"Place don't look like it was left that recently," Daryl said, kicking at a piece of wood that laid real close to a child's drawing. The drawing was on plywood and looked like it was scrap from one of the rooms thereabouts.
"Yeah, but it looks pretty beat up," Glenn answered as he leaned over the open engine of the RV. "There are a lot more bullet holes in the walls than when I left."
Daryl nodded, moving to the reinforced wall in question to check it out. They'd had to move the two trash bins acting as the 'gates' to the parking lot. It wasn't a terrible affair, would keep walkers out no problem. But walkers weren't the only danger. He fingered one of the bullet holes, "How many were there when you left?"
"None," Glenn leaned back and sighed, pulling his hat off his head to scratch at his hairline. He took another glance around, "There's still a lot of stuff here, they'll probably come back if they only left recently. Might be out on a run."
"Could be," Daryl agreed. But they both knew that if people were out on a run, it didn't make sense for all of them to go. Unless there wasn't more than two of them left. He squinted up at the sun, "Not much daylight left. Maybe an hour. Maybe two."
He wasn't advocating they leave, but he also wasn't advocating they stay. The two of them had made decent time getting to Macon. They could afford to stay a night. Or they could go. There was still enough gas in the tank to get another hundred miles before nightfall if they left. Daryl was going to leave it up to Glenn.
Kid was smart. Seemed to always have a plan even when he had to come up with it on the fly. He was a lot like Merle that way. Knowing what he wanted to do and doing it. A leader. At least once they'd gotten on the road and away from the quarry group, anyway. Three days out and Daryl was content to do the driving while Glenn did the guiding.
"If we wait," Glenn mused, moving around the RV to check out the inside. Daryl switched his own path around the open area to follow so he could still hear the kid. "We'd have to spend the night."
"And if they're not back by dark?" he asked, doing a quick door check on a couple rooms that were close by.
Glenn pulled his head out of the RV and shrugged, "We leave at first light. No point in staying longer than that. If they left not that long ago and left in a hurry..." He waved one hand around as he headed for the bike, "and if they're not back by dark? I doubt they'll be back tomorrow. Or any day. Something had to scare them off and it's not worth sticking around to find out what on the off chance they return in the next couple days. Even if they did come back, it would probably only be to get what little supplies are left here."
The kid popped the kickstand up and pushed the bike toward the line of rooms. He nodded at the doors, "Any of them open?"
Daryl tapped one, then pulled the door open cautiously. If the place had been used as long term shelter, then it wasn't likely to have walkers inside. But the two of them were careful. Had to be. Daryl turned fast, crossbow ready to fire, as he moved in front of the open doorway. The flashlight he carried came up and on to sweep across the room.
The place hadn't been stripped bare, but only because there'd be no point. It was furnished and dusty. Like someone had looked through it weeks ago and then left it alone. Which meant it was perfect for them. Daryl still did a quick recon into the bathroom for any lurkers and even kicked a bit at the underside of the bed to make sure nothing was hiding there. It was empty, though.
At his signal, Glenn brought the bike inside and they got it turned around so they could ride it out in the morning. Once they shut the door for the night the place would look as empty as when they'd found it. Which meant that any less-than-friendly groups coming by wouldn't automatically know they were there. And that would give them time to arm themselves or run, whichever seemed the better play.
"Gonna check the other rooms," Daryl grunted as Glenn shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and started going through it for the candle stumps (tea lights as the kid had corrected him) they'd found the day before. They were better than wasting juice on flashlights if they could. Glenn just nodded and shut the door behind him. Daryl waited until he heard the clatter of the chain before he moved off, though. He was glad he hadn't had to remind Glenn of that precaution.
Not that he really thought he'd have to. Glenn had been the one to suggest it after their first encounter with another group. They had decided that any breaks or night stops would be best done in motels off the highway if they could find ones easy to get into. But other survivor groups had the same idea.
On the second night, putting the chain in the door and hastily hiding themselves in the bathroom with the bike tipped over on its side next to the bed had proved safer than locking themselves in. The other group had been more than happy to kick in the doors of the locked rooms. But the ones with the chains on them, they just did a quick glance of what they could see. If nothing looked more out of place than the bed being disturbed, they left it alone and moved on. They didn't question the chains. There were enough windows blown out of the bathrooms that it seemed 'obvious' how the previous occupants had gotten out, assuming they weren't still up and walking around, dead or not.
Daryl made his way between the rooms, opening up the ones that he could and doing a quick sweep. Most of them were as dusty and unused as the rest. But a couple were clearly in heavy and regular use. They were probably the ones Glenn's friends had been staying in. There were candles and books. One of them had some paper and more crayons. The little girl's room, then. Or the boy's. Glenn had said there were two kids.
