Disoriented

"To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Another night had passed, the rising sun signaling a newly dawned day. It was still very early in the morning when I decided to end my unsuccessful attempts to get some sleep. My limbs felt tired as I peeled myself out of the sleeping bag, stretching them with slow movements.

"Kat," I heard Alex say, standing in front of the tent like my personal alarm clock. "Kat!" he repeated louder when I didn't answer right away.

"Geez, I'm awake."

Without permission, he opened the zipper, peeking through the small hole. "Rick wants to see you."

Grumbling, I flipped him the bird. Even if the sheriff was the Dalai Lama himself, I couldn't care less.

"Come on, Kat", he tugged at the sleeve of my top, "don't be like this."

I groaned in annoyance. "I love you, but you make it really hard at times." Especially now.

His eyes roamed around the inside of my small tent, inspecting my few belongings, before staying glued to the revolver next to the sleeping bag. "You're sleeping with a gun?"

What kind of question was that? Of course, I was sleeping with a gun. I didn't understand why he got so worked up about this. Anyone around you could come at you at any time. Better be safe than sorry.

"It's called safety measure, Alex."

Disbelief was painted on his face, making me feel uneasy. Was I acting abnormal? Was it strange that the feeling of the cold metal of a gun soothed me and helped calming my nerves?

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm not judging you, Kat." Really? It sure looked like it.

I felt his gaze boring into my back as I put on the thigh holster. "What?"

"You're safe here", Alex stated, "we're looking out for each other, you know."

"I didn't have that privilege." In the past couple of weeks, I've had to take care of myself. Breaking out of this pattern was easier said than done.

"I'm aware of that, it's just-"

"Rick wanted to see me...", I interrupted, getting back to topic, and leading the way. "So, let's get it over with."

At one of the cars, I spotted the well-rested sheriff, neatly groomed and in full uniform, standing at the hood. In front of him laid out my map, Shane and Glenn staring at my several colored markings.

"You wanted to talk to me," I said dryly, getting the men's attention.

They didn't like the sight of me fully armed, you could tell it by their watchful eyes that scanned my every move. Shane's hand instinctively hovered over the gun on his belt, as I approached the four men, including Daryl, who was leaning against a pick-up in healthy distance.

"Ya gave her weapons", Shane and Daryl called out in unison, their accusation directed at Rick. Hands firmly around his crossbow, the hunter's eyes watched me, stalking me like prey.

"Really?" I groaned in frustration, withstanding their gaze, "We're way past that. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now." Even though I couldn't blame them. We were strangers, after all. My connection to Alex being the only reason why we didn't go straight for each other's throats.

"I don't like your arrogance," Shane replied with a snarky remark.

Alex grabbed my wrist, stopping me from doing something stupid, like punching the guy's face.

"And I don't like your face," I shot back, "some things just can't be helped." Shane's attitude triggered me, and that pissed me off even more.

Rick's friend was easily irritated, which resulted in him taking my comment quite personally. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders strained as he took a massive step forward.

"Le'me tell you somethin'..."

"Stop it. Now!" shouted Rick and Alex simultaneously.

I looked at the sheriff. "How about putting your dog on a leash?"

Glenn snorted, instantly regretting that he'd lost his cool. "Sorry."

"God, Kat! Shut up!", Alex clutched my forearm, silencing me in an instant. He didn't find it funny one bit.

"You're done?" Sheriff Rick looked at his psycho friend and then at me. We both fell silent. "Good."

After our little dispute, we gathered around the map. "So Kat, why the CDC?" Rick's index finger pointed to the red circle marking the destination.

For a moment I considered lying, coming up with some excuse, but the hopeful glint in my brother's eyes made it impossible for me to fool them. After carefully thinking this through, I addressed the next words directly to Alex. He deserved the truth more than anyone.

"Jacob Michaels," I began, "you remember Dad's old colleague, don't you?"

A nod from him confirmed my assumption. "He and Dad have always had these wild conspiracy theories."

"Anyway, he had been in contact with Jacob before the phone lines went down. Dad remembered him saying something about the CDC...", I exhaled sharply before continuing my story, "thought it would be our best shot...we never made it there."

Alex seemed hesitant, and judging by the skeptical faces of the others, so did they. "Sounds risky, Kat. We don't even know if the Center still exists. It could be a dead end."

"We won't find out unless we try."

His fear was understandable. None of us could tell if the CDC had already been overrun, but this camp had been attacked by walkers before. It wouldn't stop.

