Author's Note: FLD! What the hell are you doing?! You already have so many stories; why are you writing another one?! Well, I'll tell you :3 So, recently I have been working on getting into college and all that when I realize what I want to do with my life: work in movies. I love acting and writing film scripts and all that and one of my main inspirations? Definitely has to be Norman Reedus. That man plays so many villain roles (Mac, Marco, Nate, etc) and very few nice guy roles (my favorite by far being Murphy McManus) that it's such a nice change to see him playing Daryl Dixon. As an avid zombie film lover, added with my love for Norman's films, it was simply inevitable that I would write a Walking Dead fic. So here I am :3 Hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: Do not own the rights to Walking Dead. That honor goes to Robert Kirkman, the genius...
Chapter 1 "Redneck with a Crossbow"
No one ever forgot what they were doing when something bad happens somewhere in the world. For Murphy Singer, she remembered what she was eating for breakfast on September 11th; it wasn't too hard to recall what she'd been doing on the day of the first signs of the Apocalypse beginning. She'd been getting ready to go over the final draft of her thesis paper in order to get her doctorate. Murphy was the type of person that hated silence, so she usually worked on her living room couch with the TV on, frequently flicked to the news channel in Augusta, Georgia for background noise. She barely even took notice to the news anchor reporting about how people were suddenly going insane and eating other people's faces off; she now realized how stupid it was of her to ignore it. How useless it was to simply continue overlooking a paper that she would never get the chance to turn in. But she definitely knew better now. She now knew how useful it would have been to begin gathering supplies for an emergency bag. She wished that she had been paying attention to the television for once.
Now Murphy wasn't thinking about her life before the Apocalypse much anymore. She was just trying to survive now. Lucky for her, she had been taken in by a nice group of people that she'd met after she got into Atlanta; after the military started dropping napalm in the street. She feared that she wouldn't be able to get out of the city alive, much less with all of her limbs attached. Then she met the Vatos; while they were all big and tough gangster-looking men, they were really a bunch of softies that took care of the elderly that were left behind in the nursing home. Murphy had laughed in the face of the leader, Guillermo when she'd been told of this. But eventually, she began to pitch in and actually help out; she took some of the men under wing and taught them basic medical skills in order for them to take care of the elderly when she eventually found a way out of the city. She didn't want to leave the people behind, but her father had told her before he died that if Atlanta was no longer safe to find a way to get to either the CDC or Fort Benning. She figured that the least she could do was to honor his wishes and go to the places he thought were the safest. Now, all she needed was the means of transportation and bullets for her gun. Both were very much hard to come by in the event of the Apocalypse, she had long since learned.
"What the hell is this?" Murphy asked, watching in amazement as two large Mexican men dragged a struggling Asian into the retirement home. Not only was she surprised that they were bringing in an Asian that couldn't be any older than 30, at the least 24. No, she was also surprised to see that Felipe had an arrow sticking out of his ass like he'd just been shot by Cupid or some shit like that. Guillermo stood next to her with just as much surprise, but managed to mask it better than she did. His mouth wasn't hanging on the ground like a goddamn idiot, like Murphy's was, anyways.
"We were jumped on the way to get the guns, man." Jorge managed to inform as he roughly pushed the Asian forward, whom had taken to looking around at the old men and women walking through the hall they stood in rather than fighting against the Mexican man any longer. "Some redneck shot Felipe in the ass!"
"Yeah, I can see that. C'mon, Felipe. Let's go get that looked at." Murphy grunted with a roll of her eyes as she turned and stalked down the hall towards the room that had basically become her office. "Maybe you can explain to me how the hell you were stupid enough to get shot in the ass with an arrow."
As soon as they entered the office, Murphy had Felipe lean forward on her examination table. He, being a species of the opposite gender, swore and protested vehemently of having her be the one to remove the arrow.
"Chica, it's not necessary! I can do it myself!" Felipe said nervously as he backed away from her slightly.
