Stray // Daryl Dixon

Lay Your Hands on Me

Glenn, Maggie, and I were on the road again, we were making a run to look for more ammo which we had been running low on. Glenn had found an old phone book in one of the guard towers that had given us information on a few places we could scope out. The three of us including Daryl at the odd time were the only ones to leave the prison. Ever since the Andrew incident Rick never fully snapped back into himself. He spent most of his days running through the prison tunnels, clearing out any walkers he found, section by section.

Glenn pulled our truck up to an old convenience store, the first stop on our list. It was around midday, the sun was high in the sky giving us time to make a few stops for any supplies. I hopped out onto the pavement, the parking lot was littered with trash. I looked around the perimeter, no signs of any walkers, it was fairly quiet.

"Clear outside," I called out.

"Alright, let's take a look," Glenn said, stepping out of the vehicle. Maggie followed close behind me. She looked around, the breeze of the warm Georgian air wisping through our hair.

"It's a beautiful day," she paused.

"A day like today something good should happen," I responded, flashing her a smile.

Glenn grabbed a pair of bolt cutters, clipping off the chains that held the door shut. He swung open the door before a bird came darting at his head, scaring the shit out of all of us. We laughed as Glenn exhaled harshly. It nearly took his head off.

Glenn was the only one to go inside and Maggie and I stood to watch at the door. There was a peaceful silence between us as she kept an eye on Glenn and I looked over the road at the surrounding trees.

"What are we going to do about Rick?" she asked me, carrying concern in her tone.

"As of right now, nothing. Rick will come around, we've all had our moments. It was only a matter of time before the burden he carries caught up to him."

From the corner of my eye, I could see her staring at me, but she didn't respond.

"We just hit the powdered formula jackpot," Glenn said, emerging from the convenience store. He carried a grocery basket full of supplies.

"Oh, thank god."

"I also got beans, batteries, cocktail wieners, and many mustards. It's a straight shot back to the prison from here. I say we have enough we could probably head back early and make it back for dinner."

"I like the quiet though," Maggie said, "back home you can always hear them outside the fence, no matter where you are--"

"And where is it y'all good people are callin' home?" a man's voice caught us by surprise. I turned to see a large bald man standing to our left, his nose was all bloodied up as he held a gun raised over his right arm. The arm looked to be mangled, a stump with a metal object attached to it like a prosthetic arm. At the end of it, he had a knife welded into the base.

We instantly raised our guns in defence, stepping around the back of the car and spreading out.

"Merle?" Glenn asked. Maggie and I looked over at Glenn, questioning how he knew him.

The man began to laugh hysterically, "Wow!" he said as he placed his gun on the ground and raised his hand and metal arm in surrender, walking towards us.

"Hey, back the hell up!" I shouted at him. He looked to be in disbelief.

"Okay, okay, honey!" he laughed, but he continued to press forward.

"You made it?" Glenn muttered to him in what sounded like shock, but when I looked at Glenn's face he seemed disappointed.

"Can you tell me, is my brother alive?" Merle asked.