"They're starting to get out of the city," I pointed out, "they can't find anything to eat, so they'll move on."

It was very important to make my brother understand the seriousness of the situation. "The attack a few days ago was only the beginning."

These freaks might be stupid and driven by instinct, hunger being their greatest motivator. On their own, they were easy to kill, but when they came in herds, an encounter was fatal.

"You were in Atlanta," I looked at Glenn, then Rick, even Shane and Daryl seemed to ponder my words once I gave them a questioning look, "you saw the masses of dead...they won't stay there forever."

My words gave Alex a headache, the inner struggle clearly written on his face. "We've already lost people. This group can't take any more."

I didn't know much about the tragedy. However, the many graves and the pile of burned corpses, left no room for imagination.

For the first time since this discussion has started, Glenn rose to speak, "then we should make sure that there will be no more losses."

"Yeah, Kat's right," came from Rick, the sudden support taking me by surprise.

"Really?", Alex and I questioned in unison.

"We're in danger out here. We have to risk it." Rick seemed determined, unlike Shane, who studied the map with skepticism.

"I don't think we should be making decisions over everyone's heads. This is more than a Sunday drive. People's lives are on the line," he turned directly to Rick, "Fort Benning is also an option we should think about."

Alex rubbed his neck. He was anxious. "Shane and I rarely agree, but I'm with him on this one. We can't drive towards city on a vague guess. We barely made it out alive last time."

His serious expression was now focused on me. "Like you said, city is full of biters. It's a huge risk."

It always has been. Getting up every damn day harbored a risk. And yet we did it. Why stop now?

"Then we should vote," Glenn suggested. It was endearing that he seriously believed that such a thing as democracy still existed. Because if I judged the situation correctly, I would bet my last shirt that the fate of this camp, rested in the hands of the sheriff.

⚚

The conversation ended with mixed feelings for everyone involved. But my brother's lack of support disappointed me the most. I didn't give two fucks if these people thought I was crazy, but I desperately needed my brother to believe in this.

"I can't believe you're siding with that psychopath," I blurted out as I walked alongside him. I could no longer hide my disappointment.

Alex said nothing, staring straight ahead, concentrated on the patrol. I persisted as I couldn't bear his silence. My tugging on his sleeve was simply the last straw. It seemed to be my hidden talent to drive the people around me up the wall. On a regular basis.

"There are no sides, Kat!" he paused, taking a deep breath to ease his nerves, "there is only right or wrong!" With determination that caught me completely off guard, he threw the words at me. "This plan is a suicide mission!"

I was aware that his loss of composure was due to his fear since I felt the same way. The only difference, I was much better at hiding it.

Alex took a deep breath. "I had been alone for so long, Kat."

His pained words confirmed the guilt I had been feeling this whole time.

The grip on his weapon tightened until his knuckles turned white. "Dad was gone...you were gone."

His unintentional accusations were like a hard punch in the stomach, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. Although Alex didn't want to blame me, deep inside he'd felt abandoned by his own family. Our ignorance didn't change anything. Though I wish it would.

"I had nothing to live...to fight for," his eyes met mine, sadness lingering in them, "and now I'm afraid of losing this camp...this group...the reason I wanted to keep going...and I'm scared of being alone again."

Lost in thought, he moved the dry leaves on the forest floor with the toe of his boot. At that moment, I saw the little vulnerable boy from my childhood in front of me.

"I can't do this again."

"We have each other, Alex," I tried to make him understand, to remind him of what we were. Family. "It's you and me against the world, remember?" That's what we swore to each other when we were kids. We were all it needed to give this world the damn middle finger. At least, that's what I thought. But Alex showed no reaction, didn't even look at me.

Even when I tried to reach him again. "I'm your sister...your family."

I tried to hold on to the thought, but the fear of his answer was killing me inside.

"Alex?" It was like a desperate cry for confirmation.

"It's probably better if we split up for now", he said with a blank expression. Alex tried to come up with an excuse for the sudden change in plan. "This way we cover more parts of the area."

We both knew it was bullshit. He wanted distance.

"Understood," I muttered crestfallen.

As I checked the revolver for ammunition, I thought about the words Alex hadn't said out loud. I'd been so sure that nothing had changed between us. Apparently, I'd been wrong.

"Hey." The guilty sound in his voice sent shivers down my spine. It was the sign that too much remained unsaid. "Take care."