"Stop being a goddamn baby, Felipe! You know you wouldn't be able to pull that damn thing out on your own and stitch up the wound, so just lean on the damn table and stop making a big deal out of nothing." She roughly took his arm and tugged the surprised man towards the table. For such a tiny woman, she certainly was pretty strong. Once he'd braced himself with his stomach laying on the crinkly white paper on the examination table Murphy turned and walked towards the cabinet that housed her sewing kit and her scissors. Along the way, she continued to grumble to herself. "Honestly, for such big, bad gangsters, you men are all the same. Seriously, Felipe, I'm a doctor; a surgeon at that. I've seen more than one ass in my life time, for christ's sake." She wrinkled her freckled nose at him when he looked at her over his shoulder.
"We know, Murphy, but... It's embarrassing, okay?" He sighed, looking away as she began to take her scissors to the area around where the arrow stuck out of his ass.
"Whatever you have to say to sleep peacefully at night." Murphy muttered in return, barely looking away from the bloody wound created by the arrow. She wondered briefly who the hell had been walking around with a damn bow and arrow during the Apocalypse, but she supposed that it was a smarter idea. You know, considering the fact that any noise attracted the flesh eating monsters like a moth to a bug zapper. "Now, I'm gonna need to pull this out to get a better look at the wound, so take a deep breath and think 'bout something else, 'kay?" She said pleasantly as she took a firm hold of the weapon with one hand while placing the other on Felipe's lower back for leverage.
"Wait, what?" Before he could even protest, the weapon was yanked out and Felipe was howling in pain. "Girl, what the hell?!"
"Shut it. I don't got time to be gentle with you now, Felipe, so don't even expect it at this point." She said bluntly before she placed the arrow tip down in a long cup of water she'd prepared before hand. She picked up a gauze pad and quickly placed it over the wound before the blood could gush out any further. She was now glad that she'd already placed gloves on her hands; she hadn't expected that much blood to come out. "Tell me what happened."
"I don't want to talk about it." Felipe grunted as he looked straight ahead at the opposite wall.
"Too fucking bad. You're gonna need a distraction for when I start stitching, so you better get over it and start spilling the beans." Murphy replied as she lifted the gauze slightly and took a look at the blood flow; it had slowed slightly, so she was confident enough that she could take her hand away from him and he wouldn't bleed to death while she cleared the remaining blood away with a cloth that she'd poured a decent amount of peroxide on. She continued her scolding once she began to prepare her thread and needle for stitches. "Swallow your damn pride for once."
"Well, shit... Fine." Felipe then proceeded to tell her of how he, his younger cousin Miguel, and Jorge had been tasked in going to get the fabled bag of guns in the middle of the city. He'd yelped once she began to stitch his behind closed, but didn't object and continued with his story. They both knew very well that they didn't have very much in the way of morphine, so it was no secret that it wouldn't be used in this surgery. He would get some pain killers after she was done, he knew.
"Wish I'd been there." Murphy smirked, placing a fresh gauze pad over the neatly stitched wound. "Would've shaken the man's hand."
"Not funny, chica." Felipe rolled his eyes at her comment, but he knew she was just joking around. That was her way in any sort of situation; to crack a joke and brighten the atmosphere with her wise-ass cracks.
"I thought it was." She pouted as she placed tape over the gauze and proceeded to strip her bloodied gloves off and went to wash her hands mechanically. With a sigh, she continued. "I used dissolving stitches, so they should go away on their own. But take it easy for a few days, okay? Don't move. I'll get you some more pants, an wet rag, and some kickass pain killers." She cheerfully patted his back and walked out of the room.
A few hours later, Murphy had been informed by Guillermo that they had competition for the bag of guns. A sheriff, as it would seem, with his backup being the redneck who had shot Felipe and a large black man. They had taken Miguel hostage, much like they had done for the Asian, whom had been introduced to her as Glenn.
Currently, Murphy was sitting with the elderly and Glenn in the rec room, one of the teacup chihuahuas placed in her lap as she conversed with their apparent company.
"Pizza delivery, huh? Kinda impressive." Murphy mused with a smirk to the Asian next to her on the stage located behind where Mr. Gilbert and Felipe's grandmother (affectionately named by all as Abuela) sat playing a calming game of checkers.
"Not as impressive as frequent surgery." Glenn replied with a small shrug of his shoulders.
