A blur of green trees passed them on the side of the road, and Daryl Dixon was leaning against the drivers' seat of the car, absentmindedly glancing at the stereo, playing some old Stones CD he'd managed to find in the console. Beth Greene sat beside him, one hand holding a map and the other draped out the window, wiggling her fingers through the breeze.
As they approached a seedy shopping center, Daryl pulled up into the parking lot, and the car shuddered to a stop. He and Beth hopped out, and walked wordlessly along the sidewalk, past all of the abandoned shops. "You remember what we're lookin' for?"
Beth nodded. They shuffled along, peering at the signs for a pet store, a pawn shop, a Chinese buffet that had clearly gone out of business years ago… Suddenly, Beth stopped in front of one small store and stared inside at the scantily-clad mannequins on display. The burned-out neon sign in the window read "Angel's Fantasies".
"What the hell?" Daryl murmured to himself.
Beth burst out in uncontrolled giggles. "Oh my god, it's a sex shop! Y'know, one of those places that sells porn by the bushel." She nudged him. "Don't tell me you've never been in one before."
Daryl stood with his arms stiffly crossed, avoiding eye contact. "I ain't even gonna answer that."
"I mean, I haven't either, but I've always been curious. Come on, we have to go in! It'll be fun!"
"We're s'posed to be lookin' for supplies," he grunted. "Ain't nothin' useful we can find in there."
She waggled her eyebrows at him teasingly. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Anyway, I'm 18 - wanna check my ID, Mr. Dixon?" He scoffed, turning his face away so Beth wouldn't notice his flushed cheeks.
"Live a little!" she added over her shoulder.
Beth pried open the door, with Daryl reluctantly following. A layer of dust had settled over everything, stirring up when she went inside and catching sunlight in the air. She sneezed instinctively, then continued in unfazed. Daryl was behind her, looking mortified and sheepish but still stealing furtive glances around the place.
The floor was littered with magazines and DVD cases, and the cash register's drawer was popped open, empty. "Looks like somebody left in a hurry…. Guess it's not really the first place you'd go to loot, doesn't seem like anybody's picked through here."
"Oh, here's something useful." Beth picked up a few boxes of condoms and tucked them in her bag. Daryl gave her the side-eye. "What? They're for Maggie and Glenn." She paused. "We'll find 'em, you know. Soon. And I think they'd be grateful."
Daryl didn't say anything. He sat on the counter, balancing his chin on his bow. "Man… Gotta chase ya down on a damn hunt for booze, now you're frolicking around in a bunch of nudie mags and stripper digs. What's next, body shots and an ass tattoo?" His face remained stoic but the look in his eyes let Beth know he wasn't being unfriendly.
"Sounds fun," she replied with a smirk.
"Smart-ass."
Something else caught Beth's eye. "Ooh!" She raced excitedly over to a shelf full of fancy scented body washes and oils. They were supposed to contain pheromones to attract men. She opened a bottle of lavender-scented massage oil, rubbing it over her hands and under her arms. Who knows, she thought dryly. Maybe I'll get lucky. She stuffed the bottle in her bag, along with a small tube of lubricant, which she figured had to be good for something - maybe fixing that creaky door at the funeral home?
Daryl hopped down and began to creep along the walls, crossbow in hand but at ease, still keeping an eye on Beth. He banged his fist on the doors of the cramped peep show booth.
"Man, I didn't even realize that was a thing," Beth marveled. "Gross. Imagine sitting in other peoples' bodily fluids and trying to get it up."
"Yeah, I'd rather not." A low rattle arose from within the booth. Daryl glanced at Beth, then threw the door open.
An old man leaned against the tiny bench, his pants around his ankles. His body was withered and his face half-rotted away. He let out a low groan that sounded almost like he was painfully wheezing., and slowly met Daryl and Beth with empty gray eyes. One hand pawed lazily in their direction, jaws clamping at the air. He stumbled to his feet, and then fell to the ground with a thud, his pants tripping him up. His torso snapped clean from his legs. The two backed away slowly, as he tried to drag his upper body toward them, wrinkled hands feebly pushing himself forward.
"Poor bastard," Daryl muttered. "Musta been in here since the Turn. Prob'ly died of a heart attack or somethin'."
"Look," Beth noticed. "He doesn't even have any teeth." She paused. "I wonder if he's still, y'know… dangerous."
"Yeah, well, I ain't about to find out." He looked at her solemnly. "They're all dangerous, Beth."
They stood there for a moment, just observing the old man as he drew nearer to them. Finally, Beth unsheathed her knife and drove it into his skull. After peering at him a moment longer, she continued wandering around the store.