When he got back to their room, he gave a quick knock and stood at the window where his travel partner could see him if he peeked out. The door was opened in short order and Daryl closed it once he was inside. The door was once again chained. None of the candles were lit yet since there was still plenty of light coming in through the curtains. The second set would be pulled closed after dark and one of the tea lights set up in the bathroom to provide any light they needed for the night. Otherwise the inside curtains would remain open. It wouldn't be enough to see by inside, but it would let them keep watch.
Daryl was pretty pleased to see that Glenn had his guns out on the bed and had obviously been taking them apart and putting them back together. Learning them as best he could without actually wasting bullets on target practice. If they could find a couple more boxes of ammo somewhere along the way, then maybe they could also take a few days to give him that practice. Better than having to learn in the field.
"What are you smiling about?" Glenn asked him and Daryl realized he'd been staring a bit. The kid looked himself over, "It can't be the mustard stains. They've been there since yesterday."
"Maybe it is," Daryl answered, tossing himself down on the bed hard enough to bounce. He snickered as the gun parts scattered just a bit and Glenn scrambled to grab them.
Once the he'd made sure the parts were all accounted for, he rolled his eyes at Daryl, "You were just as happy about the mustard as I was. Your shirt's just as dirty."
"Yeah, but I can't see my shirt 'less I look down," he answered, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth just a little. "An' I got no reason to do that."
Glenn snorted and shook his head. He went back to the guns and Daryl's attention went to the window. He didn't want to make a habit of stopping so soon before dark, but he couldn't deny that it was nice to have a couple of hours while the sun was out that they weren't riding or scrounging through gas stations for mustard and ketchup packs and whatever other food was still there. Only three days on the road and it already felt like way too long. Too exhausting.
Really, what they needed was for Daryl to go out hunting and bag them a rabbit or two for the road. So they didn't have to struggle for a few days. But that also meant putting down roots before they got to the coast and Daryl didn't really want to do that, either.
He'd never been as far south as the two of them already were. His whole life he'd lived in the mountains of north Georgia, following Merle around. Or his father. Or his uncle. Hunting and making a general nuisance out of the Dixon name. At any time, he could have just jumped in the truck and took it for a weekend trip down to Savannah and gotten himself a look at the beach. But he never did. Because it didn't really seem like an option before.
Now it was.
And it was only because Glenn had made it so. When he'd told the others he and Glenn were leaving he hadn't actually thought about where they were going to go once they got to Macon. That was the place Glenn had mentioned when they'd talked about leaving. So when Glenn said they were going to see the ocean since Daryl had never seen it, he'd been surprised. More than surprised. He'd gone with it, though, hadn't turned around or let anyone know he was surprised. Because, to the rest of the group, it made it look and sound like the two of them had come to the decision together. Harder to convince one of them not to leave if they were a united front.
But hell if he wasn't surprised Glenn even remembered he'd said that when they were being held by the Vatos. It was such a throwaway thing. Barely worth a mention in the middle of a three-hour conversation about the kind of 'outdoorsy shit' (Glenn's words) Daryl was familiar with. Kid had practically gone through a list like he was going through the boy scout handbook and crossing off badges.
But it was a nice surprise. One that made Daryl feel a bit more optimistic about the future. And about following Glenn's lead.
His eyes drifted to Glenn as the sun disappeared past the trees and the ambient light started to fade. It would be gone soon and then they'd have to close the curtains to set up the candle. Then they'd need to get ready for watch shifts.
Daryl figured that's why he was looking to Glenn when he did. To study him while the light was still good and figure out if it would be better for him to take first shift or not. His back was to Daryl, but it was obvious the kid was already putting the guns back in order. Setting one on the dresser while the other went in the front pocket of his backpack. After another moment of bending over, he started to pull off his shirt.
Glenn was a lot freer with stripping down in front of Daryl than Daryl was with him. And he was a lot more muscled than Daryl had first thought, too. His shoulders weren't particularly broad, but they looked it once his shirt was off and was no longer hiding the firm lines that defined his torso so clearly. He had a few scars of his own, nothing like Daryl's, but a few...
"Where'd you get that one on your side," he asked softly.
Glenn turned around, eyes wide, looking confused. He glanced down at himself and had to twist a bit to see the one Daryl was referring to. When he looked back up, he was blinking fast, like he was surprised Daryl had even seen it, faint as it was. "Uh... bike accident. When I was twelve? I think? Maybe?"
Daryl tilted his head, brows raised, inviting Glenn to keep going.
