Sneaky

Chapter 61

"I'm Dave." the smaller man, took up a seat at the closest table.

I poured a row of drinks into semi-clean glasses(cleanest I could find), and slid them down the bar, towards Glenn at the end; who had moved behind the counter with me.

"That scrawny lookin' douchebag there is Tony." 'Dave' smiled at his heavier friend.

The larger Tony sat at the bar laughed, "Eat me, Dave."

"Hey, maybe someday I will." Dave quipped as Rick set one of the drinks he took from the bar next to the man.

"We met on I-95 comin' outta Phili. Damn shit show that was."

"I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people." Glenn gave the same friendly smile he had when we first met on the stairs of my building, to the man.

"Rick Grimes" Rick introduced himself, taking another glass off the bar and passing it to Tony.

"What about you, pal? Have one?" Dave addressed Hershel.

"I just quit." the slowly sobering Hershel answered.

"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend." Dave smiled.

"His name's Hershel." Rick sat on a barstool, just over the counter from Glenn. "He lost people today, a lot of 'em."

Dave's expression fell from it's —little too friendly— smile, into a more solemn downcast. "I'm truly sorry to hear that."

He raised his glass towards us. "To better days and new friends. And to our dead— ...may they be in a better place."

I watched him tap the bottom of the glass on the table before downing his shot, and the others following suit; minus the table tap.

Dave's eyes settled on me as he set his empty glass on the table. "And you? What's your name?"

I wonder how long he can stand silence...

I blankly stared him down, and not even 3 seconds in, he began to look to the others for explanation.

"That's Eve." Rick answered in my sted, turning slightly.

Go— dammit, Rick. You've ruined my analysis.

"She doesn't talk much." Glenn wrapped his knuckles on the bar in a knocking motion, sparing a glance at me; which I returned outta the corner of my eye.

"...Any, particular reason for that?" Dave treaded carefully.

Glenn and Hershel both looked at me, and I could see Rick's eyelashes in the sunlight from the side of his face, as he blinked.

It occurs to me, none of them actually know the answer to that. Only person I can recall ever telling, is Daryl.

I thought for a second, taking my new opportunity to stare Dave down, when Rick actually can't intervene.

He got uncomfortable fast(judging by his shift and foot tap), and reached across his table; forgoing the answer to his question. "You don't have to say. I get it. Some things are personal."

My hand grabbed the knife at my side as soon as I caught sight of a black handle in the back of his waistband.

Rick tensed as well, and Dave seemed to notice as he looked back.

"Not bad, huh?" he reached around and pulled the gun out by the barrel, showing it to us. If that motion had me get ready to throw my knife a moment's notice, that's my business.