Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction Blog Hop: A Cherokee Rose
Ruth Long and her co-sponsors, Lisa McCourt Hollar and Sarah Aisling are running a blog hop featuring The Walking Dead’s Daryl Dixon. Rules are simple: Post 500-1000 words of original fan fiction featuring the baddest crossbow-wielding zombie-killing fangirl-squealing motherfucker to ever come on screen. The Cherokee Rose is the name of their lovely contest where you can find complete rules and rafflecopter giveaway here.
Now I love Daryl Dixon as much as the next red-blooded hetersexual American male, but I wanted to take him somewhere a little different than what you’re used to seeing. He kills zombies. He kicks ass. He takes names. But is he understood?
HOW I SURVIVED THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE: TIPS FROM DARYL DIXON
by J. Whitworth Hazzard
Transcript – Interview – 09-30-2059 – Subject: Daryl Dixon Age: 68
Project Osiris – Case File #448
JH – Dr. Jerard Hannoh.
DD – Daryl Dixon
[muffled, chairs moving, coughing]
JH: Thank you for coming, Mr. Dixon. I thought I was going to have to bribe you to get you down here.
DD: You can thank my wife for that. She was going to nag me til I talked to you f…[mumbled].
JH: [chuckles] I understand. I’ve read all your previous interviews so I’m not going to go over ancient history. This project is different.
DD: That’s what they say every time.
JH: We’re building a profile of survivors. A kind of emotional road map for future outbreaks. I know it sounds like psycho babble, but please just humor me for a few minutes. I say a word and you tell me your thoughts as the word pertains to survival.
DD: You don’t need a damn profile. The reason I’m alive—the reason everyone that lived through that-is we were damn lucky.
JH: We know… do you mind?
DD: Suit yourself.
DD: [long silence] Herschel used to pray at night. He believed in hope. Mostly for his daughters I think.
JH: You didn’t?
DD: No. We were living day to day back then. On a tough day, I hoped we could find food. That’s about it. I never put any energy into thinking about the future. It never seemed like it mattered.
DD: Yeah, there’s some stock in that. There was quite a few times Rick got the drop on folks that saved his life. And ours. Of course, Andrea was a bad ass but that didn’t help in the end. I don’t know. Plenty of times I was on my own and it wasn’t skill that brought me home.
JH: Instinct then?
DD: Everyone that survived the first couple of days learned quick. I don’t know if you call it instinct if we all had it. Maybe it was always there. Haven’t seen a walker in a while but I still get a twinge when they’re about. Something in your gut when you hear ‘em.
JH: You still go out in the zone?
DD: My grandson likes to go. I go along with him and pretend to be impressed. The old walkers are pretty slow now. Doesn’t take much to put ‘em down. Still, I pass along tips when I can. It’s just not the same without my rig though.
JH: What happened to your crossbow?
DD: Finally up and broke in the Battle of Regis Valley. I never could find the parts to fix it. My daughter bought me a fancy compound bow last year with the pin sights and everything. Ain’t the same.
JH: Sorry, we’re getting off track. Anger.
DD: Anger? No. Anger makes you stupid. I fell down that well a few times myself, but Carl… that’s why we lost him. He couldn’t let go of it. Parted ways after Fort Collins when he drew down on Rick. I figure that’s what finally did Rick in. Carl’s probably still out there killing somewhere. He was good at it. But that ain’t survival.
DD: [sighs] I guess. It was easy to be on the wrong side of that back then. Too many liars. People were always asking you to pick sides. Choose. Always seemed like guns were drawn when that choice had to be made too. F[cursing].
DD: Value? What do you mean by that?
JH: What does it mean to you?
DD: [long silence] We never shared the same values. Herschel, Lori, T-Dog, Andrea, fucking Dale. We ‘bout came to blows more than a few times over stupid shit. But… [shuffling] I kept coming back. I stayed with them because they valued me. They needed me. Rick needed me. I don’t know what would have happened with my life if the Walkers never came, but I never felt… needed, valued, before. Growing up, I was on my own. It was different for me. When we found that group in Atlanta, I felt…important. I guess that made it easier to fight back.
JH: I think I have what I need. Last one. Family.
DD: That’s the key, ain’t it. I never would have guessed we’d be a family, all of us. We’d lose one and a new one would fill in the hole. But we kept fighting for each other, more than we ever fought for ourselves. I guess that’s the real secret. But you know what… that was luck too. We were lucky to find each other in that mess.
JH: Was it luck? Or fate?
DD: How the hell should I know?
[Door opens] CD: Are you done? Lakie’s coming to dinner tonight. I need to get to the store.
DD: Just a minute, Carol. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’ve got to go, Doc. Having family over for dinner. Senator Ass Kicker is important people, you know. Thanks. It was… interesting. [drops mic, door slams]