Daryl didn’t know anyone in camp. He and Merle were making plans to leave them in a few days – why bother getting to know these walking lunch boxes. Between the lot of them he figured only about two would survive. It wouldn’t be that nagging former housewife of her pansy-ass kid. The ex-cop might make it if he could pull his face from her pussy. But for the most part they were a bunch of over weight, suburban bleeding-hearts that were waiting for ‘normal’ to come back...
Daryl thinks he knows the score until things keep changing