𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧, daryl dixon

twelve

— 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘
( 𝘈𝘛𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘈. )

MURPHY AND DARYL had been driving for about an hour... and for that hour, the two of them had remained in a comfortable silence broken by short bursts of conversation. Murphy was confused and slightly nervous at the fact that they were following this car to god knows where, but Daryl did not seem fazed. His eyes remained locked on the car way in front of them, while Murphy's flicked to him.

"So..." she began, pressing her lips together.

Daryl grunted in response, shifting in his seat to be more comfortable.

"... you wanna tell me why we're out here?"

The car was silent for a moment until Daryl looked at her. His gaze returned to the road and he muttered, "It's a long story."

"I've got time," Murphy responded.

Daryl scoffed, rolling his shoulders back before beginning, "A'right, well... there was this prison down south. We had it good goin' for us, a whole lot of us were there. After a few months, this guy named the Governor... he took the place down with his people. I hope the damn prick is dead now, we were the only ones who made it. We got split up, an' I was alone with Beth until Terminus."

He stopped there, and Murphy responded solemnly, "I'm sorry. What happened to her?"

"We were out there for a while. We got cornered 'n... I don't know, she was gone," he answered, quietly. "I came out and a car was pullin' out with a white cross on the window."

"Just like that one..." Murphy continued.

"Yep," Daryl responded gruffly.

After a moment of silence, he continued, "Rick's gonna wonder where we went. Tank's runnin' low too."

"Well, we have to follow them if we want to find out where they took her," Murphy answered, raising herself in her seat to get a better look at the car since the headlights were smashed.

"Yeah, and we got the advantage. If they're a group, we'll see what they can do," Daryl said. "And then we'll do what we gotta do to get her back."

Murphy turned back to him, "I'll help you. Whatever we have to do."

Daryl's voice lowered, "You don't even know her."

"I don't have to," she responded quickly.

Daryl's gaze fell to her, but she had already turned back towards the car. He was trying desperately to figure out this woman's character. Her innate desire to help people confused him. What had she done before all this? Who was she?

Murphy's voice broke him out of his thoughts, "They're heading North, I-85... Atlanta."

As they entered the abandoned city, they were silent. The eeriness was enough to make anyone stop talking. There was no light save for the moon's glow upon the empty streets. Daryl carefully drove a distance away from the white crossed car, but still close enough that they could barely see where it was going. Finally, the car came to a stop. Murphy narrowed her eyes to see what was happening.

"What the hell's he waitin' for?" Daryl whispered, his hands resting atop the steering wheel.

Suddenly, the car shut off in front of them, and Daryl quickly followed suit. Murphy was able to make out two figures exiting the car. She reached into the bag that sat between her legs on the car floor, and pulled out a handgun. Daryl gave her a look and she sighed, "They might've seen us."