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I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Chapter 48

~Author's Note: Hey guys, here is the chapter about the start of Daryl's run. I guess we'll see what happens. I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for reading and being so awesome!~


Daryl crouched behind the counter, crossbow at the ready, gun in the other hand, not knowing which one to use. He was a fucking idiot...should've listened to his gut. He was outnumbered...two men and a woman, at least from what he'd heard. Everything about this run had been too good to be true. There'd only been minor blockage on the main road. Only took him 'bout a half hour from the house. The small town seemed deserted of both walkers and people. The only thing about the day that wasn't like he hoped was the snow cover. The pavement and concrete were still too warm for the snow to stick, only showing a dusting and wet spots on the road and sidewalks. But since he'd planned the run before and the snow wasn't part of the original plan, it was no big deal. There were no signs of walkers, so he didn't need the snow to debilitate them.

The side door to the archery shop had been open, and it was stocked with enough bolts that he could be good for years if he took out a small herd of walkers a day. Daryl even took the time to look at the high-end crossbows hanging on the wall behind the counter. Crossbows wore out, didn't last forever, especially with as hard as he used 'em. If he was gonna get a new one, well, he would take one or two or three of the best-the kind he could've never afforded.

That's when he'd heard 'em. They'd been outside, so he couldn't hear what they'd said, but it didn't matter. He was parked at the side door of the shop, and that door was clear across the store. The handle of the front door had turned before he had time to react. Even with his reaction time, there was no way he could make it over the counter and to that door without being noticed. He'd done the only thing he could...hunkered down behind the counter, weapons loaded, waiting for the opportunity to fully assess his situation. He would kill anyone, however many people it took, to get back to Beth.

The bells hanging from the door handle jingled, banging hard against the glass.

"God Dammit, draw every walker in a klick down on us!" One of Daryl's new problems cussed angrily.

Well, they weren't too bright of a bunch. There'd been a reason he'd come in through the side door. Sporting goods stores that sold weapons always had some sort of noise mechanism on their front door...needed to know who was around the guns and bows. He'd been worried about walkers, and luckily there'd been none after his sweep of the shop. They were worried about walkers too when they needed to be worried about him.

They had to be a scavenging party, out looking for supplies, just like him. The problem was, anyone who wasn't him or Beth was a threat. His heart was beating hard and rhythmic, but not fast. Fast wouldn't come until he needed his adrenaline to be up, for fighting and surviving. Daryl listened as one set of heavy footsteps crossed the store.

"Mother Fuck...not a gun or bullet one!" That one was loud and stupid, or just didn't give a fuck because he wasn't afraid. Any of those things made him dangerous.

He was away from the other two, now standing by the small wall area and display case that at one point had contained the store's small selection of guns and ammo that were stripped clean.

"I informed you earlier that the probability of there being firearms or ammunition in this store was nil to none as it catered to the archery minded individual. I may have uncharacteristically misjudged that possibility, but the guns and ammunition were clearly the first commodities to be coveted." What the hell? Who talked like that and was still alive now. "Maybe I should take up the bow."

"That would be a fucking negative. I don't know what scares me more, your actual inability with a firearm or the idea of you with a weapon that propels a sharpened stick. You'd probably find a way to kill yourself or one of us with it." The loud one, he was gruff and opinionated, clearly their leader. And he talked too much.

Now Daryl knew that the other man couldn't use a gun to save his life even on the off chance he was carrying a loaded one.

"In our present situation, with the scarcity of weapons and ammunition, bows would be ideal. They are silent weapons, and arrows can be reused."

The leader crossed from the display case back to where the other two waited. He didn't even try to walk quietly. Inflated confidence.

"Well, unfortunately God hasn't given us the time or luxury to learn how to use this ideal weapon. How 'bout you stick to what you're good at-thinking-and not 'bout bows. Leave the weapons to us. You don't need to go getting yourself killed because then we'd all be fucked."

There it was...the thing Daryl needed to know to survive. One of them was more important. They were protecting him, for whatever reason, he didn't care. That one was his target...his ticket out. He might not even have to kill anyone.

"Guys, just shut up. We're looking for bullets. It's that simple. You're down to what, four rounds? I'm down to my last two. Let's just get this job done and move on." That was the woman. She seemed to be the most grounded and even tempered of the group. And between the three of them, they had six rounds. He had had sixteen, plus his extra clips, plus his bow.

