A/N: This author's note is a little late, I know, but I forgot to say a few things. :3
I do not own anything (such as the characters, other than Ayden, and the titles of the chapters) and the only thing I claim as my own is the thought process, my original characters, etc.
Anyways, enjoy!
I thought I was going to get out of the Home Depot alive, until my super special, absolute favorite Beretta M9 fell down a vent on account of me tripping over my own pack. That was when I started having second thoughts.
"Shit!" I unintentionally yelled out loud, quickly covering my mouth and crawling toward the iron grate. The plunk of my gun hitting grimy water must've slipped my mind while I was freaking out. My knees, exposed by the gigantor holes in my favorite jeans, were scraped from the scratchy cement floor. I really hoped I didn't catch any diseases, especially the worst kind.
Most commonly, the flesh eating, decay secreting, vomit inducing people who caught the disease was referred to as Walkers. Being the innovator I was, I labeled them as shit eating waste of bullets. And that's just because I could easily outrun any of them.
"Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the squares of iron and attempting to lift. The grate was wielded shut.
I sat there a moment, not noticing that I was wasting time I didn't have. Losing my Beretta was like losing my family. I sighed heavily and sat by the grate, concentrating on the repetitious clang of Walker fists pounding on the windows from below. The next thing I knew was grabbing my pack and running for my life.
There were hundreds, thousands of them coming after me, smelling fresh blood that oozed out of my arm that got cut when I took the fall. I didn't even need to go to town that day, but something compelled me to go. Apparently, my intuition wanted to kill me.
I ran out of the office lobby, forgetting the looted supplies I had collected before I fell. Why did I have to be so clumsy? I asked myself. Oh wait, that's right. I'm not.
The only thing between me and the Walkers now were a barricade of cars lined up from one block to the next. Somebody must've planned ahead. It reminded me of that one volcano movie. Remember that one? The one where they put up the concrete barriers to stop the tremendously slow flow of lava? Well instead of lava heading right towards me, I had a much faster crowd of Walkers making a beeline toward my veins. And they can climb over shit.
"There," I whispered, eyeing a white van that had to be at least 7 feet off the ground. I ran towards it, risking the oncoming Walkers would find my position and attempt to climb the van before I did. Before reaching the top, I sat on the hood and quickly grabbed a revolver I close to never used. In fact, I actually never used it. Piece of shit jammed like a rock in gears. I climbed on the roof, practically awaiting my death. The Walkers finally reached my position, clawing and grabbing at the van as if I was actually going to lower myself for the sake of their animal like hunger. I knew it wouldn't last; they would find a way to get up here. Sooner or later.
Ten minutes past. The Walkers were starting to figure out the hood was shorter than the top. Two attempted to climb up, but I forever silenced them with my revolver. It was getting tedious. Just like they couldn't stay down forever, I couldn't stay up there forever. Just as I was about to search for an alternative escape route, I stood up and swung around to face a strikingly familiar crossbow pointed directly in between my eyes.
"Woah, don't shoot man!" I yelled, staring at the unshot crossbow bolt. I considered dropping my gun until he quickly removed the bow from my face and hastily grabbed me by the forearm.
"Just making sure you weren't bitten," the man informed me. His mind seemed to be occupied with something more important. But so was mine; I had definitely seen him before.
"I would say thanks but I know you checked for your own benefit."
"How many rounds you got?" He asked, ignoring my comment and scanning the Walker crowd that slummed toward us. I quickly obeyed his question and counted silently.
"Four," I huffed breathlessly and continued to hold my breath until the man let go.
"Dammit," he swore, "Merle should be here by now."
"Wait a second. Merle? Like, the guy who almost shoved me off a rooftop the last time we met? Daryl, we meet again," I tsked, noticing that he remembered me even though it was obvious he was trying to hide it. I too scanned for the hot headed companion of his that almost has killed me before in the past. When nothing was to be seen except green and blue rotting flesh, he sighed impatiently and let a couple of rounds on two close Walkers. He was amazingly precise, an extreme improvement to his skills that almost had got us all eaten.
"He should've been here by-"
A roaring echo was heard, coming from the back of the Walker crowd. He eyed suspiciously but hopefully to the end of the parade, and his eyes grew in anticipation when a roaring military grade jeep soared over the Walker horde and squashed everyone in his path.
