Home Is Your Heartbeat ('Home Is' Book Two - Daryl Dixon)

NATE

The steering judders, and we come to a final stall.

Closing my eyes, I heave out a massive sigh. Then lean back against the headrest.

I've pushed it to the limits for so long. On all those runs while living in Senoia, and over the long stretches of rail track leading to Terminus. Through woodland and other extreme terrains, more recently.

The signs that one of the ball joints was about to give had been staring me in the face for a week. But the blown head gasket has just become the clincher.

There are no workshops or dealerships nearby. No auto club to call for assistance. Now my little Jeep has winged its way to SUV heaven.

Fare thee well, old friend. You were loved and will be missed  💜

Turning to my travelling companion, I give a wry twist to my lips.

"Walkies?"

His little butt shook in anticipation as he licked his lips and let out a slight whine. As if to say....

"Hurry the fuck up then, will you?"

*

If you'd told me weeks ago that my constant companion and best friend would turn out to be a mongrel....whose halitosis matched his flatulence? Well, I'd have said you were cray-cray.

But over the last three of those weeks? This gaseous little guy has kept my worst black dog ever from sinking its fangs in my neck and snapping it completely.

Looking after him isn't as all-encompassing as caring for a baby. Yet he's still a living furry lump who relies on me for love, food, water and lots of pats.

And in return, he's a sympathetic ear during the long nights when I can't sleep. Plus a smelly hanky for mopping up copious amounts of free-flowing tears.

Getting out of the car, he bounded after me. I open the back tray and grab my backpack. Praying it'll hold together for a bit longer until....

"Until what, Derpa?"  I ask myself out loud.

I flop down heavily on the tailgate and give another sigh. While squinting into the trees surrounding us.

Since that awful first day in the hostel with Leo, when the world went to shit? I've relied on getting through the worst by making a plan.

Plans give me a purpose. A reason to keep on hanging in there.

When our life at the prison came to an end, my sole plan consisted of staying alive. Protecting Juju. Finding our family again and moving forward with Daryl....together.

To whatever the future held for us.

It's been eleven weeks since Terminus. There's only Muttley and myself to consider now. However....there's actually very little 'Considering'  being done.

I've been stumbling along almost minute by minute. With no clear knowledge of how each day will pan out.

The thought never even crossed my mind, of returning to places that were familiar to me.

Like the cabin I stayed in with Carol and Ty. Or Vincent's hideaway fortress. Even Senoia and Hatlins Bar. Where I'd spent so long waiting for Guillermo, Jorge, Eduardo....and Leo.

We're in totally unfamiliar territory now. Just moving around from one place to the next, never staying more than a couple of days in each. Gathering whatever I can find to keep Muttley and myself living. But not really alive in my case.