She nodded with a small hum. "More like in training. Before all this, I was working on my thesis for a doctorate. Had barely finished it before the world started goin' to hell. That, my friend, is eight years of medical school gone to shit."
"I wouldn't say that." He smiled in return. "I mean, medical care is pretty useful now-a-days. You know, since the dead are walking and we're on our own practically? No more hospitals and all."
"Yeah, suppose you're right." Murphy agreed, knowing that the Asian was, indeed, right. People out there were getting hurt left and right, so having a person with medical school on their resume around was pretty awesome. It's why the Vatos had been so quick to take her in when they first met her. Well, she thought so, anyways. It definitely wasn't because of her stunning personality and looks. It had to be for her skills.
A choking sound caused both Murphy and Glenn to snap their heads to the side to see Mr. Gilbert having an asthma attack. Murphy jumped to attention, vaguely taking notice of the yip the chihuahua let out.
"Abuela, please, can you find your grandson and bring him here quickly? He has Mr. Gilbert's inhaler and I have to stay with him." Murphy quickly asked the old woman as she knelt beside the old man. Before she could blink, Abuela was out the door and rushing off to find Felipe.
"Is he gonna be okay?" Glenn questioned worriedly, watching as Murphy mumbled softly to the old man.
The Mexican standing beside him, whom Murphy had called Carlito earlier, replied quietly. "Si. Murphy just needs to keep him calm until Abuela gets back with Felipe."
Not too long after that, the old lady came tottering back in with Felipe right behind her, as well as three men that Murphy didn't recognize, but Glenn definitely did. She could only assume that these were the men that had been the ones that were trying to take the bag of guns earlier. Murphy quickly moved out of the way and stood behind Mr. Gilbert, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly as Felipe approached with the old man's inhaler.
"Just breathe. Just relax." Felipe said automatically as soon as the inhaler was working its magic. Murphy smiled in content at seeing Mr. Gilbert slowly fall back into how he was before, but she quickly turned her attention to the new guests when they began arguing with Glenn.
"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man!" The black man scowled and Glenn raised an eyebrow at him, turning to look at the three chihuahuas sitting in their doggy bed a few feet away. One of them stood and yipped loudly.
"Could I have a word with you?" The sheriff asked Guillermo angrily, but before they could walk off down the hall, the leader of the Vatos turned to look at Murphy with raised eyebrows, motioning his head for her to follow. She nodded and held up a finger, so he turned and led the new comers and Glenn down the hall to an empty office. Murphy could understand why Guillermo wanted her to follow; she had become his unofficial second-in-command over the month she'd lived there. When he wasn't around, people went to her with their questions and concerns. She had let him handle this little problem concerning the guns this far because she figured it wouldn't be very threatening to them to go against a petite, pasty skinned woman rather than a fairly tall and muscular tattooed Mexican gang leader.
After she made sure that Mr. Gilbert was feeling better and in capable hands with Felipe, she made her way down the hall to where Guillermo was with the strangers. She caught the sheriff's next question as she walked into the room as she nervously pulled on the sleeves of her baggy gray knit sweater.
"What about the rest of your crew?"
"The Vatos come and go." Murphy answered before Guillermo could as she announced her presence to the men. They all turned their attention to her and she pursed her lips nervously before she continued. "They check in on their relatives...some stay, some leave. Some we don't even expect to come back after a couple weeks. I'm always happy when they stay, though." She smiled and took a seat in the comfortable chair next to Guillermo, still playing with the edges of her sweater. "It's good to have the big meat heads around."
Guillermo rolled his eyes at her wording and turned to the slightly confused sheriff. "What Murphy means is that we need the muscle. The people we've encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind...plunderers. The kind that take by force."
"That's not who we are." The sheriff replied vehemently.
"That's not the point." Murphy stated with a nonchalant shrug. "Your redneck over there?" She nodded her head to the narrow eyed man holding his crossbow like it was attached to his arm and received a glare in return. "I'm assuming he's the one that shot Felipe in the ass. Not to mention, you took little Miguel as a hostage. What'd you expect us to do?" She had a point and the strangers knew it.