"Whee hoo! Get outta the way, dead fucks!" Merle called. Once he got to our position on top of the white van we had been perched on for less than 5 minutes (but with the way Daryl was huffing he made it seem like hours), he slapped my saviors open hand and then held it out in front of me.
"Mi'lady," Merle said with fake regality, which would be pretty funny if not for the threatening situation we found ourselves in, "It's been so long, I've missed that sweet, sweet smile of-"
"Can't say the same, I'm afraid," I softly interrupted with equally fake politeness, taking his hand as he practically threw me in the front seat. Daryl sat in his respective place in the back, setting his crossbow in a seat as if it needed somewhere to sit too.
"Safety first, children," Merle mocked and slammed a seatbelt on me before squealing out of the skyscrapers parking lot. The jeep was incredibly roomy, other than an abundance of carefully selected weaponry that lined the gap between me and Merle. I glanced at him every once and awhile; he had a very serious posture about him, but with what tone his brother used saying his name, it sounded the opposite. Speaking of Daryl...
"I didn't get the chance to ask you last time, but why'd you save me from falling off the roof?" I asked the man, twisting in the seat to find him watching me the whole time. Admittedly, I found him extremely attractive. Something about blood and dirt turned me on anyway.
"Instinct, I s'pose," Daryl quickly said, rising my level of questions. I nodded in understanding anyway.
"And you must be Ayden, right?" Merle asked, taking his eyes off the road to meet mine. They were brown, like his brothers. I could tell they had quite an age difference, though.
"How'd ya know?" I asked in astonishment, thinking of how he remembered from all those months ago. Sarcasm, people. Use it wisely. It had actually only been about two weeks.
"Well, I betcha 'member the last time I saved your skinny little ass. You mentioned it then."
"Whatever, let's not quibble over a fuckin' name, let's get down to brass tacks," I barely could hold in a snicker when Merle looked at me like I was an escaped nuthouse patient, "How did you guys find me?" I asked, looking back and forth between Merle and Daryl. They both rolled their eyes.
"Until now, you've been surviving on your own, right? And with what, a single Beretta? Our combat skills are abysmal compared to yours. With a rep like that, you're not hard to find," Daryl fascinated, looking up at me after he was done speaking. The blank stare I beamed must've concerned him since shortly after speaking he evaded my gaze and went back to contently staring out the window. Er, what used to be a window.
"Hey, watch yourself. I wouldn't go that far," Merle grinned and glared at Daryl through the mirror.
"That still doesn't answer how you guys found me."
"You really want to know?" Daryl cautiously asked. I turned again and looked deep into his eyes.
"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't."
Daryl gave Merle a shaky nod and he shrugged carelessly.
"We've just been keeping... a close eye on you, is all," Merle casually told. I raised my eyebrows.
"Are you telling me you guys actually never left?" I asked, astonished. The pang of emptiness I felt that morning wasn't necessary after all.
"Only out of eyesight, baby," Merle answered, his voice inching up an octave.
"Again, what makes me so special? I mean, I appreciate the flattery and all, but-"
"Listen, the last time we ran into you, we were impressed with your skills. Most of 'em you're wielding are important and transferrable," Daryl seriously described. I held in another giggle; I'd forgotten how smart he sounded describing things.
"Your quick thinking is what we need, cause 'da lawd knows we don't got that."
"Fuck it, I'm in this shit for sure. What do I do?"
"Yeah," Merle howled, nodding in acceptance and looking back to his brother.
"I thought you'd be one of those bitchy girls when I first saw ya, I'll tell ya the truth," Daryl laughed and laid back in his seat.
"I'll be blunt here. What's in it for me?"
"Gotta get to the point sooner or later, I s'pose. A better chance of survival," Daryl amended, crossing his arms in await to my reply.
"Hey, who said I need a better chance? I was completely fine by myself."
"But everyone wants-and needs-a better chance of survival. Besides, I totally bailed your ass back there, and the last time before," Daryl laughed and shook his head as if he was expecting that reply.
"Please, I coulda handled myself," I laughed along with him and eyed Merle's sly glares towards me.
"If I wasn't there to catch your ankle, you'd be Walker chow."
"If you weren't there, I wouldn't have been dangling off the roof in the first place!"
"Children, children. Settle the fuck down. Ayden didn't give me an answer. So, we invite ya to join our little group. Waddya say?"
