Impulse

                                    

                                          
I usually have a hard time at writing sweet things, but I feel pretty good about this one.

                          


                          
You froze. You glanced back at the archer, "D'you hear that?" you asked him in a harsh whisper. 
                          
  Daryl strained his hearing. "Heard somethin'." 
                          
  You'd been venturing out with Daryl for tracking lessons for quite some  time. He'd been somewhat opposed to the idea at first, not liking the  idea of you wandering around outside the walls, but you'd worn him down.  Now, you were getting quite good at reading sign and he had noticed  that you seemed to be much more observant, vigilant as you moved through  the trees. Your footsteps were nearly silent. 
                          
  You straightened up, turning from the trail of the deer you'd been  tracing, and Daryl watched as you turned to the side, your eyes lifted  to some unknown distant point in the trees. 
                          
  "What is it?" he asked, noticing the slightly anxious look on your face. 
                          
  You shook your head almost imperceptibly. "I don't know. It's just a  feeling more than anything." You glanced back at him and were met with  his steady blue eyes. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment.  "Come on," you said, stepping away from the deer trail and moving in the  direction you thought the sound had come from. 
                          
  You didn't have to go far before you heard the sound again, and this  time it was much clearer. Your wide eyes met Daryl's, his brow heavily  furrowed. Your stomach twisted. You turned and increased your pace. 
                          
  You moved through the brush as quietly as you could and finally you saw a  shape looming ahead. It was an abandoned house, more of a shack really  than anything. The sound was clear now as you crouched at the edge of  the lot. Daryl knelt beside you and you exchanged a harried glance with  him. 
                          
  It was a baby crying and it was coming from inside the house. There were  about a dozen walkers beating on the rotten woods of the dilapidated  structure. It looked like it wouldn't be long before they broke in. 
                          
  Daryl worried his bottom lip with his teeth. "S'a lot of walkers," he murmured. 
                          
  You gulped and looked back. "We have to do something." 
                          
  He sighed, hesitating, his eyes flickering between your face and the group of the dead. 
                          
  You couldn't wait anymore. There was a swell of urgency growing in your  chest, like a high tide rushing in. You swore under your breath and  unsheathed the knife at your hip. You rushed out of the brush and right  toward the walkers. 
                          
  Daryl scrambled up to follow you. 
                          
  You plunged your knife into the skull of the first walker lurching at  you and immediately repeated the action with another. As you pulled your  knife out, you landed a kick into one of the dead who was grappling for  you. 
                          
  Daryl was soon beside you, slashing and stabbing just like you were to clear the way to the building. 
                          
  By the time you were done, you were drenched in sweat and Daryl looked  at the circle of now still corpses around you. There was a spray of  walker blood across your neck. He was about to scold you for rushing in,  but he was taken aback by the number you had killed, and you weren't  done with your somewhat frantic mission. 
                          
  You charged to the door and saw that it was splintered from the latch.  They'd almost broken through. You turned the handle and pushed inside.  You froze with just one foot inside the small house. 
                          
  Daryl looked in past you, over your shoulder. 
                          
  There was the desperately wailing baby, still swaddled to its mother in a  makeshift carrier. She was dead. You made a lunge toward the infant,  but Daryl's hand clasped your shoulder gently and stopped you. You  glanced back at him, your eyes glistening with tears and your expression  pure desperation.