The Road Taken. (Walking Dead x OC)
Rated: T. Gore, possible sex scenes in future chapters. (Rating will change in that case).
Daryl grimaced. It was quiet here. Too quiet.
He and Glenn were asked to go on a short supply run to the local shopping centre. It was a twenty minute drive from the farm, but the town chemist had run dry of it's supplies. He didn't mind, it was a good break from the drama of the group. Someone had been sleeping with that person, and that person was doing something else—Daryl just didn't want to apart of it.
"Hey!" Glenn cried, turning the hunter's attention towards him. "Reckon you could be a lil' more quiet? We still don't know what could be 'ere." He glowered as he made his way towards him. "Oh, sorry about that." Glenn apologised, however still fixated on his discovery. "It's a bag of supplies.. canned food, bottled water and a flash light." He murmured, "Do you think there could be survivors here?" He asked.
There was a brief pause between them. Daryl picked up the backpack, taking a look for himself. He inspected it and every pocket—Glenn was right. He didn't think twice about slinging it over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" The younger asked in protest. "That doesn't belong to us! Whoever it belonged to could be looking for it."
"So?" Daryl asked simply, he didn't seem to care whose it was, "It's ours now." He scoffed. Glenn pouted in disapproval, although he couldn't argue about free supplies. ".. Fine. But if we find the owner, we're returning it." Daryl rolled his eyes at the gesture. "Whatever."
Glenn kept walking. The shops they had passed were not exactly what they were looking for—clothing shops, accessories and nothing of use. He followed the overhead signs towards the foods sections. Hopefully they weren't completely scavenged out by the others before them.
Daryl took notice of how the centre seemed so empty—there were dead bodies here and there but it wasn't as broken and run down as he thought it would be. But then again, it was a shopping centre in the middle of pretty much nowhere. There weren't much people around these parts.
They reached the parts they needed to find. Glenn took his time finding some canned food and medicine, just the general stuff that they needed. Daryl kept a watch, his crossbow on hand just in case they had any surprise guests. The scavenger managed to stock up his backpack to the brim with food and other items they would need.
"There's definitely enough here for us to come back on maybe two or three runs. We should bring more people next time." Glenn suggested as he zipped up his backpacks. Daryl nodded in agreement, rolling the ball of his foot on an empty bottle of beer. How he could go for one of those just about now.
"Con! Is that you?"
Daryl and Glenn went silent. The hunter ducked behind a kiosk and the other remained behind the counter. Daryl shot him a look, making a motion to stay where he was as he crept along the ground—seeking the owner of the voice.
"Come on, man.. where are you?"
The voice wailed, it was deep and masculine and definitely male. That put Daryl more on edge. Once there was no reply, the man stopped speaking. But his footsteps were not soundless. He walked along the tiled floors, his reflection on the windows of the opposing shops. He was carrying a gun.
"Hold it." Daryl seethed, cocking his crossbow once the male came into view. He walked past the corner and came straight into their sights. He was Asian, like Glenn. But not like Glenn his hair was brown, straight and longer. His skin was the same colour and their eyes had the same almond shape. But they held bags of tiredness underneath them. He looked younger, maybe two or three years or more. He was also leaner and skinnier—looking weaker and less worked.
There wasn't much time to observe him when he cocked up his rifle. "How about you give me a reason not to shoot you and your lil' buddy behind the counter." He called, obviously noticing Glenn through the window. "Look, I'm just looking for my friend—not trouble with you nice folks."
However, Daryl didn't lower his weapon. "Hate to break it to you, but we haven't seen a living person since we been 'ere." He nudged his head to where Glenn was, "Ain't that right, Short Round?" Glenn groaned inwardly, but voiced his agreement. "That's true! Sorry to say it.. but whoever you're looking for is gone."
The man scoffed, obviously not buying it. "Oh is that right?" He walked to the side, slowly, but still keeping up his guard. This caused Daryl to cock his crossbow again, finger on the trigger. "How do I know that you didn't kill him, and want to kill me for the clean up?"
"Because we're not bad people!" Glenn cried, his honesty shone through his voice. "How about you walk away and we continue our business 'ere. How's that sound?" Daryl asked, not a plead, but closer to a statement or order. There was a drawn out silence, neither parties voicing a word or making a move.
Until the man faltered, he put down his weapon, keeping it at his side. "Fine. I hear the sincerity in your voice." He admitted. "Which town are you fellows from? I haven't seen anyone.. alive, in months." Daryl rested his weapon too, the tension between them had ceased. For now.
Glenn came out of hiding, hopping over the counter. "We came from a farm about twenty minutes from here." The man arched a brow, "So you're in a larger group?" He asked with simple deduction. Glenn realised his mistake and silently cussed at himself.
"None of your damn business." Daryl retorted. "Don't you have a friend to find?" He mentioned, bringing up this male's initial intentions—finding his friend. He scoffed at his words, shaking his head. "Doesn't look like it. I had a feeling he'd be taking the high road after taking a few more guns than he needed." He chortled.