"It's a very prestigious complement, really. 'S once in a lifetime thing for Merle, invitin' someone like this," Daryl started, pausing for a moment, "Besides, I kinda like you."
I blushed a shade of deep red that could rival my neon red skinny jeans until Merle grinned at me and shifted his hands.
"He doesn't mean like that, sweet cheeks. Maybe later on, but you gotta earn our trust. It's a privilege, not a right," Merle commented, leaning in and whispering in my ear.
"So," I started, clapping my hands as I casually changed the subject, "tell me about yourselves."
"We are the Dixon brothers, Merle and Daryl, at your service," Merle boasted proudly.
"Well, yeah. I already know that."
"Oh yeah. Your name gets to go first. Like always," Daryl snared and held in a snicker.
"Hey, I was first anyway. By twenty years," Merle said and looked over to scale my reaction, "Hell yeah," he added as I sucked in a breath.
"That's quite a ways," I nodded and raised an eyebrow when they both stared at me, "What?"
"Well don't expect us to talk and not get anything in return."
"That I was not insinuating. Okay, well, my name is Ayden Arezzo. 27 years of age," I intentionally left my race out, only to be obviously assumed by them.
"Italian, huh? So where you from?" Daryl asked, listening in closely as if there'd be a test on this later.
"Originally I was born in Los Angeles, California. Moved around a bit when I was adopted at 16, but ended up finding home in Belleville, New Jersey where I met the love of my life," I lied, sucking in a breath after I realized I just told a huge lie. Subconsciously.
That's always how I pictured my life to be, happily married with two annoying ass kids living somewhere along the beach. I quickly learned the truth at a young age; how—and where—you grew up directly affected how your life turned out. In my case, I was a dumpster baby, born and raised by the few women who took me in on 164th street in Queens, New York. But more on that later.
Daryl suddenly leaned back and Merle studied his brother's odd behavior.
"Why so upset, my dear brother?" Merle laughed and pulled into an abandoned grocery store. Storm clouds were forming in the south, growing closer as the wind blew. I watched lightning strike the city skyline, before I knew it we were out of the big city and into the countryside.
I exhaled when they didn't seem to catch my lie. "Yeah, don't get too worked up. There was no, uh, no mutual feeling."
"I'm not upset," he denied, "who said I was upset?"
"That defensive tone ya got there says different," I added, raising a conspicuous eyebrow as he got out and opened my door.
"Why're you guys always out to get me?"
A blush formed at the base of his cheeks as I slid out of the jeep (I actually had to slide) and hugged him, confirming suspicions I had last time we met. I grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder for him and before following Merle into the King Soopers, I came close to Daryl's ear.
"You're not hiding that blush too well, darling. Not last time and definitely not this time."
I backed away and clicked my tongue before joining Merle's side, leaving Daryl standing confused in the littered parking space.
"Don't worry, sweet checks. He isn't used to getting teased by giiirls," Merle laughed, carrying out the i in girls. I laughed along with him and jumped to the side as Daryl ran up and tackled Merle's back.
"Not this time, you little shit," Merle snared and clenched his teeth, grabbing Daryl by the shoulders and flipping him sideways, leaving him barely touching the ground. Besides age difference, there was another thing the boys didn't have in common. Merle almost towered over his younger brother.
"Is it safe to assume this has happened before?" I laughed, truly deciding just then that I actually wanted to be apart of their clan.
"It isn't safe to assume anything, remember that," Merle said, letting go of Daryl and pointing at me. Daryl fell heavily to the concrete, immediately getting up and dusting off his hole ridden blue jeans.
"One of these days, you old fucker," Daryl insisted, pushing his brother out of the way so he could go first through the store's double doors.
"Ooh, so competitive," I called and walked into the store behind Merle. He stopped before I could get a view of how pathetically empty the place was. "Why the hell'd ya stop?" I attempted to push him out of the way but his large stature didn't budge. In fact, things seemed almost normal. Until Merle moved.
It was a feeding frenzy among at least twenty Walkers. The stench of diseased and decaying flesh filled the air between us and the other kind, leaving my gag reflexes to action until Merle jerked his hand onto my thigh and squeezed. I obeyed what I thought he meant and froze. The Walkers were too focused on the feed to notice us.