"Guess the world changed." The black man replied seriously.
"No." Guillermo remarked with a shake of his head. "It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The Vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves."
"Hey, it keeps them busy, G." Murphy told him softly with a small smile. "It's better than them out in the city trying to take the Freaks down." She turned to look back towards the sheriff with that same smile. "The rest of us that know nothing 'bout cars? We barred up all the windows, got the doors all welded shut but that one entrance."
"The Vatos, they go out; scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait. The people here; they all look to me now and when they can't find me, they go to Murphy here. I don't even know why."
"Because they can." The sheriff remarked with conviction, handing over the shotgun he held in his hands. Murphy smiled at that, but took notice of the redneck's annoyance at them.
"Murphy, why don't you go and round up some medical supplies for them to take as payment?" Guillermo offered as he glanced at her. He and the sheriff, whom had introduced himself as Rick had been dividing up the bag of guns and ammunition.
"Oh, that's not needed." Rick quickly refused, but the redneck wasted no time in jumping in.
"Like hell it's not." He scowled from where he was leaning against the wall by the door. "You're givin' 'em half our guns an' bullets. Least they can do is hand over some medical shit."
"He's right." Murphy shrugged, standing and wiping her hands on her ripped jeans in habit. "We have some stuff we can spare. I'll get right on it, G." She confirmed her understanding of the order as she headed out the door and walked towards the main storage room.
Using the key from her pocket, she unlocked the door and stepped into the room with a small sigh. She was the only one with the key. It was merely for security reasons, but Guillermo didn't like it. If someone ever wanted to take their supplies, they wouldn't hesitate to attack Murphy once they knew she had the only entrance into the room. What Guillermo didn't seem to understand was that she knew how to take care of herself and she'd rather that she have the key and not put anyone else at risk.
"Why are you here?" A voice from behind her caused her to jump in surprise, causing the package of bandages she was holding to fly through the air and drop to the ground behind her. She snapped around with wide brown eyes to see that it was the redneck. He was staring at her with obvious amusement in his blue eyes.
"Dammit, what's wrong with you? You don't sneak up on people like that! Shit." She cursed as she bent and retrieved the bandages from the floor. "What the fuck are you doin' anyways?"
"Rick wanted me to keep an eye on ya'." He answered bluntly, propping himself up against the door frame as he continued to watch her stuff more of the "medical shit" into a small black back pack she had found in one of the cupboards. After a moment of silence, he spoke up once more. "You didn't answer my question."
"Why I'm here? Well, it started with a meeting between a man and a woman. They fell in love, got married. And you see, when two people love each other so much, they-"
"Stop." He snapped, knowing where she was going with her dialogue. She smirked and giggled lightly at his glare, but continued working nonetheless. "You know what I meant."
"You mean with the Vatos? They took me in when I needed them. Plain and simple. No big story behind it." Murphy shrugged nonchalantly and could feel his eyes on her back as she continued to work in an uncomfortable silence. She was slightly unnerved by his staring, but didn't let him see that it bothered her. She wasn't used to being stared at; she wasn't exactly what most people in Georgia considered to be "the perfect woman". These Georgian men seem to be more attracted to the tall, tooth-pick thin, gorgeous, male-dependent kind of woman. The only thing that Murphy would ever associate herself with any point on that list would be the fact that she was skinny; she used to try to gain weight, while others tried to lose it in high school. Other than that, Murphy wasn't much to look at; she was short with small breasts and a small ass. So it was curious why someone as manly looking as the redneck would be staring at her for. Didn't help that he was pretty handsome, even with all the sweat and dirt covering him; the man literally looked like he'd crawled out of the woods before he came into the town. Murphy could honestly say without shame that when she imagined a man, this redneck came pretty damn close to her definition.
"Why do you stay?" His voice broke through her thoughts, but his question confused her. She turned to look at him with raised eyebrows and a curious frown. "Here. Doubt they really need a doc too much around here. These people would drop dead with or without ya'."