Maybe he should just show himself. Maybe they weren't a threat. Maybe they would just let him go. That was just too many maybes for him to chance. These people were survivors. They'd survived this long. You didn't make it in this world by not seeing everything as a potential threat. If he popped up from behind the counter, not only was he a threat, he was a surprise. If they reacted like survivors had to, at the least, they would be staring down the barrels of their guns at him. At the worst, he could be dead, their limited ammunition wouldn't make one bit of a difference in that moment. He needed to keep the upper hand.

"Check behind the counter. They might've kept their personal weapons there," the girl suggested. Daryl knew she was talking about his counter, taking a deep breath and silently putting his crossbow back over his shoulder. His gun was his best option.

"I knew there was a very definitive reason I liked you. Beautiful, deadly, and intelligent. Our own femme fatale." It was the wordy one. The one they were protecting because they needed him.

Maybe some higher power was on his side today. He was frozen in Daryl's sights as soon as he came around the counter and spotted him. For a second, Daryl wasn't sure he was the right one...maybe there were four of them 'cause this one...well, he looked dumber than a box of rocks and didn't look like he'd missed a meal a day in his life...but looks were deceiving. Daryl knew that from a life full of being judged.

Daryl was on his feet, had the important one in front of him to block any flying bullets, the muzzle of his gun pressed to the back of the man's skull before anyone had time to breathe. He'd overestimated them, their reflexes, their ability to survive, but overestimating put him in a much better place than underestimating.

"Fuck me!" Their leader seemed to have a very limited vocabulary.

Daryl could really assess them now. A stern stocky soldier type, a slender, capable looking woman, and the "smart" idiot, the pork chop he had in front of him who looked like something that just crawled outta his mama's basement...they weren't all that impressive. They had their weapons drawn, but they wouldn't do them no good unless they were gonna shoot him through their buddy, and he knew that wasn't gonna be the case.

"It seems that we may have had a serious lapse in judgment by not thoroughly inspecting the building for threats." You think? Daryl thought as he listened to the words fly outta the man whose head was getting nice and intimate with the muzzle of his gun.

Right now this game was being played on his terms.

"Let's just make this nice 'n simple. Y'all are gonna lower your guns. Your friend and me, we're gonna have us a nice little walk out the door where we'll say goodbye and never see each other again," Daryl asserted as civilly as he could, edging sideways towards the end of the counter, forcing his hostage with him.

Nobody said anything...made a move to stop him. Daryl made it around the counter, halfway to the side door, guns trained on him the entire way, but he was almost there.

"Walkers...herd...cover!" The shout came from outside.

There were more of them. A group. And now walkers. This was a game changer. He was probably dead already.

Beth...What could he do to get back to her?

"Lock the door," their leader issued his order to the woman. He was calm now. Seemed like he really got his head together when there was a threat near. Same thing always happened to Daryl...most fighters.

The girl followed directions without question. The slow click of the deadbolt, a quiet noise in the scope of things, was as jarring as a shotgun being racked in their dangerous situation. Daryl watched over his shield's shoulder, saw the leader's gun still aimed squarely in his direction, it's bearer unwavering. He allowed himself to glance to the side to watch the woman who took a moment to look out the window before sliding past the glass door back to beside the soldier.

"How many?" He was staring straight at Daryl, but his question was for the woman.

"Thirty-maybe more." She wasn't sounding too confident.

With only six bullets between the two of them, probably the same problem with the rest of their group, he'd be worried too.

"Everyone off the streets?"

"As far as I can see."

Daryl's survival mode was still in high gear, but he was calm for the moment. Strange as it was, when he thought logically about it, the walker herd improved his immediate situation drastically. They wouldn't shoot him, wouldn't risk using their guns. That would bring the whole damned herd crashing through that glass door. One bullet to take him out if they were lucky with their shot...two more likely...would leave them with no more than five rounds. He paused his thoughts, listening, hearing walkers moaning and scraping past the side door of the shop where he'd entered. One bumped against the door, causing it to rattle. He wasn't escaping out that door anymore.

