Fight With You - Daryl Dixon TWD

Chapter 14

Atlanta, Georgia

The truck arrives outside of the city limits, and Daryl turns to T-dog and growls, "He'd better be okay."

"It's my only word on the matter." T-Dog sighs, already done with the conversation. "I told you the geeks can't get at him. The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us."

As quick as the conversation started, it was ended by Glenn slowing the truck to a stop under some sort of bridge, turning in his seat and announcing that we had to walk from this point. We all pile out of the vehicle and begin the trek along the train tracks, back to the clothes shop we'd abandoned Merle on the roof of.

We keep walking till we hit a chain-link fence - which we luckily had the bolt-cutters for - and Rick makes quick work of clipping through the rungs. After we'd all clamoured through, He brought up the question that had been circling my mind since we'd set off from the quarry.

"Merle first or guns?" He says as he ceases his walking. Daryl's head whips around at that, his face contorted in rage.

"Merle!" The redneck throws his arms out in anger, turning his full body to Rick as he does. "We ain't even having this conversation."

Rick turned to Glenn and gave him the decision, seeing as he was the one who knew the area.

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back." Glenn nods, lifting his cap and wiping his forehead before replacing it. "Merle first."

After the confirmation, everyone went quiet again. We snuck down the streets of Atlanta, careful to avoid as much attention as possible as we weaved through cars and buses, silently praying for as much coverage as possible. It was unnerving as if I was taking a stroll through the streets of Atlanta, only every person in said city had just snapped from existence. It was very disturbing. 

There was the occasion that we'd pass a shop that I'd been in, before or after all this is long forgotten in my memory, and more than not there were those shops that I'd meant to raid but never had said opportunity. Too many walkers, too little time.

Which was a damn shame since half the un-raided shops were knock-off Sports Directs filled to the brim with camp gear for the rich, or shoes that would better support my feel than the shitty Adidas trainers ever could. But of course, Suzan and her seven fucking man whores had to shuffle too close and I'd go running for the hills - or in my case, the nearest fire escape.

I spotted the front of the shop and gestured over to it for the others, following as Rick and Daryl lead the way.

They enter the shop first, Glenn and T-Dog and I on their heels. Rick whistles quietly as a walker turns its head to us and snarls. Daryl aims his shot and mutters, "Damn. You are one ugly skank." before sending his arrow through its eye.

We only encountered two other walkers as we make our way quickly through the back of the building and to the staircase, and I let out a tired sigh as they all start running up.

"I hate stairs."

And so I run too.

---

I run into Glenn's back as I reach the top, leaning on him for the second as T-Dog whips out the bolt-cutters and lines them up with the padlock, snapping it and yanking it off, barely pulling the chain away before the redneck barrels through without a seconds thought.