"You should respect your elders." She returned blankly and went back to placing a few tubes of different ointments and sun screen into the bag. "I stay because I have no way out of the city. When I find a way, I'm heading for either the CDC or Fort Benning. I don't know these people well enough to stick around and risk my own skin. It's only a matter of time before some other group comes through and wants to take over. They'll be bigger, faster, and stronger. I can already see it coming." The last sentence was spoken with a sad frown, but the redneck could see that she had already come to terms with what would happen if she stuck around the place for much longer. She'd probably been planning for her leaving since she first got to the damn place.
"Can't just make a run for it?"
"If I wanted to die, sure." She smirked cheekily, zipping the bag up and closing the cupboard she'd just been in. "I've got a gun, yeah, but bullets can only get you so far. I'd rather have a safe passage that's guaranteed." As she made to walk past him and out the door to head back to where Guillermo and the others were, she paused thoughtfully and turned to look up at the tall man standing beside her. "I never got your name."
"Never gave it." He grunted back easily and there was a pregnant awkward silence that followed as the two just continued to stare at each other blankly. Finally after a full minute of that silence, he opened his mouth. "Daryl Dixon."
She smirked with a nod of her head. "Murphy Singer." With that, the petite brunette turned and trotted out of the room without another word. Daryl stared after her curiously; she was a strange woman. She stared him down until he gave her what she wanted; not many women would look at him in the first place, let alone look him in the eye like that. Then again, it'd been a long time since he'd been around any women that didn't look down their nose at him. He wasn't pointing any fingers, but if he got one more snooty glare from that Lori bitch, he'd be the first one in line to shoot her straight through the skull. It's safe to say that he was far from ever considering taking her on as an ally. She'd sooner sacrifice him than help him out in a jam and he knew it; he was just some redneck trailer trash that was only good for food and protection. It's why the group put up with Merle for so long; he and his brother always came as a package deal and everyone knew that. Daryl didn't necessarily know what he'd do now that Merle was gone. Should he stay with the group or try to make it on his own? He figured he'd make the decision on the way back to camp.
"Alright." Murphy grinned as she handed the bag in her hand over to T-Dog. "This bag has everything you could possibly need in case of an emergency. Sutures, bandages, ointments... Only thing it doesn't have is antibiotics, sadly enough."
"Why no antibiotics?" The black man couldn't help but to ask her.
"Hmm? Oh, uh... We kinda don't have any. Well, not anymore. I had to give the last ones to Felipe when he came back with an arrow in his ass." She said this all cheerfully and turned away so quickly that T-Dog didn't have the chance to question her further. He raised his eyebrows as he watched the petite woman head over to talk to Guillermo; she was definitely a strange one.
"So what's up?" Murphy asked their fearless leader once she'd reached him. Guillermo had motioned her over when she was talking to T-Dog and she was curious as to what he needed to talk to her about now. Guillermo wasn't really one to talk on a leisurely basis, so she knew it was probably something important.
"Maybe you should consider going with them when they leave, chica." He told her bluntly and she had to raise her eyebrows at his simple statement. "You're always telling me that you'll leave as soon as you get the chance. Well, here's your chance."
"G, I know I said that, but you guys need me here." Murphy sighed with a shake of her head, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You've been training Felipe and Miguel since you got here."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean a damn thing when they've only been training for a fucking month, G, and you know it."
"They know enough to keep us alive, Murphy." Guillermo sighed, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye seriously. He was determined for her to get his point. "I was talking with Rick. They have no medic. They need someone looking out for them out there. We'll be fine on our own."
"And it's safe to say that you already asked Rick to take me with them?" She raised a sarcastic eyebrow and was not surprised when Guillermo nodded his head in affirmation to her question. She didn't even have to ask to know the answer and they both knew it. "Are you sure, G? I can stick around for a few more days before taking off."
"Chica, you said that when you first got here. It's been a month since then and you're still here. Now, Rick and his crew are willing to take you with them, but you need to get your stuff and leave."
"Trying to get rid of me now?" She finally smirked, knowing that he was right. This could be her only chance to get out. Sure, she'd miss the people in the retirement home, but she had to think of herself for once. She knew that she could survive better outside better than being cooped up with the elderly all day. She'd be able to do more for the group she was in and she knew it. She hated feeling helpless, knowing that at any moment people or even Freaks could come bursting through the doors and take them all out in one fell swoop. She was selfish, she knew that. But with the world being the way it was, you kind of had to be selfish to stay alive now-a-days.