"There's a MK-16 in the jeep. Carefully go get it," Merle slightly turned his head and whispered in my ear. I nodded my head once and slowly turned around. I tiptoed through the broken glass that dotted the white linoleum floor, marching carefully around the equally crunchy metal pieces that matched the pattern of glass. It looked like looters (probably pyromaniac, adrenaline junkie guys) blew the doors to pieces. What happened to the good old fashioned way of just breaking glass to loot stuff from a store? I thought I was safe from the litter once I left the store. Thought.
I looked up from the floor to spot the rifle Merle was referring to and started walking confidently to the jeep. Until a crunch was heard from under my foot, sending a huge sigh from the stores entrance. I froze in place until Merle's shout confirmed my fear.
"Go!" He yelled and almost immediately after gunshots echoed loudly in my ears. I sprinted towards the jeep and grabbed the gun, clicking off the safety and running back to the stores entrance. There were more Walkers than I thought, many more than twenty were all headed toward our position at the front. No wonder why Merle told me to get a bigger gun than I thought was necessary. Immediately as I returned to the spot where Daryl was standing before he moved to a strategic place behind a counter, I put my finger on the trigger. Before I laid rounds on a couple of Walkers, I looked at the scene before me. Merle himself looked like he could take care of the situation. Daryl just seemed to be there for crowd control. I barely shot any bullets before the Walkers were all laying on the ground, dead for good.
"Ya know, you coulda helped," Daryl chuckled, taking notice there were only two Walkers that laid in front of me in a bloody crumpled heap.
"I don't understand why you need me," I questioned, resting the rifle on my shoulder and shaking my head. They both shook their heads along with me.
"For situations like the one you both got yourselves in last time," Merle pointed out, putting his shotgun over his shoulders and hanging on it.
"True, that," Daryl agreed, "this was nothing compared to what we've seen."
"Walker hordes?" I asked solemnly, looking up when Daryl looked at me like I was crazy.
"No way," Merle said confidently shaking his head as he scoped the bloody entrance, "d'you know how intellectually advanced Walkers would have to be to hunt in packs?"
"More advanced then it took the time for you to think of 'intellectually advanced'," Daryl snickered and slung his crossbow over his shoulder before collecting arrows from the foreheads of his kill.
"Whelp, looks like I come out on top again," Merle boasted, silently counting the ones without arrows in their eyes and not including the two in front of me.
"Don't rule out the newbie yet," Daryl said and pointed to me with his handful of arrows.
"Yeah, just wait until we're actually in a load of shit," I shone proudly, "that's when I start kicking major ass."
"I'll take your word on it. Let's hope we never run into a 'load of shit'."
"Speaking of shit, why don't we see what's left of this store, huh?" Merle said and threw down his shotgun before rubbing his hands together.
"Not much from what I can gather," I sighed and looked around. Other than a few shelves that lined the entrance walls, empty of course, there were a few shelves directly behind the spot where the feeding was held. The rest of the isles were hidden from our sight.
"Well I say we split up and meet back up here in 5. How does that sound?"
"Sure thing," I said and picked up Merle's gun and gave it to him, "always be prepared, remember that," I mocked.
"Hey, wait," Daryl called to me, struggling to keep up with my bounding steps over the bodies, "jeez, you're quick."
"Yep, if that's one thing you got to learn from me, it's my agility," I bragged proudly, "and what about you? Must have some handy hunting skills on ya, right?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Kinda. Anyway, isn't the point of splitting up is to go separate ways?"
"Sorry," he said, a sad note ringing in his tone, "do you want me to go another way?"
"No!" I said quickly, "I kinda want you- well, you can come with me if you want."
He nodded and pulled his slipping crossbow back to his shoulder. We walked in silence for a while, searching shelves for cans of food or anything salvageable.
"So, what was your life like before shit hit the fan?" Daryl asked casually, shifting through a pile of junk sitting on the floor. He picked up a piece of plastic and attempted to make it into an arrow. I furrowed my eyebrows and stopped shifting through empty cans of fruit.
"That's kinda random," I questioned and looked back at him. He did the same.
"Just trying to make conversation," he shrugged and went back to molding his plastic arrow.
"Perfect to tell you the truth," I lied and braced myself for oncoming jealousy comments. Instead, he stayed with curious grunts. "Everything was awesome. I mean, not exactly perfect but I was content with my life. How bout you?"
"Can't say the same, I'm afraid. Merle's the only person I trusted, the only family I knew, and the only person I half got along with."