I couldn't bring myself to smile, though I could feel the corners of my mouth instinctively move up a little. "You know me."

His smile seemed forced, but in the end, it was the will that counted. "Yeah..."

⚚

This whole thing was a total mess.

I just had my brother back and yet it felt like he was slipping out of my fingers again. My mind wandered back and forth as I blamed myself for the emotional distance that separated us and made it so difficult to talk things out. I've changed, and not for the better.

Without realizing it, I had wandered deeper into the forest and gotten off my actual path. My gaze wandered until I caught sight of the tree with a heart carved into its bark. It was the third time in one hour. At that moment I knew I was lost.

"I hate this," I grumbled, reluctant to admit I'd made a mistake by not paying enough attention to my surroundings. With concentration I tried to reconstruct my last steps but couldn't recognize anything familiar. There were trees. Bushes. More trees. More bushes. Everything looked the fucking same. That was the reason why I had always stayed close to the roads, to avoid losing my bearings.

I weighed my options. Should I keep going and risk getting lost deeper in the forest, or should I wait for Alex to come back looking for me? There should be a few more hours before dusk, I guessed. A night in the open was nothing new, but the lack of equipment made it an experience I would be willing to live without.

"Fuck," I cursed again and stomped angrily. This day was destined to suck. I shouldn't have gotten up in the first place.

A sudden rustle behind me ended my monologue and made my hand move reflexively to the thigh holster. Finger on the trigger, I waited, pricked up my ears and kept a very close eye on the trees. My whole body was on high alert and every muscle tensed. The adrenaline that flooded my organism did a great job, sharpening each of my senses to the max.

"I'm waiting, asshole" I said provocatively, pointing the barrel of my revolver at the rustling spot. On cue, a small rabbit jumped out of its hiding place. My shoulders relaxed and a smile flashed across my face as I slid the revolver back into its holster.

"You gave me quite the scare, buddy." Cautiously, I crouched down and eyed the cute creature. It reminded me of a pet rabbit I'd owned as a child.

The little forest dweller wiggled his ears while his dark, beady eyes looked at me curiously. Surprisingly, he made no effort to run away.

"You're a brave little guy, aren't you?"

His cute nose bobbed up and down in a characteristic manner before an arrow shot near my shoulder piercing the fluffy body, sending it slumping lifelessly to the ground.

"No need talkin' to ya food first," I heard Daryl's dry voice before he pulled the arrow from his freshly killed prey.

Completely stunned, I stared at the man who had killed my new friend without batting an eye. Blood dripped from the fatal wound as he picked the animal up by its hind legs and threw it over his shoulder.

"I wasn't planning on eating it," I clarified once the first shock had been stomached.

Questioningly, he raised an eyebrow. "Watcha doin' here?"

The cold aura radiating from Daryl made me shiver. This man was a freaking ice block.

"Patrol", I replied. Only over my dead body would I admit that I had lost track.

The right corner of his mouth lifted slightly, barely visible, but I knew immediately that he had seen through my lie. Again.

"Got lost, huh" he corrected arrogantly.

My lack of orientation made me uncomfortable, as I didn't want to appear like someone who relied on others for help. But in this case, there was no denying it, and that bothered me even more.

Admitting defeat, I brushed the dust off the legs of my grey cargo pants and straightened up. "I prefer to use the term 'disoriented'".

"Whateva."

I studied Daryl for a moment before grinning at him. "You didn't happen to rush to my rescue, did you?"

He clicked his tongue. "Tsk."

"Yeah, didn't expect it."

Another rustling sound interrupted our extremely convulsive human interaction. The uninvited guest growled, his hands outstretched as he lurched in our direction, ready to receive his next meal.

"Shit," Daryl grumbled as he spotted the freak to his left.

He immediately dropped his food and placed the crossbow vertically on the ground, stretching the string with both hands. Mesmerized, I stared at his exposed arms, skillfully reloading his weapon. A mixture of sweat and dirt accentuated his bulging biceps and made my mouth water. Pull yourself together, Katrina, I told myself, giving me an inner slap.

In a split second, he had the crossbow back in position. He slightly opened his mouth to take a deep breath.

Long before his finger could touch the trigger, my knife landed in the rotten walker's right eye. The knees buckled sending the freak crashing to the ground just inches from Daryl's feet.

My mouth and throat were dry as I croaked a quick, "You're welcome."

"Don't need no help," Daryl returned curtly.

I was upset. "You mean 'thank you'."