"Might wanna send your girl to lock that side door," Daryl spoke just loud enough for the others to hear, jerking his head to the side to indicate the location of the door set back in the short hallway. They hadn't cleared the building. Probably didn't even know the door was there.

The leader took his eyes off Daryl, looking to the woman and nodding, moving her into action.

Daryl's situation might be changing, but it was still improving. The leader looking away from him, taking his sights off the target proved that he was contemplating a bigger threat than Daryl...the herd. They couldn't use their guns without killing themselves. Taking the guns out of the equation, they were left with their knives, and he had his crossbow and hunting knife. He was better than anyone he knew with a knife, always had been, but he wasn't so sure about their leader. His actions, stance, demeanor all read military. He could be a challenge with a knife. If it came down to it, he would drop the commando with a bolt between the eyes. Pork Chop in front of him wouldn't cause a problem...didn't pose any threat at all. With their leader out of the picture, the girl might stand down, but if she challenged him, he would take her out with his knife. Strength alone pretty much guaranteed that he'd win that fight. He didn't want to kill a woman, but she was an enemy, and he was gonna be the one goin' home at the end of the day no matter what.

Problem was, this advantage only lasted as long as the herd of walkers did. They would likely just pass through, eventually, unless they were stimulated by noise or movement. Once they were gone, Daryl was fucked. There were more of them...more people...a group, how many he didn't know, but it really didn't matter. They outnumbered him. Their leader cared about Pork Chop who Daryl had at gunpoint. They needed his useless ass for something, and that something sure in the hell wasn't fighting. That had been made abundantly clear. He was also concerned about the rest of his group...asked the girl if all their people were hunkered down. Those were his weaknesses. If Daryl remained a threat, as soon as the walkers were gone and the group found them, he was dead. Daryl had an advantage now and only now. He knew it. They knew it. He would press that advantage the only way he could. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to get back to Beth, so he rolled the dice.

Daryl lowered his gun, tucking it in his back waistband. He fought to keep his breathing steady and his movements slow so they couldn't read just how vulnerable he felt. Pork Chop took a few clumsy steps forward, almost falling flat on his face, turning around to stare at him in disbelief. Daryl didn't act like he paid him any mind although he was hyper aware of everything going on around him. Had to be if he wanted to stay alive. Daryl pulled his crossbow over his shoulder to have it in hand, but he didn't aim it anywhere but at the ground. Just had it ready. Then he made a point to look at them, the three strangers that were watching him, waiting to see what his next move was. He wanted to have their full attention when he played his card, the only decent one he had.

"I don't kill the living. I fight for the living. I kill the walking dead." He was calm, his voice solid and confident because it was the truth. His truth.

Their leader lowered his gun, and the girl followed suit. Now it was time to lay out his terms.
"When this herd's gone, you let me leave. If it attacks you or your people, I'll fight 'em with you, then you let me go." It all came down to life and freedom.

"I can't promise you anything. I don't make decisions for the larger group, but their leader's fair," the soldier replied for them. So, he wasn't their leader...well, it didn't change nothin'. This was who he had to deal with. "He might even offer you a place in the group if you fight as hard as you look. I wouldn't support that decision, but my say ain't worth shit." He was bitter about that...clearly.

Well, it was the best Daryl could hope for...this uneasy truce.

"Don't wanna be part of your group. I'm better on my own," Daryl was gonna make that clear.
He didn't want nothin' to do with their group or any group. He would fight by them if it came to that because he had given his word, but that was it. If they saw him fight, Daryl knew they'd want him with them, but it wasn't ever gonna happen. Back to Beth. He was getting back to her. The soldier nodded his understanding.

Now we wait.

Notes

Comments

@Smokey85
Awww...thank you so much for coming back to read! You are amazing. I truly appreciate it!

Aireabella Aireabella
3/30/19

I am so happy you are back! I love your stories and always look forward to your updates! Thank you for sharing your work :)

Smokey85 Smokey85
3/26/19

@McDrogoInaNewWorld
So glad that you enjoyed it! It always makes my day when I can make people happy by doing what I love! Thank you so much!

Aireabella Aireabella
6/14/18

Yay!!! Another great chapter on the books, can’t wait to see what happens next!!

@blesdirishangel
Thank you so much for coming back to my fic and for your comment! I am glad that you love the update. You are amazing!

Aireabella Aireabella
6/7/18