Unfortunately, his life resembled what my life was really like more than the fabricated story did. The only true part so far was my name and my age.
He chuckled sadly, stopping his arrow shaping briefly. He looked back at me quickly, and then chuckled again.
"Don't look so sad, my life ain't worth being sad for."
"I bet Merle wouldn't agree with that," I said softly. Even though I could already tell they didn't have the best relationship, Merle still loved and protected Daryl. No matter how much he denied it.
"Nah, he'd jus' tell me that I was no better than the rest."
I felt the truth in his words. As tough as Merle's attitude toward Daryl, it was all just part of survival. No one had better odds of survival than anyone else, when it all comes down to it. We're just luckier than the rest.
"Why do I find it hard to believe that?" I asked, realizing that I was holding the same empty cans for the past ten minutes. I set them down and wiped my hands on my grey pants.
"Because you still refuse to accept what happened."
Silence filled the isle, with the exception of muted frustrated grunts coming from Merle at the other end of the store.
"So," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. Instead, it shook unsurely. "Find anything?"
"To be honest I haven't really been looking."
I laughed emptily and sniffled my nose, waiting for Daryl to stand up. He saw me in distress and reluctantly held out his arms. I practically fell into them.
"I know we haven't known each other for long," I whispered in his ear after spending a few seconds leaning against his shoulder, "but I know you're not just a redneck asshole who listens to whatever his brother tells him to do."
I pulled away from his shoulder, coming only inches from his face. Chills went down my spine as he intently looked into my eyes.
"Yo, love birdies," Merle mocked, making me jump back from Daryl's gaze, "Revisitin' old times?"
"Fuck off, Merle. Last time we almost killed each other. And the time before that," Daryl harshly spat, not letting go of my waist. I inched away as Merle kept staring.
"Sorry if I was, uh, interrupting you. Didn't mean to scare ya, neither."
I sighed, an unusual hint of remorse in Merle's voice. Assuming he was jealous of the fast progress of Daryl and my relationship would be foolish. Yet, it crossed my mind.
"It's fine, Merle. Did you find anything?" I asked, glancing slightly at Daryl. He seemed to shrink back as I stepped closer to see what Merle held.
"'S just some type of cord. Don't know what it is. Might come in handy?"
"Lemme take a look at it," I offered and grabbed the short white cord from his grimy hand. I inspected both ends of it, confident with what I found was a certain car charger that I've been dying to find.
"Sweet shit, Merle! I can't thank you enough," I squeaked and placed my finger over the apple logo that sat on the car plugin.
"I'm glad that you're excited, but... What is it?"
"It's an iPod charger," I giggled and ran out to the jeep, with Merle and Daryl's confused state in tow. Grabbing the pack that I usually carried around with me 24/7, I pulled out a purple cased iPod that currently had my life's contents inside.
"Of all the things you coulda put in that backpack in place of an iPod," Merle sneered, leaning against the jeep's open door.
"Never estimate the power of passion," I lectured giddily, "This baby has saved my life more than once."
"Yeah, and so did this baby," Daryl muttered loudly, pointing to himself, "You don't see me taking up space."
"This is only four inches long and fits in my goddamn back pocket. What're you, like 6 feet?"
"5 foot 10, thank you very much."
"I rest my case," I said and motioned Merle to hand over the keys.
"Oh nuh uh, Missy. Remember what I said about earnin' our trust?" Merle said, grasping the ready to be used, they're-fucking-screaming-at-me keys harder in his palm.
"Yeah, privilege not right," I spoke impatiently, wiggling my fingers and tapping my foot.
"We're leaving anyway," Daryl yelled and threw his crossbow in the back before hopping there himself. I sighed and made my way around the jeep and huffily jumped in the passenger seat. As I waited for Merle to get situated, I plugged the charger into the built in lighters plug.
"Yo, have you ever played shotgun?" Daryl asked, leaning in-between the two front seats. I suspiciously looked down at him.
"Yes."
"I call that into play from now on."
I laughed, sighing and pushing the hair out of my face before looking in the rearview mirror. "How 'bout I drive, Merle sits in back, and you sit in front."
Merle gave off a bellowing laugh. "Keep dreaming, sweetcheeks."
"I dunno, sounds pretty cool to me," Daryl shrugged, laughing when Merle turned around and gave him a death glare. "Never mind then."