Daryl raised his brow at the sound of guns. "You have more weapons with you?" He asked, some eagerness expressed in his voice. The group were running low on their firearms, and it wouldn't be a bad thing having more than they needed.
"Why? Don't think I'll be letting them go without a good deal." He smirked, it seemed he wasn't inexperienced with these sort of negotiations. "You're living on a farm, aren't ya? I wouldn't mind living on a farm too." He hinted, it was obvious what he wanted now. There was security in numbers, after all. And his number was down to one.
"Wouldn't count on it." Daryl replied, the younger decided to stay out of this conversation. He didn't know what Rick wanted right now, but it didn't feel right to bring someone in without his knowing. But then again, he had told them how important weapons and supplies were right now.
"You sure? I'm just one, measly person. I know how to handle a gun, and I'm sure there's more farm work to be done. Not just that but.." He trailed off, his eyes rolling to the side. "Please. Just take a look. I've been hoarding for so long—I need to leave this place. More and more lurkers are showing up in this area and I don't think I'll last much longer on my own."
Glenn felt some guilt in his chest. This person seemed like they had been here for a very long time, and they did just lose their friend. It didn't seem like such an awful idea to bring him in. But Daryl's intentions were a little different. "We'll take a look." He hissed, gesturing for Glenn to come along. "But keep in mind. If it's less than you say, you can forget about your chances with us."
The man seemed to understand, letting out a breath of relief. "Right.. let's go then. I haven't seen a lurker here for days, so there's no need for that." He glanced towards Daryl's crossbow, but it appeared he didn't want to let it go. He ignored it.
"How long have you been camping out here?" Glenn asked, walking two or three paces behind the mysterious man. He gave a shrug, "Maybe a week after the whole outbreak. I left the cities and came across a small group—we came here, but they left my cousin and I behind a few weeks ago." Daryl snorted, "Not exactly helping yer' case."
The man laughed, it echoed through the empty centre. It worried Glenn a little bit. "It didn't help that they were white supremacists—rednecks from the South. They never liked us Asians." He eyed Daryl, "No offence." Daryl rolled his eyes, deciding not to reply to his comment. That was more Merle than him.
Glenn laughed awkwardly, the tension between these two made him feel uneasy—but it took Daryl quite some time to even warm up to him. "Doesn't look like there's much damage here. You've seemed to barricade it enough, Chinaman." Glenn noticed how he had shifted the nickname to the new addition. He was a little glad.
The man sighed, "I'm not Chinese. I'm Korean." Daryl looked a little distraught by his answer, not coming up with his usual remark. ".. Something wrong?" He quickly asked, glancing over his shoulder after noticing the silence. Glenn smiled, shaking his head. "No. Nothing's wrong." He peeked over at the hunter, but got no response.
"We're here."
They reached a small corner shop, it appeared that it was a sex shop. Much to Glenn's discomfort. "Don't think anything of it—I thought this would be the last place someone'd look for survivors." The man laughed somewhat awkwardly, but then gestured them to follow him inside.
It was extremely dark. The entrance to the store had some plastic beads dangling from the arch. It looked and felt very typical—not that either of them paid particular attention to these type of stores. They made their way through an aisle of various sex toys and playthings, Glenn paused for a moment to look at one peculiar object in a bright pink packaging. Daryl had to pull him away from it, lest his innocence be dirtied.
The man led them down a small fight of stairs and into another room labelled 'storage'. He unlocked it with a key from his tight pocket. The small room was flooded with full cardboard boxes and lumpy duffle bags. There were two sleeping bags in the corner and not much else.
Daryl headed straight to the duffle bags, knowing exactly what would be in them. The man stood near the doorway with Glenn, who let the hunter go ahead. He knew what he was doing. "What's in the boxes?" He asked, his eyes naturally at them. "Food." He replied simply, "Mostly canned and other non-perishable items.. a supply truck was passing through and it seemed to have broken down. Con and I scavenged what was left of it."
Glenn nodded, how fortunate. He had noticed trucks heading through Atlanta just before the outbreak went viral. Looks like he finally found out what they were for.
"You've got more than enough for at least twenty people." Daryl commented gruffly; counting the weapons he had here and the ammo along with them. "You'd be stocked for longer than I'd imagine." The man smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "With the food and the weapons.. we'd be set for ages." Glenn thought aloud.
"What do you think?" He added, the man remained silent as he let the pair discuss. He was hiding his desperation for a group better than he thought. Daryl mumbled something to himself, then standing up with one of the duffle bags over his shoulder. "Let's go. One person for all of these supplies—not even Shane will complain."
Glenn nodded in agreement. Rick would be relatively pleased, he thought. However, Shane would be on the fence. He figured most of the group would welcome the addition—granted he had the supplies with him. "Help us pack the supplies in the car. We parked out front." Glenn said with a smile, bending over to pick up one of the boxes.
The man grinned. "Sure." He helped Daryl with the second duffle bag, and carried another one of the boxes. Glenn had whispered something to Daryl, who responded with a flat nod. He felt a little nervous at that gesture, until the question posed.
"So, what's your name?"
Thank you for reading. More information of this character will be revealed soon!