Guillermo only smirked and shoved her shoulders lightly away from him. She grinned and turned, heading towards the room that she'd claimed as her own, right next to her office. Along the way, she walked past Daryl, Rick, and Glenn and turned, walking backwards as she spoke to them.
"Hey, Rick? Thanks for letting me leech off of you." She said cheekily and he chuckled, shaking his head at her.
"No problem, Murphy." Her answer was a simple smile before she continued on to gather her belongings.
Her statement and Rick's easy going answer instantly made Glenn and Daryl curious. They both turned to him with expectant raised eyebrows, though Daryl's eyes were a tad bit more narrowed.
"What'd she mean?" Glenn asked after a quick moment of silence.
"Guillermo mentioned that she's been wantin' to get out of here for a while now. I know we don't have a doctor at camp, so I figured she'd be a great asset to the group." Rick told them bluntly as he reached up, wiping the sweat from his forehead absently.
"An' another mouth to feed." Daryl scowled back. It was easily said that he wasn't too keen on bringing back another woman when they'd come into the city to get Merle in the first place. Admittedly, he knew that there would be no less food lost or gained if they'd brought back his brother instead of this woman they'd just barely met; although, he was sure that Merle ate a hell of a lot more than Murphy Singer did. Girl was as skinny as Lori and that was saying something.
"You can grumble about it all ya' want, Daryl." Rick sighed, placing his hands on his hips firmly. "But she's comin' with or without your agreement."
"Fine. But you're the one to look after 'er when shit hits the fan for us." He grunted back moodily, his arms raising to cross over his chest grumpily. He was being pigheaded about not bringing this girl and he knew it, but it still pissed him off that instead of his brother, they were taking home this little slip of a woman. He was also pissed that they hadn't found Merle; he was pissed that his brother hadn't just stayed put for once in his damn life. Daryl was just pissed all around. And anyone that knew him well enough knew that he'd take his anger out on the person responsible for his anger. So, it was no secret that he automatically did not like Murphy Singer when she bounced to a stop next to them, now wearing a black tank top instead of the sweater she'd worn earlier. She had a small backpack thrown over her shoulder, but Glenn's eyes had immediately gone to the gun strapped to her thigh on a holster.
"Whoa, packing heat. Where'd you get that?" The Asian asked curiously.
Murphy looked down at her thigh before she smiled simply back at him. "Gift from my dad when I told him I was moving to Georgia. He gave me lessons before I left and made me promise to go to the shooting range every chance I got. I guess having an overprotective father kind of comes in handy during the Apocalypse, doesn't it?" She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.
"At least ya' won't be too useless." Daryl grunted sourly.
"I can only assume that you're not too happy about me coming with you guys." Her eyes were slightly narrowed, but her smile was still plastered over her face.
"Ya' know what they say 'bout assumin'."
"Makes an ass of you and me. I knew I was an ass; I had no idea you were, though. You learn something new every day; how 'bout that?" She grinned over at Rick. Daryl glared down at her, but didn't say a word. So Murphy simply turned and trotted off to say goodbye to everyone.
"Well, would you look at that..." Glenn mused with a large, toothy smile, watching as the petite woman practically danced away from them and to a small group of masculine Mexican men. He had no doubt that she had them wrapped around her finger. "Finally found someone that could knock heads with Daryl Dixon and not get an arrow in the eye."
"Shut up." Daryl growled, receiving a chuckle from the two men standing with him.
Almost an hour later, the group of men (now with the new female addition) made their way to where they'd parked their vehicle on the outskirts of town. T-Dog had taken it upon himself to carry the bag of medical supplies, which Murphy was very thankful for.
"Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat." Glenn remarking smartly to the significantly more complete sheriff walking beside him, tall and proud now with his hat placed atop his head.
"Don't tell anybody." Rick grinned in return.
"It does complete the outfit rather well." Murphy smirked, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her tattered jeans.
