Warning: Language, language, language. I don't mean to be offensive to anyone, just writing characters how they'd be
Chapter Two: Danger
"Why would anyone do this?" Maggie looked to her father, "All we are trying to do is find safety."
"And maybe that's the problem," Hershel suggested, "Whoever did this clearly did so in order to stop drivers on the road. They must be protecting something – supplies, shelter – and want to keep whatever it is as far away from greedy hands as possible."
"Why didn't we think of this?" Glenn mused.
"'Cuz," Daryl snarled, "we don't do this."
"We just lost two of our vehicles," Rick ran a hand through his hair, "and we have got to go. I don't think any of us really want to stick around to meet whoever did this to our tires."
"How will we get anywhere?" Carol asked as Daryl started kicking the motorcycle again.
"We can clown-car it," T-Dogg proposed.
Rick tried to think of another option. They really didn't have time to sit around and debate what they were going to do. They needed to get as far away from the spike strips as possible. But how…
"Walking," Maggie suggested, "We can walk a bit and maybe stumble on some cars we can take. There's a prison not far from here which means we are close to the outskirts of the next town over, Shannon. If we can walk to Shannon, we should be able to find a car or two and get supplies."
"Walking would be pretty dangerous, right?" She turned to her husband who seemed surprised by her consulting him, "I mean, whoever did this to our tires can't be far off and we don't want to get tangled up with them. At least, inside our vehicles, we'd be a bit protected and Daryl drives fast enough anyways where he'd probably be fine…without the truck and the motor cycle…we're kind of…screwed."
"Don't think like that," Rick played the situation over again in his head, "How far is Shannon from the prison?"
"About ten miles."
"And the prison from here?"
"About five miles."
"Okay, then I think we should start walking. The women and Carl should take the station wagon. Daryl, Glenn, Hershel, and I will walk. We will have our weapons with us and will do the best we can. With us on foot, we should be somewhat of a protection detail for the station wagon. I say we head out."
Daryl nodded, "Sounds good to me. Anyone else?"
Everyone nodded and began moving items from the truck into the station wagon. Daryl didn't leave his motorcycle. He just stood there next to it, running his hand along the leather seat.
"When did you get it?" Carol asked.
"When I was eighteen," Daryl felt a little bad for kicking the crap out of it earlier, "Merle found it at some scrap shop and brought it home. He let it just kinda sit out in the yard for a while and I asked him if I could start fixin' it up and he didn't really give a damn so I did. It kept me busy, gave me somethin' to do. I used to love just goin' for rides on this ol' hunk of junk. Real cheesy stuff too, like ridin' off into the sunset and all that."
"I'm sorry about the tires. Can we fit it somewhere? Maybe we can tie it to the roof of the station wagon?"
"It ain't worth the trouble," Daryl tried not to let his emotions get the better of him, "I've been holdin' on to this thing for too long anyway. The whole world's gone to shit, Carol. With my bike, I felt like it wasn't quite so bad. I still had somethin' to hold on to, ya know? Without it…"
"Daryl!" Rick shouted to him, "T-Dogg, go help him with his bike over here. I got some rope from the truck. We can tie her down to the roof of the car if we lay her on her side."
"Rick…I dunno if it's worth…"
"Grab the damn rope Daryl, we don't got all day!"
Daryl frowned at the phrase he always used, but did as he was told anyway. Besides, it was nice of Rick to be trying to save his bike for him.
"Maybe we'll come across a dealership or scrap shop and we can replace the tires," Lori suggested as T-Dogg and Daryl worked on bringing the bike towards the station wagon.
Rick helped them hoist it up on to the roof of the car and the three of them began tying it down.
"That'd be nice," Daryl said, tightening a knot, "Thanks for this, Rick. I was just gonna leave 'er behind."
After making sure Daryl's bike was as secure as it could be, they headed out.
"What kind of person do you think would put up spikes like that?" Glenn asked as they began walking.
"A desperate person," Hershel answered.
They walked in silence for a while until the sounds of gunshots made them stop in their tracks.
"What the hell is that?" Lori shouted from inside the car.
"Everyone, down!" Rick shouted as he, Daryl, Glenn, and Hershel slid to hide behind the side of the car, "Stay down!"
Daryl raised his crossbow, "Can you see them?" He asked, panting, "Does anyone see them?"
"I don't see anything," Glenn was gasping for breath, trying to calm his heart rate.
More shots were fired.
"What do we do?" Lori rolled the window down on the men's side of the car, "What should we do?"
"How much room is in the car?" Rick asked her, "Can we fit?"
"I don't think so…"
More shots crackled through the air.
"We need to get out of here. Everybody in."
The men attempted to squeeze into the car as best as they could. There was hardly any room to breathe, but they were at least somewhat protected.
"Keep down," Rick ordered, "and try to keep your heads protected. Lori, get in the back with Carl. Put him on your lap and that'll make some more room. Throw out some of the supplies. We can get more later. I will drive."
The car doors on the passenger side were opened and the supplies were thrown out in a desperate need for more room. Rick and Lori switched seats and Lori sat in the back with Carl on her lap. She gripped her son tightly in her arms and the car began to speed away.
