My feet crunched the leaves as I ran through the trees, trying to reach the yell I'd heard. It was a man yelling at the rotting corpses and he sounded like he needed help. Branches lashed my skin, a couple tearing into my arms, but I continued to run. Sweat was matting my hair to my face and nearly blinding me until I heard the yell again. It was curses wafting through the air that finally brought me to the man. Several of the undead were swarming him as he fought them off the best he could. I quickly pulled my machete and began driving it through skulls.
Blood covered me as I moved swiftly from one to the next. Teeth came within inches of my arm before and arrow pierced its skull, blood splattering over my arm. I yanked my machete out of the corpse attached to it before punching the next one. It's half torn face came at me, but my blade met it before it could chomp at me. The man ran next to me and we quickly made it through the mini herd, nearly getting bit a couple of times. Finally, I watched as the man pulled one of his arrows from a skull and turn towards me.
I could tell he was a primal man, someone made to survive in this damned world. His brown hair was filthy and matted to his soiled face and yet it was more than attractive. His tattered clothes told me he's been on his own for a while now, probably separated from someone. He walked with a form of saunter towards me. His posture was perfection as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and his blue eyes ran over me. "Who're you?"
"Layla Weber. The hell are you doing out here alone?"
"I could ask you the same, darlin'." His voice was deep and snappy. He was watching me with eyes of a hunter, making sure I didn't make a wrong move.
"You need a place to stay? I have a home not too far from here. It even has hot water."
The man ever so slightly raised his head as he considered what I had said. "How many you got with ya?"
"Just me."
When he eyed me this time, it was in disbelief. "You mean ta tell me you done made it out here all alone?" I just nodded. He shrugged. "Ya got good fight in ya. I'll go back with ya for tonight. I gotta find my group though t'morrow."
"Fine with me. I can at least let you clean up and eat before you head out." He nodded. "If you find your group, you can always come back. I have the space."
"We'll see." He started following me back through the trees, until we came into view of my home. It wasn't my original house, but it was my new home. The large stone building was secure, with an escape tunnel through the basement. I had barricaded all the doors leaving only one way in or out, other than the escape route. The man watched as I climbed up onto the awning over the porch before following me. We slipped through a window before I placed the board over top of it.
"Welcome to my home. I believe I have clothes around here that you can wear until I get yours clean."
The man just nodded and looked around. "How long you been here?"
"Six weeks now. How long have you been wandering around out there... um?" I hadn't realized I didn't know his name until then.
"Daryl Dixon. and three days." I nodded and began to show him around the house. It had six bedrooms and three bathrooms along with a formal dining room, large kitchen, and decent living room. It was an open layout with hardwood floors and a half bath off the kitchen. All the bedrooms, other than the master, were upstairs. The master was a suite that included it's own bathroom, but I didn't use it. I stayed on the second floor, blocking the stairs when I slept.
After showing Daryl around, I found him some clean clothes and allowed him to shower. He stayed in for a long while, probably not used to hot water and enjoying it. I smirked to myself and pulled out a bottle of whisky. A good deed deserved a good drink. I had company now, even if it only lasted the night. I was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Maybe he'd even join me, unless he was a sober shit. I doubted it. Daryl seemed like a man with a taste for alcohol and danger. It was honestly a bit of a turn on.