"You've given away half our guns and ammo." Daryl suddenly pointed out, gesturing behind him towards the retirement that was long behind them. The only woman of the group raised an eyebrow at the rough redneck; he seemed especially pissed off now that they were on their way back to this quarry of theirs. Glenn had briefly filled her in on the fact that they had originally come into the city to retrieve Daryl's older brother, whom had been left behind by accident. She could understand the anger a bit more, all things considered.
"Not nearly half." Rick rolled his eyes at the redneck's overreacting attitude.
"For what?" Daryl couldn't help but to continue on with his snappish voice and narrowed eyes. "Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long ya' think they got?"
"How long do any of us?" The sheriff replied simply and Daryl looked like he was gonna continue arguing, so Murphy grunted and spoke up.
"Dixon, you really wanna walk all the way back and demand the guns and ammo back from a group of old people that gave you a doctor and an ass load of medical supplies in return?" She raised her eyebrow condescendingly. "Kind of a dick move, if you ask me."
"Works out great 'cause I didn't ask ya'!" Daryl snapped right on back.
"Didn't need to, dill hole." Murphy rolled her eyes, turning her attention away from the suddenly angry redneck to the empty road ahead of them.
"Oh, my God..." Glenn suddenly proclaimed.
"What?" Murphy asked worriedly, her hand immediately going to the handle of her gun in preparation for a fight of some kind.
"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl looked around frantically, causing the brunette to snap her attention to him with wide, confused brown eyes.
"Please tell me you did not just ask that God forsaken question!"
"We left it right there! Who would take it?" Glenn scanned the surrounding area to make sure that they hadn't just left it in an area further ahead and just happened to forget where exactly they'd left it in the few hours they'd been in the city. Hell, finding a severed hand rather than a heavily dehydrated Merle, searching through a whole building for the missing redneck, going through multiple Walkers to get the bag of guns, being kidnapped and ransomed, and then saved was a long day's work; he's surprised that he could even remember what all had even happened that day, let alone where they'd left the damn vehicle.
"Merle." Rick said, recognition entering his eyes upon thinking of the missing Dixon. Who else could it have been?
"He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp." Daryl mused thoughtfully. Murphy frowned at this in contemplation. What little she knew about the older Dixon was that he'd been left behind on the last run into the city and this group of men had returned in order to find him and the bag of guns now hanging from Rick's back. It was understandable why he would've wanted to get revenge against the group that had left him behind and forced him to saw his own hand off in order to escape alive. She knew, however, that the man was probably crazy from heatstroke and dehydration by this point.
So with a determined step in her stride now, Murphy continued to walk forward.
"Where the hell ya' goin'?" Daryl called after her once he'd noticed her walking ahead of where the men had stopped. She turned to look at them, her fingers tugging innocently on the straps of her backpack as she walked backwards.
"I am walking to camp since there appears to be no vehicles in the immediate area. Therefore, I suggest we best start walking." She smiled brightly and turned forward once more, her messy curls swinging behind her and around her shoulders with the bounce in her step.
Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and Daryl stared after the seemingly cheerful woman for a moment; she was seriously saying they walk all the way back to camp in this mind numbing Georgia heat? She must be crazy.
But, with a sigh and a slouch in his own form, T-Dog started after her; his mother had raised him to not question a woman when she put her mind to something. It didn't take long for the others to join them along the way. The men had long since learned that a couple mile walk wouldn't take them long if they put their minds to it. The sun was still high in the sky, so they knew they had the time to get there before night fall if they didn't run into any trouble and stayed on track.
By the time night fell, however, they weren't nearly as close as they thought they'd be. Hell, they thought they'd be at the camp before the moon rose in the sky. They were all starving by the time they turned onto the long, steep road that would lead them up to the quarry. Murphy had packed them each water bottles, but she didn't think it would take them this long for them to get back, so she hadn't brought any food along with them. And they were suffering from it now.
"I fin' Merle again, Imma kill the sumabitch." Daryl grumbled under his breath, wiping absently at his neck with his red rag.