With a disdainful snort, he picked up the dead rabbit and turned his back on me. "Keep dreamin', Brooks."

I'd already assumed that Daryl wasn't a man of big words, keeping conversations rather short. He rationed his words like food. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing since I wasn't very talkative myself. Therefore, the walk back to camp was dominated by silence, only broken by the rustling of leaves under our boots. Out of boredom, I fiddled with the knife, twisting, turning it, and running my fingers carefully along the blade until I reached Dad's initials. "T.B.". It was the only thing besides his necklace that I had taken with me after his death. I was deep in thought when I felt Daryl's intense gaze glued to me.

"Something wrong?" I looked at him in question, not knowing what was going on in his head. He was still a puzzle to me, and not one of those easy crosswords in magazines. Daryl was one of the tricky ones. The kind you were never sure you could ever fully solve. It almost made it interesting.

"Do I have something on my face?" My attention was still on him, as I waited patiently for a response. But Daryl was apparently allergic to conversation.

I was so focused on him that I paid little to no attention to the trail. A root eventually caused me to stumble. Before I could resign myself to the fact that my body was about to collide with the hard ground, Daryl grabbed my upper arm and pulled me back to my feet. For a split second, he locked eyes with me, his fingers gripping my arm tightly. I couldn't tell if it was my malnutrition, which had caused severe weight loss, or if it was Daryl's huge hands. But he was able to fully encompass my upper arm with one single hand. Captivated by the unexpected warmth of his touch, I stared into his piercing blue eyes until he cleared his throat, breaking the contact.

"Watch where ya goin', woman," he said with annoyance before loosening his grip. "How could ya survive this long." It was not so much a question as an arrogant statement. Usually, I had a hard shell from which insults bounced off most of the time. And yet, something in his look stirred me up.

"Death as a constant companion was a good motivator," I snapped.

The fact that he judged me so easily went against my grain.

"You don't know a damn thing about me." Just like I knew nothing about him.

Daryl snorted contemptuously. A sound I had heard shockingly often in the last twenty-four hours.

"Don't need to."

I halted and looked at the man who seemed to be holding a very personal grudge against me.

"What's your fucking problem?"

Unwillingly, my voice had grown louder. That he had managed to get under my skin so quickly drove me mad. What happened to 'not giving a fuck of what those people think of me'?

I could hear his heavy breathing as his shoulders gently rose and fell, the grumpy redneck not even bothering to look at me.

"Not a man of big words, huh?" I provoked him, trying desperately to get a reaction from him. Unfortunately, the man controlled himself surprisingly well, a trait Shane could use a little more of.

"Ya like gettin' yerself in trouble, don't ya?" Daryl suddenly said, even though I had already accepted his silence. "Ya' always got a cool quip up ya sleeve," he turned around, "always lookin' for confrontation," his look got even gloomier as he took another step forward, "and ya tryin' hard to not show fear."

I swallowed hard. Daryl was only a few inches taller than me, but his intimidating aura definitely did the rest.

"Maybe ya can fool the others with the tough façade", cautiously, he continued speaking as soon as he saw my hand, which had automatically moved to my revolver, "but I can see how scared ya really are."

He had deliberately pushed me back to expose the fear that had been buried deep inside of me. My reaction was proving his point.

At that moment, I felt transported back. A face that I'd desperately tried to suppress forced its way back into my consciousness and appeared in front of my inner eye. The serious eyes, the scar on his face, and the perpetually mischievous grin that had lined his lips whenever he had the pleasure of torturing others sent shivers down my spine. The phantom smell of his lousy aftershave crept up my nose, turning my stomach as I thought back to those agonizing minutes in his room. These were memories that had marked me forever. None of them I could ever forget, but I had managed to bury them deep inside me. Until now.

Taking a deep breath, I shook off those memories to regain the upper hand. I was familiar with situations like this. It was not the first time I'd felt cornered. I wouldn't let a few threatening looks and intimidating words break me. Not here. Not now. And certainly not in front of Daryl.

I cleared my throat before taking my hand off the gun handle, looking him straight in the eyes. Something sparked in them as soon as he absorbed the determined glint in my eyes.

"Like I said..." I chose my words wisely. No clever remark, no irony hidden behind it, "You don't know nothing about me."

Things will get pretty dark in the upcoming chapter.
So be prepared and look out for the triggerwarnings.

Thank you for reading this story, I hope you like it.

Lots of love.