War of the Times (A Z Nation X The Walking Dead Crossover)

Chapter Seven: Home Sweet Sanctuary

Titled and parodied after Z Nation's...

Home Sweet Zombie ; season 1 episode 5

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The road trudged on, leading far into the distance until you could only see a mere spot in between trees and bushes.

It was silent in the car as it rumbled down the path. Rick had his driver side window opened, hanging his left arm on the edge and his right hand gripping the wheel on the lower side. He had only been driving for about an hour, but already looked exhausted.

Alright there's no need to lie here, he always looked exhausted.

Meanwhile seated on the passenger side sat Carl, his booted feet now perched up on the dash as his right hand stayed wrapped loosely around the walky-talky in his lap. He was hoping to have been in range to get a response from either of their out past curfew friends, but every time he tried talking into the walky, static was his only answer.

"Do you think we're close enough to where they were yet?" Carl asked, hoping for an answer different then the time he'd asked five minutes prior. And five minutes before that. And another five minutes before that, but we don't talk about those.

"Yeah, we're close. There's one of their markers." Rick answered, pointing out a barely noticeable yellow strip of fabric tied around a telephone pole. "We should park soon and get out for a look around. Try radioing them again, would you."

"Okay," Carl replied, popping his feet back to the floor of the vehicle and sitting up straight. He held up the walky-talky and turned one of the dials until the all too familiar sound of static came through with a cute little ding ding chime. Bet some old fart thought it was a genius idea for such a device. Carl then held the black box up to his lips, pressed down the talk button and spoke. "Daryl, Aaron? It's Carl with dad. Can you respond? Over."

The silence in the car pressed on.

Nothing. Damn it.

"Try again." Rick said.

Carl looked at his father for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should say what's on his mind. He decided against it and repeated the message to the walky once again.

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"Dar-yl, Aaro-n? It's Ca-rl w-ith da-d. Can you res-po-nd? Ov-er."

The walky sprung to life with a sharp zip of static from Daryl's back pocket. The message was broken up by static, but clear as day. Rick and Carl were near!

Despite the fact he was still swinging a very much aching arm at the heads of walkers, dropping them for good, Daryl managed to get his other arm around to his pocket. He pulled the black device out, pressed the talk button and particularly shouted over the sound of zombies.

"Rick, Carl! We can hear you man! Do you copy! We're trapped on a car with a whole lot of walkers all around us! We've probably been bashing heads for hours now! It's literally dark now! Aaron and I are fine, but we'd appreciate a little help here brother! Over! Over!"

"Y-eah, we co-py! D-o you go-t an-y id-ea whe-re you mig-ht be? O-ver."

"We're at some town! The houses look normal-ish! Whatever the hell Aaron meant by that! Over!" Daryl spoke as he pushed his blade into the skull of an incoming corpse.

"We're en-ter-ing a to-wn ri-ght no-w. It's pre-tty muc-h dark no-w. Are yo-u abl-e to h-old on til fir-st light? Over."

Daryl had to pause before answering to really think. Yeah, they were surrounded by tons of walkers, but on the other hand, it's too risky to send Rick and Carl into the head of the flame without them being able to see past their hands. They should be fine until morning, hopefully.