𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧, daryl dixon

two

— 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢
( 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘋𝘋𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚. )

IT HAD BEEN a month since Murphy ran into the quirky trio, and they had become closer than she could have ever thought. Rosita was like her little sister, and they had become nearly inseparable. Abraham was the grouchy uncle, or at least... that's what Murphy called him. And Eugene was just... Eugene. Strange, uncomfortable at times, but a sweet man at heart.

The four members of the group had found a large truck on the side of the road about a week ago, and thankfully it was still full of gas and in good shape. They had been driving northeast since then, towards Washington DC. They had hit a few obstacles from time to time. Walkers, cars breaking down, and more. Their trip was taking much longer than they had anticipated.

They were driving down a small country road. Murphy and Rosita lounged in the back while Abraham and Eugene sat in the front. They music was blasting loudly in the truck, as a case of CD's were found under one of the seats. That made the long trip a little more bearable. Unfortunately, Eugene wanted to play one song, and one song only... on repeat.

"Goddamn it, Eugene! We've listened to this song a hundred times!" Murphy yelled, hitting her head on the headrest of her seat repetitively.

Rosita and Abraham nodded their heads in agreement, but Eugene stared straight ahead.

"I can not understand why you do not appreciate the brainwork and genius put into this song. Listen to the way the notes intertwine and transcend the ideal standard of what we call music today," he rambled. "It truly is a masterpiece in and of itself."

"We don't give a shit what you think it is," Abraham responded. "Shut that piece of shit music off."

Eugene sat silent and didn't move for a moment before reaching forward and shutting the music off reluctantly. Rosita clasped her hands together, looking up, and mumbled, "Gracias a dios."

The group remained silent for the next couple minutes, and Murphy looked out the window, noticing the change of scenery. She was hypnotized by the beauty of the country before Abraham slammed on the breaks suddenly.

"What in high hell?"

Murphy snapped out of her reverie and sat up, looking through the windshield at whatever Abraham had seen. She saw a young girl repetitively hitting a walker in the head with the but of a rifle, and her brows shot up in concern. Next to the girl was a man lying on the ground, and who looked to be in some sort of armor or the like.

The girl threw the gun down on the ground and looked straight at the truck, "I hope you enjoyed the show, assholes!"

The four companions looked at each other in the truck and Murphy nodded towards the doors. They slowly got out of the truck and looked at the young girl.

"You got a damn mouth on you, you know that?" Abraham began. "What else you got?"

___

Murphy helped load up the unconscious Asian man into the back of the truck, and elected to sit back there with him and the girl. As the truck started to continue its trek along the road, she made eye contact with the girl.

"I'm Murphy," she introduced herself, holding out her hand to shake.

The girl took her hand, giving it a slight shake, "Tara. That's Glenn."

Murphy's eyes shifted to him, "What happened?"

Tara gave a sad chuckle, "It's a long story. Maybe I'll explain it another time."