The midday sun was hot as hell. Fitting climate for a zombie apocalypse, Daryl Dixon supposed as he trudged through the overgrown grass. His crossbow was slung over his shoulder, his hair plastered to his angular face from sweat. He roughly brushed away a lock of hair in his eye and then his gaze fell upon a dirt road.
"That's it," Aaron said in his usual affable manner. "About a mile up the hill is the resort."
Their feet made dirt tracks on the trail and the heat hung thick in the air around them, all they could hear was their own heavy breathing from the exertion.
"Look, Daryl, I want to say thanks for agreeing to come and recruit with me. Even if this doesn't work out, I'll know we gave it a fair shot. And I know that you can help me make the right decision this time. You can tell the good guys from the bad guys." Aaron hung his head briefly, his eyes tormented with remorse. "I guess I can't."
Daryl stopped walking and turned to look at him. "We'll find people. The right people."
Aaron nodded bravely and after a pause they continued up the path. "If this woman is still there she's somebody worth talking to. She grew crops, was capable of taking down walkers, spent a lot of time reading and painting."
"And you're sure you never saw her with anybody else?" Daryl asked.
Aaron knew Daryl well enough now to know that whatever answer he gave would still not be satisfactory for Daryl; his guard would be up at all times and he would constantly be on the lookout. "No," Aaron said confidently. "I watched the cabins for almost 3 days, I never saw another person. The cabins were locked but I checked through the windows. No other people in there."
Crickets chirped in the dry heat and they walked in relative silence, both contemplating the task ahead. So far on their travels they hadn't found any other people, this was the last stop before heading back to Alexandria. Daryl knew Aaron wanted this to be redemption for his mistake, and Daryl silently hoped it would be.
A familiar guttural growl broke the silence of the late afternoon around them and Daryl turned quickly towards the sound. Leaves rustled under shuffling footsteps from somewhere off to the left and Daryl crept towards the cluster of trees with the experienced stealth of a tracker. The walker snarled again and burst through a tangle of bushes ahead. He lurched drunkenly towards the two men, his arms reaching, his mouth a gaping black maw of coagulated blood and rotted flesh.
Daryl's eyes narrowed; he raised his crossbow and fired without hesitation. The arrow pierced cleanly through the walker's head with a mild splattering of blood and muck. The walker crashed to the ground and was still. Daryl braced his foot against the walker's face and methodically pulled the arrow out of the walker's head which made a mushy, slurping sound that no longer phased him. All business, Daryl wiped the brain fragments off the arrow and stuffed both the blood caked rag and arrow back into his bag.
Without another word they continued up the road, then through the haze ahead a cluster of cabins and deserted campsites suddenly materialized at the crest of the hill. Daryl approached quietly, his crossbow drawn, Aaron moved silently behind him, one hand on his machete. They eased through the gate under a large wooden sign that said 'Pinewood Resort'. The sign hung askew and a crude attempt at a barbed wire fence enclosed the perimeter. Daryl and Aaron gingerly moved through the small opening, eyes sweeping the seemingly deserted grounds. The cabins looked quiet and relatively clean from the outside, Daryl could see a roped off area behind the first cabin that extended down towards the property. Different crops and plants sprouted in narrow rows. Edging closer to the garden and sniffing gingerly Daryl thought he could detect a familiar odor that he had not smelled since before the outbreak. He took another deep sniff and the odor was unmistakable - it was the sweet, acrid sting of marijuana smoke.
Daryl turned to Aaron and put a finger over his lips. "Somebody's here," he whispered. "You smell that?"
Aaron raised his nose to the air and took a sniff as well, his eyes registering surprise. He nodded.
Stepping as lightly as a Mother leaving her sleeping baby's room, Daryl and Aaron crept past the first two cabins on either side and made their way towards the largest cabin by the forest. Aaron had said that was where the woman spent most of her time.
Daryl heard a muffled sound behind them and he stiffened, his body poised to turn and see what had made the noise. Just in front of him Aaron had also frozen in his tracks. Before either of them could turn around or speak they heard the quiet, unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking.
Daryl suddenly felt something cold and hard poke him in the head, he knew it was the barrel of a gun.
"Drop it," a firm voice proclaimed.
Daryl eased his crossbow to the ground. In front of him Aaron laid his machete down as well.
The woman spoke again, sounding a little less brusque now that they had obligingly laid their weapons down. She slowly took a step back, removing the gun from Daryl's head. "Turn around and keep your hands where I can see them."
Turning around Daryl found himself staring at a woman who looked to be in her late twenties. Her deep brown hair fell to her shoulders, a small lock fell gently into her deep hazel eyes. Her full red lips were set into a stern line as she eyed them warily. She still had the gun pointing at them. "Who are you and what are you doing on my resort?"
Aaron knew that tact was not one of Daryl's best traits so he decided to speak up in light of the fact they had a gun pointed at them. "My name is Aaron, and that's Daryl. We come from a settlement of people to the East."
The woman still didn't look convinced. Daryl remembered the smell of marijuana smoke, and thought that the woman's eyes looked a little glazed. However, intoxicated or not, he knew it would not be wise to underestimate her.
"Ok... so what do you want?"
Aaron spoke cautiously. "Our group is looking for people. People who want a safe place to live and work, and build a community of survivors. We have food, we have protection. We've brought you a peace offering."
The woman looked even more wary and held her gun firm as Aaron reached slowly into his back pack. He pulled out a book that looked as if it were new. She glanced at it and then gazed at them almost to an unnerving degree, analyzing.
Aaron held up his hands looking the absolute picture of friendly innocence that he was. "We just want to talk. We can do that out here, or we can sit down outside. I'd really appreciate it if you could hear what we have to say. Then if you want we'll go. We mean you no harm, I promise."
The woman took a deep breath, her curvy frame was still firmly planted in a defensive shooting stance. Aaron's easy manner seemed to have passed her acid test; she lowered her gun and nodded. "Alright. Bring your weapons inside but leave them on the table at the front door. We can talk, for now."
Then she ushered them ahead gently to the large cabin at the edge of the perimeter.