"Who the hell is doing this to us?" Maggi asked, "Why would they do this to us?"
"Someone very desperate," Hershel held her hand tightly, "Someone very scared."
Rick tried to keep his head down as he drove. He needed to get them out of there and as far away as possible. He needed to protect them.
"You're bleeding!" Carol cried, "Oh my God!"
"How bad is it?" Rick shouted from the driver's seat, "How bad is it?"
"It's just nicked is all," Daryl grunted, staring at the wound on his forearm, "No big deal."
"Here's a towel," Andrea handed it to Carol, "wrap it around the wound as tight as you…"
"It's fine," Daryl tried to shrug away, "Hell, I've lived through worse."
"Hush," Carol hissed at him, "and let me do this."
Once his wound was bandaged, the atmosphere seemed to calm. The gunfire had subsided, and everyone was just trying to catch their breath. Lori buried her face against Carl's back, trying not to let anyone see her cry. She almost lost Rick. Rick could have been shot. Her husband could have been killed. She couldn't…she just couldn't lose both Shane and Rick.
Daryl didn't notice until Carol gave a small squeeze that the two of them had been holding hands. Dumb woman had made such a fuss over his stupid cut. It was just a graze. The bullet didn't do any damage, and she had still managed to freak out over it. He looked down at her frail hand enclosed in his, and thought maybe, just maybe, someone freakin' out over you wasn't too bad a deal.
Maggie looked to Glenn with fear in her eyes. She had lost so many members of her family, and she couldn't bear to lose one more. She just wished all of this would be over and she could go on again with a normal life. She thought back to when she was a little girl and would fight with her dad about having to go clean out the chicken coop…what she would give to be cleaning out a chicken coop again.
"What the hell?" Rick slammed on the breaks.
A large group of men were standing in the middle of the road, facing the station wagon. They were all armed with machine guns.
"What now?" Daryl groaned and reached for his crossbow.
"Don't," Hershel stopped him, "Let's just try talkin' to them first…"
"They don't look exactly like they wanna sit down and chat over tea," Daryl rolled his eyes.
Rick waited until one of the men approached him before rolling down his window.
"Hey," he tried to sound calm, in control, "Our caravan got his by spike strips not far back and we're just tryin' to make it into town for supplies."
"Shannon?" The man asked, "You want to go into Shannon for supplies?"
"Yes," Rick nodded, "and then we will be right back on our way. My friend's motorcycle got hit by the spikes and we're just hopin' to pick up some tires, maybe another car or two, and some food. We don't need much, just a few things so if y'all would be so obliged to…"
"Get this," the man shouted to the others, "they think they're gonna go into Shannon for supplies."
The group of men all laughed. This whole thing made Rick very uneasy. Who were these men and what did they want?
"Nobody goes into Shannon for supplies, friend," the man smirked, "Nobody goes into Shannon for anything."
"Well then we'll just be drivin' right on through," Rick tried, but the man made a production of shifting his machine gun to his other arm.
"I think y'all need to step out of the car," he said, "And come with us."
"Why would we need to do that?" Daryl asked.
"Because I have a feelin' y'all would like to keep your heads on, am I right?"
Rick calmly opened his door and stood in front of the man. He noticed the stains on his white t-shirt – blood. He also noticed the heavy, black combat boots. Who were these men?
"Come on," Rick said to the group, without taking his eyes off the man standing before him, "Let's do as he says."
Daryl rolled his eyes and slid out of the vehicle, along with the rest of the group. Tensions were high and panic was close. No one knew what to do. They had their riffles and the crossbow, but these men were not going to move without a fight.
Lori grabbed onto Carl's shoulders as they stood next to Rick. She was absolutely stoic. They had gone through hell in the past two days; what else was going to be thrown at them?
"Now this is how this is gonna go down," the man drawled on, "my boys and I are gonna take you into Shannon. We are gonna take you to Shannon alright – don't you worry about that. But you see, Shannon is our territory. No one goes in, or out, without us knowing about it."
"Alright," Rick nodded, "I get it. Believe me, I get it. You've got your supplies and your families in Shannon that you need to protect. I really do understand. We won't trouble you at all…"
"Of course you won't," the man carried on, "We are also going to be a bit hospitable to you and take you to the Governor."
"The Governor?"
"You mean Mr. Adams?" Maggie asked, earning herself a snear from the man.
"Mr. Adams is dead, girlie. There's a new leader in town now, and he makes all the decisions. You will meet with him and he shall decide."
"Decide what?" T-Dogg asked.
"Look what we got here boys," the man grinned towards his gang, "We got a nigger and a chi…"
"Watch it," Daryl snarled, earning himself surprised glances from both T-Dogg and Glenn, as well as the others.
"Or what?" The man grinned a twisted grin towards Daryl, "I call 'em like I see 'em."
Daryl was about to go for him, when Rick put up a hand, "Daryl, let's not offend our um…"
"Hosts," the man said, "y'all are in our territory now. And you best get used to it."