"Get in fuckin' line." Murphy grunted from around the mouth of her water bottle. The sun had long since gone down, but it barely took the heat out of the atmosphere. It was one of the less desirable parts of Georgia and something they all wished didn't have to happen during the end of the world. To make it worse, Murphy wasn't quite as used to the heat as the men were; she'd been cooped up in the retirement home for the majority of the time and barely went outside unless it was to the pharmacy with the protection of Felipe, Miguel, and Jorge. Guillermo hadn't trusted her word too often about her ability to handle herself and had remained firm with her having her own little circle of bodyguards whenever she went outside the retirement walls. She'd been too valuable for them to lose at the time. "I don't even know the mother fucker and I'm pissed at him."
"Within good reason." Glenn remarked stiffly, accepting the water bottle she handed over to him and taking a hardy swig. It made Murphy feel sorry for anybody that was a germophobic in this world. You could go days without a shower out here and it was easier to share things like water and food like this.
"Ain't doin' no good complainin'." Rick reminded them from ahead, shaking his head when he was offered the water next. Murphy frowned at that and continued to hold it out to him. With a sigh a slight smile, he took the bottle and took a small sip. That seemed to satisfy the ex-surgeon-in-training enough for her to pocket the bottle once more into her bag.
"Yes, but it's something we can all agree on at the moment." Murphy said smartly, shoving her hands into her back pockets tiredly. She knew that once she got to this quarry of theirs, the first thing she'd probably do would be to get some dinner, about a gallon of more water, and only then would she formally introduce herself to the people there. Yeah, it was rude as hell, but did she really seem like the kind of person to care much? "And it's too fucking quiet for me."
"Quiet's good." T-Dog stated easily, looking around them carefully at the trees for any sign of movement. "Means we can hear any Walkers before we see them."
"Walkers?" She raised an eyebrow at the term, not having heard it before.
"Dumb dead bastards?" Daryl said sarcastically and she nodded in understanding.
"Hmm... We called them Rarezas." At the weird looks she'd received from the men walking with her, she smirked and decided to let them in on why they called them that. "It's Spanish for 'oddities'. The guys came up with it; their word, not mine. I like Walkers a hell of a lot more, though."
"You know Spanish?" T-Dog asked in quiet interest. If she could speak fluently, it'd be just another surprise to add to her personality.
"Took six years of it when I was in school, but...I fuckin' sucked. I cheated on most tests." Murphy smirked absently, thinking back to all the times she'd sat next to her Mexican friend Yasmine and cheated off her back in her last year of Spanish class in high school. In New Mexico, you couldn't graduate without passing Spanish II, so she'd been forced to take the God forsaken course and had just been lucky enough that the majority of her friends were Hispanic. "Don't know what it is about languages, but they don't click quite as well as the human anatomy and biology did."
Before any of the men could say anything more on the matter, a gunfire sounded, followed by even more along with screams of agony and shock. The five of them took no time in picking up their pace, knowing that the noise could only be coming from one place: the quarry. And there were way too many gunshots for just Merle Dixon to be the cause of it all.
Once they'd reached the campsite, it was complete chaos and they quickly took action against the Walkers going for the campers. While Murphy hadn't quite fought as many Walkers as they had, she knew enough to aim for the head. At this point, being quiet wasn't an option and she vaguely hoped that the screams, yelling, and gunfire wouldn't draw anymore Walkers or bad survivors around.
After everything was said and done, Murphy looked around wildly and took in all the death, both undead (now dead) and the loss of more than half of what seemed to be the campsite. There was only a few handfuls of people left and the devastation in the air was obvious. She didn't know any of these people, and yet she felt sorrow for them. They had most likely been good people that hadn't deserved this, but she knew that death was inevitable at this point. It was only a matter of time before their time ran out. And the clock was ticking for each of them. Some of them would live longer...and some wouldn't.
Author's Note (Pt. 2): Well? Questions? Comments? Concerns? Tell me anything that could help me with developing Murphy Singer more. Do you like her? Is she interesting? Can she be the crazy woman we need in order to break through Daryl freakin' Dixon's hard shell he insists on keeping around himself? Am I portraying their accents well enough? Constructive criticism is encouraged!