Hey y'all! This is my first Walking Dead fic and I'm delighted you've decided to read it. If all goes according to plan it'll be pretty lengthy. Read, review and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. As of my last paycheck, I now own all the current volumes but the series ain't mine.
Daryl knew how to keep a secret. He was a tight lipped son of a bitch, something he came by honestly: His mama had been the same way. Merle, however, was the opposite. Jesus. Merle could go on and on. No force on Earth could stop him from saying what he wanted to say. It was easier for Daryl to control himself. To keep his mouth shut. He didn't need to brag, not like Merle.
"This one's just about full. Look like we hit the jackpot, doesn't it?"
When they were boys, they did everything together. Everything that kids could do, growing up in Bumfuck Nowhere, Georgia. They stole their dad's cigarettes and smoked them behind the liquor store. They beat up the kid with glasses and used his glasses to set ants on fire. They went to church on Sunday morning and on Sunday nights, they threw rocks through the church windows. Merle was always the violent one. The one that wanted to take it one step further. He was the one that shot the Johnson's dog, even though Daryl had been the one to choose a branch from the tree and grit his teeth while his dad gave him 500 licks. He still had a few scars, too.
"Yeah. Real nice, Chinaman."
"Oh, fuck you man. I'm from Korea."
"That don't make one bit of difference."
Glenn pulled the cap of his hat lower and turned his back on Daryl. He continued to siphon gas from the truck, coughing every so often.
Daryl walked further down the deserted highway. He was close and he couldn't pretend otherwise. They were already far enough down the road, far enough away from any civilization, that the highway had been reduced to a four lane road. Two going north, the others south. He knew exactly where they were. How many times had he driven down this road? In about another 10 miles the traffic lights would start. Another 15 or so after that and there it would be. State Road 136. He had always joked with himself, saying that even if the world went to shit that road would still be there. Same as always. Now that the world had actually gone to shit, his belief was just that much stronger. He had to go. They had been at the farm for weeks – maybe even months – and he hadn't gone yet. It wasn't right. And he doubted he could keep the secret much longer. He was bursting at the seams. Unraveling. He couldn't wait.
"Why don't yah head back to camp, boy? Gonna get dark soon."
Glenn wiped his mouth, the back of his hand glistening with spit and gasoline.
"And what about you?"
Daryl straightened his back, tightening his grip on the crossbow. He knew how intimidating he looked. It was something he had once hated, but now? Hell. It was his favorite thing, behind the crossbow. "What? Think I can't hold my own?"
"Not what I said. But I can't show up without you. Everyone'll think you're dead."
"Let 'em think it then," he muttered. "Dumb bastards."
"And then when I tell them you're alive, they'll kill me for letting you go off on your own."
"Fuck them. And you. I got shit that needs doin' and I don't need your yellow ass slowin' me down."
Glenn stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Without even so much as a glance back at Daryl, he loaded the gas canisters into the truck and drove away.
As soon as he was gone, Daryl climbed onto his bike and twisted the throttle. The engine roared to life and he kicked off, crossing the grassy strip to the southbound side of the highway and continued north. It was free of cars. He didn't have to worry about moving anything out of the way. Walkers couldn't get him when he was going 90 and he doubted a cop would pull him over for driving on the wrong side of the road.
Like I said, hope y'all enjoyed! Review. Let me know what you think! And if anyone else is a fellow Atlanta native, let me know. :)