Consumed | 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

sixteen

"Who the fuck are you." I stand up pulling my gun up. Daryl stands close behind me with his crossbow up.

"Who the hell are you?" One man answers back as they stare at us. The others behind us attend to Hershel as I move closer to the men.

"Come on out." I aim my gun at the leader's head, "Real slow." The group of men walk into the room as they stare at Hershel on the floor. They look almost scared.

"What the hell happened to him?" One asked.

"He got bit." Daryl spits.

"Bit?" The man with long hair asks as he grips onto the gun in his pocket. Are these idiots fucking stupid? Taking the safety off my gun, I stand taller as I aim at the one handling the gun in his hand. T-Dog stands up and aims his gun at the man as well. The guy points his gun at T-Dog and I step closer to him. "Ain't nobody needs to get hurt." Daryl takes a step in front of me. The man looks between us as he now aims his straight at my chest.

Daryl tries to guard me but I refuse to let him as I aim my gun at the man's dick and cock my eyebrow at him. He's more than likely cares more about his dick than himself anyway. "You have any medical supplies?" Glenn barges past them and into the room they were situated in before.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" One asks Glenn as the door help together by a small pipe banged loudly. The walkers moaned as they banged to get in. "Who the hell are you people, anyway?" The leader asks as he continues to hold his gun at me.

"Don't look like no rescue team." The hillbilly looking one exclaims. Maybe Daryl might've known him from before since they both came from hillbilly wonderland. But really no shit we weren't no rescue team.

"If you're waiting for a rescue team," I snort, "you're wasting your time." Rick hauls Hershel with the help of Maggie onto a steel table with wheels.

"T, the door." Rick shouts.

"Are you crazy?" One says, "Don't open that." T pulls the metal piece out of the door and a guard roams in. He pulls the helmet up and cuts right through the bottom of his jaw before discarding the walker on the floor. "Daryl, Kaia." Rick calls us. Removing my gun from aiming at the man's dick, I run over to the door to guard the others from walkers as we try get Hershel back to the cell. We run through the tombs dodging the zombies as he hastily make it back. Cutting a corner, we come in contact with a couple zombies but T and I quickly take them out before they could do much.

"Follow the flashlights." Echo down the halls as the men from before try to follow us. I glance back at them and tell the others to go quickly. Unlocking the gate, Daryl swings the gate open for the others to push Hershel in. T-Dog shuts the other gate to the cells as we wait out for the men.

Daryl loads up his crossbow as he props his leg on the seat of the table bench. His muscles flex as he aims for the door. I sit on top of the table next to him with my gun at the ready. Staring at the open door to the tombs, the men emerge from it cautiously. "That's far enough." Daryl clears his throat.

"Cell block C. Cell four, that's mine, gringo." The leader ushers himself more into the room. I move to sit on the edge of the table as he creeps closer. "Let me in." He tells us. Who does this criminal think he is? Like he could tell us what to do. This prison doesn't belong to him, it never has, he just stayed here.

"Today's your lucky day, fellas." Daryl says, "You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go." I bite the side of my cheeks as I try not to smile at his joke.

"Watcha got going on in there?" The 'leader' asks. This guy is really invasive, huh. Does he not shut the fuck up?

"Frankly, that's none of your business." I speak up.