"We bag this girl, we'll be eating good for a week," Daryl shouted over the roar of the wind and the roar of the beast chasing them as he turned his body in the passenger's seat to steady his gun. He'd take the shot once Glenn hit the straightaway. They just had to stay in front of her long enough for that to happen.
"Well, if you don't bag her soon, she'll be eating good for an hour," Glenn snapped back, far less excited about the dino on their tail as he tore down the 85 toward Atlanta. "What kind is she, anyway?"
"Either a baby T or one of her cousins," Daryl called back, still grinning. "Think Ingen made some Albertos. Might be that."
"Whatever she is, let's hope those tranqs will take her down. They're only rated for three tons," Glenn shouted, pulling the car to the left as the turn finally gave way to a stretch of mostly straight road.
Daryl took a glance at the front of the car to make sure he had time, then turned back and finally lined his shot up. He squeezed the trigger as he answered, "She ain't more'n two."
And true to his assumption, the terrible lizard chasing them down like the bait they were stumbled and slowed after another minute of driving. Eventually toppling over and cracking her head against the concrete of the southbound lane, body otherwise draped across the broken divider. The northbound run into Atlanta was a common hunting strip and the road had taken its toll for it.
Glenn hit the brakes and sent the car into a spin so they could turn around and head back. So Daryl could take the spear he was already fishing out of the backseat and stab it straight through the impressive beast's eye. Fastest way to kill them without destroying the rest of the body.
As he slowed the car into a stop, Glenn got on the radio to call their team in, "We got her down on the 85 North, extraction needed ASAP. No way Atlanta didn't see this."
"Hello, dinner," Daryl whistled, jamming the spear through once, twice, three times to be sure. Their brains weren't always the easiest to destroy.
Glenn slid out of his seat, chains already in hand, and headed over to his boyfriend. He leaned in for a quick kiss to the cheek and a murmured 'good job' before he tossed the first chain over one ankle. The two worked together in silence for the rest of the five minutes it took for their crew to burn rubber to their kill site. The flat-bed tow truck was in place in moments and then Rick was taking point with Maggie and Sasha. Claiming a kill on the 85 wasn't illegal, but like most of the walled cities, Atlanta liked to lay claim to whatever it could if it was close enough. Pull some legal red-tape bullshit to put a hunter into court over a kill dispute and make sure those who fought them were screwed out of their meat and bone even if they did win the lawsuit. It was easier to fight them on the ground when a crew was there and already hauling the beast away when their claimers arrived. Be that fight a figurative or literal one.
Carol brought over a couple water bottles for the two of them as they watched their kill get pulled onto the flatbed by her ankles. She shook her head and sighed, "I'm always amazed when you two call us in. No one else gets kills this big and it's a miracle you survive trying it."
"It's cause Daryl's such a good shot," Glenn grinned at her, elbowing his boyfriend lightly. Daryl snorted and took a drink, not answering. Of course he was a good shot, but he didn't need to brag about it for it to be true. Glenn did that enough for him.
"You're as much a part of this as he is," Carol said, swatting his arm. "And you know it."
Glenn couldn't deny that, so he just laughed, "You know, two years ago, if anyone had told me that, I would have called them crazy."
"Two years ago there weren't no 'saurs wandering the world," Daryl muttered.
"Exactly my point," Glenn agreed. He gestured at the otherwise empty highway, "Two years ago, this kind of life was just a bad movie script waiting to happen. I was delivering pizzas and worrying about college debts. You were off doing whatever it was you did. And everyone else..." He shook his head, then shrugged, "Ingen really screwed the pooch on this one. But you know what else?"
Glenn turned to Daryl and Daryl eyed him warily, not sure where this was going, "What?"
"Getting chased out of Atlanta by a pack of raptors and up to that refugee camp was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. Cause I met you," he answered, leaning in for another quick kiss. Daryl didn't exactly like the PDA thing, so it was really just a quick peck, but it was enough for Glenn. His boyfriend shrugged him off after allowing it with a shy smile and a muttered, 'stop it' while Carol laughed and mussed her best friend's hair to distract his embarrassment.
"Alright, let's wrap this up," Rick yelled, raising his hand and waving it in a circle. "We got her loaded and we need to move. Atlanta crew's ten minutes out and I want to be gone when they get here."
The group broke apart, jogging to their cars. Glenn hit the radio as soon as they were started up and heading out, "Watch yourselves on the main Farmlands exit. We took a detour that way to corral her and saw a pack of raptors on the switch back to Woodbury. Don't know if they were coming or going, but we got fresh meat and warm bodies."
"Copy that, Glenn," Rick answered back. "You and Daryl watch our six. Carol's got point with Sasha. You see their jeep doing anything, you follow it."
Daryl took the radio from him, "Like hell I'm following Carol. Woman drives like a demon."
"Aww, you afraid Glenn can't keep up, Pookie?" Carol teased.
Daryl snorted, grinning and relaxing into the seat for the ride back to their little fortress in the Farmlands, "I'm afraid you'll give him ideas."