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Grace heart rams against her chest as she stares wide eyed at the two men with smug smirks across their faces. Grace glances back at Rick as the one of the men sits down at a table and starts pouring himself a drink.
"I'm Dave. That scrawny looking douche bag there is Tony," Dave introduces the duo.
"Eat me, Dave," Tony snaps back, throwing his head back and letting out a loud laughter.
"Hey, maybe someday I will. We met on I-95 coming out of Philly. Damn shit show that was," Dave explains and Glenn bobs his head, engaged in every word that Dave says.
"I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people," Glenn smiles widely, leaning over the counter.
"Rick Grimes."
"Grace Rhett."
"How about you, pal? Have one?" Dave asks, glancing over at Hershel and holding out the bottle of liquor.
"I just quit," Hershel informs him, shaking his head and Dave grins widely.
"You've got a unique sense of timing my friend," Dave comments and Hershel shrugs his shoulders.
"His name's Hershel. he lost people today, a lot of them," Rick reveals and Dave lowers his head.
"I'm truly sorry to hear that. To better days and new friends and to our dead, may they be in a better place," Dave announces, before quickly downing the drink. He leans over and Rick's eyes shoot to the gun stuck in the back of his jeans.
Rick glances over at Grace and she gulps. Dave glances back at Grace and Rick, a smirk tugging on his face.
"Not bad, huh? I got it off a cop."
"I'm a cop," Rick replies dryly and Dave's white teeth wink at Rick.
"This one was already dead," Dave suggests and Rick cocks an eyebrow.
"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia," Rick examines, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It feels like we're a long way from anywhere," Dave comments sternly.
