Chapter 64 - Glittering Prize (Simple Minds)

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NATE

An Aussie, two Americans and a part-Irishman walk into a bar....  🤣

I motioned to the barrels securing the cellar entry and we rolled them out of the way. Tugged the hatch in the floor upwards.

Carol and Axel strolled downstairs again while Daryl and I stepped out to the porch of the saloon.

"Cover"  He ordered, opening the rear doors to the truck before securing them.

I take up a stance, raising my rifle and keeping an eye out. There are only a few walkers about six hundred yards away, paying no attention to us.

Daryl started the truck and backed it up. Then beckoned for me to jump in the front with him.

"Yer done enough for a while, Gata. Stay here and cover."

For once, I don't argue.

*

Half an hour later I switched shifts with Carol.

Daryl lugged gear out of the rear cellar doors. I brought stuff through the hatch in the bar while Axel carefully stacked everything in the truck.

Every so often, we all swapped over.

We kept aside the soft stuff like blankets, pillows, bags of clothes, sleeping bags and so on. Tucking them into nooks and crannies as we went. They'll stop anything from moving around too much on our trip back.

They were also needed to protect several other bags and cases.

"Very fragile"  I stated briefly, when Daryl questioned why I was so insistent on packing them away myself.

He'll learn soon enough....exactly how much.

We've been going at it for a few hours now. Stopping often to have a break. With me handing out some water bottles and muesli bars that I kept back from a couple of crates.

During what will probably be our last chill session, I succumb. And creep down to the cellar by myself.

Dixon followed swiftly....silently. Gave me some space, though his eyes kept me company as I wandered around.

This place had been yet another  home and haven for me. Lots of memories begin to play foosball in my head.

Daryl's fingers filled the empty spaces between my own, squeezing them again. He let me be for a few minutes, then gently bumped my shoulder with his.

"Don't!"  He ordered softly.

"Don't go back there, Nate. Got way too much in front of yer now."

I bumped him in return and he ambled away. Taking my  intense gaze with him this time.

*

Daryl began piling the last of the heavier crates closer to the staircase, so we could lug them up together.

He's stripped down to just a tight muscle tee and they call them that for a bloody good reason. Sticking to him with sweat and....Oh struth....those biceps.

Again, friends....I apologise for the flippancy. But what's in front of me now? Is waaaay too much indeed.

"Down, girl!"  I whisper to myself, tipping the remaining contents of a water bottle over my gawping face to cool off.

Bad decision, Derpa  🥵

Lycra is already clingy. Clingy wet  Lycra is, ummmm....clingy and wet. I think you're getting the picture.

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