"Yeah, twelve. Maybe eleven. But not thirteen," he said and reached around to try and touch another one much higher up, near his shoulder, "This one was from when I was thirteen."
"So what happened?" Daryl murmured, trying to get Glenn to keep talking and not leave it at that. Glenn liked to talk anyway. So it shouldn't be that difficult.
"I got pushed against a pile of wood by some kids that liked to bully me," he shrugged, going just a little quiet before he continued. "People a lot like your brother, actually. They didn't call me chink, but they did make fun of me for being Asian. You know, for being 'smart'. I got caught after school on the way home from the bus stop. There was some construction going on. Someone in the neighborhood was renovating I think. Maybe adding a garage? I don't remember. But I remember the woodpile near the sidewalk. And I remember the nail going in. I think I must have screamed like I was dying because the guys were gone so fast and they didn't mess with me for a month, they were so scared I was going to tell on them and get them in trouble."
"You didn't, though?"
Glenn shook his head, bending over to pull on a clean(er) shirt, "No. That pretty much taught me to just stand quietly and take whatever they were going to throw at me if anyone got physical. If all they did was talk, I was pretty safe talking back, but if they so much as nudged me I just shut up."
Daryl titled his head the other way and thought about that. He'd noticed that, actually. How Glenn would clam up around his brother. He laughed in spite of himself, "I wondered why you were always mouthier to me than you were ta Merle."
"Merle scared me," Glenn said, but he was smiling. A little ruefully perhaps, but a smile none the less. "You used to scare me, too. Nothing like him, just... you know, you're scary when you want to be."
"That's the point," he laughed again, this time it came more easily. "Was tryin' to keep all ya'll away from us. You lot got nosy when you got comfortable with people. The more uncomfortable and scared you were, the less you'd poke around in what didn't concern you."
Glenn laid himself down next to Daryl, on his stomach so he could tuck his arms under the pillow. He smiled up at him and Daryl ended up looking away, back toward the window. He started to bite at his thumb as the conversation turned to a comfortable silence.
Fingers touched his elbow and started the slow crawl up his arm same as they had the last couple nights. It was starting to become a ritual. Like Glenn couldn't find his way to sleep until he'd managed to get his hand tangled up in Daryl's. Daryl had been letting him, too. Letting him pull his hand down to the mattress and eventually, when Glenn was long since asleep, tuck it up under his chin like some damn security blanket.
Daryl didn't let him do that this time, though. Well, not the pulling his arm down bit. Glenn still got his fingers up and tangled in with Daryl's. Still got it so their palms were pressing lightly against each other. But Daryl kept his hand up near his mouth. Chewing away at his thumb while the back of Glenn's hand brushed against his chin every so often. The kid was out within minutes, same as he usually was.
He didn't exactly know why he did that. Only that he was curious about the reaction he'd get if he didn't let Glenn have full control of where his hand got to be. Daryl had half-expected him to fight it, to tug and pull and maybe even whine a little. Insist somehow that Daryl should drop his hand because it'd be more comfortable. Make it so Daryl had a reason to shake him off.
But he didn't. He just took what Daryl allowed him to take and was content with it. If the soft snores coming from his side of the bed were any indication.
Daryl kept their hands where they were until the sun disappeared enough that night was coming too fast. After dark hit in full, he dropped their hands to his lap and idly worried his thumb over Glenn's skin. His eyes didn't leave the window, but his thoughts were elsewhere. On the kid and on himself and on whatever the hell it was they were doing.
A week before he'd told Glenn that he didn't even like him much. And it'd been true. Now he was holding his goddamn hand like they'd been friends for years and could get away with it because everyone knew they were as thick as thieves. Like brothers. Like blood.
The kind of friend he'd never really had, but always wanted because all he did have was Merle. When Merle wasn't in juvie or the army or the county lock up. Which wasn't often. With the way their daddy was, Daryl never got a chance to be close to anyone. He wasn't even that close to Merle, all things considered.
But he was close to Glenn. Sort of. Close enough that Glenn hadn't hesitated to climb on his bike and ride off with him. Even if it was sooner than they'd agreed on. Glenn had been there for him.
"So uh..." Daryl murmured into the empty silence of the night a couple hours later, knowing that Glenn was too asleep to hear him. "Just wanted to say thanks, you know? For being my first real friend. It's... it's kinda nice."
Glenn didn't respond of course. But Daryl let his hand get tugged out of his lap and curled up under the kid's chin. Let himself be Glenn's security blanket for the duration of his watch.
He snorted, "But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll kill you."
Glenn's sleep remained undisturbed until Daryl woke him for his shift.