"Liar."
He pushed past her gently. "I'm goin' to see if there's any of that possum stew left."
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Salvation