Damn, Daryl's a stalker! Well, it's an apocalyptic scenario, I guess it's allowed eh? He could stalk me any day. Enjoy and REVIEW! :D
CHAPTER 2
The woman walked with long, sure strides, but from her general bearing, Daryl thought that she hadn't been in this area before. His hypothesis was confirmed when she stopped, glanced about (Daryl got out of sight just in time) and got out a ragged-looking map from her bag, and a small compass. She spent a couple of minutes poring over it with a frown, turning the map around a few times. Daryl watched her with interest. From the level of frustration growing on her face, she didn't seem very good at reading maps.
Suddenly the silence of the forest was broken by the unmistakable crack of a gunshot. The woman's head jerked up, instantly alert. Daryl shifted, eyes narrowed. Another loud shot rang out, and this time it was easier to pinpoint the direction. The trees muffled the sounds, so the shooter must be nearby. The woman put away the map and compass with quick movements, shouldered the pack and headed, without hesitation, towards the sound of the gunshots. Her movements were ultra-tense, and she moved rapidly from tree to tree, all her attention focussed on the source of the noise. Unable to help himself, Daryl followed, closing distance as much as he dared while her attention was to the front. He felt like he was hunting a hunter.
Daryl stopped as he saw her drop to her knees not ten metres ahead of him. He leaned against a broad trunk of a tree and looked cautiously around it. It seemed as though the ground was sloping downwards from where he was standing, concealed, giving him a near-perfect view of the woman, who crouched behind a fallen tree in front and below him, and also of the people in the clearing, beyond her.
Four men in army fatigues stood in the clearing, next to a tent and a jeep. From the looks of their campfire and general camp debris, it would seem that they'd been there for a few days at least. A rough wood-cutters' road curved away into the trees on the far side of the camp, which, if Daryl's internal compass was right, would eventually lead back to the highway. Two walkers lay on the ground- evidently the reason behind the shots. Daryl shook his head at their stupidity- they'd wasted bullets and risked making noise and drawing more to their camp- over only two walkers? Well, by the looks of things, they were well-stocked on weapons. Daryl could see a stack of rifles leaning against the tent, and boxes of ammo strewn about. And all of the men were carrying handguns. There was an open box near the smouldering campfire, in which Daryl could see many tins and boxes of food. He suddenly became aware of his own empty stomach. On the open back of the jeep was more boxes, unopened.
Were these men from a military base? If they were, they were most likely defectors. That was the only likely explanation for four men who were clearly idiots who had so many weapons and supplies. They hadn't even set up a perimeter, and this was the worst possible campsite. As the woman and Daryl had demonstrated, it was extremely easy to sneak up on them.
The men seemed pretty relaxed, overconfident even, swaggering about the bodies of the walkers and laughing. If it wasn't for their arsenal of weapons, he'd march right in there and steal their jeep before they knew what was happening. He imagined the look on Rick and the others' faces when he drove up with all those supplies... but it was stupid to imagine the impossible...
Suddenly, the woman caught Daryl's eye. She, like him, had been surveying the scene below them, motionless, but now she was moving. He stared. What was she...?
Still crouching down in her hiding place, the woman was checking the number of shells in her gun clip. She seemed dissatisfied, pursing her lips.
Daryl was confused. Surely she wasn't thinking of taking them on?!
Coming to some sort of decision, she removed her backpack and arm-guards with deft movements. She then removed the blade and shield from the backpack, and emptied half of the contents of the bag onto the ground, stacking everything neatly against the fallen tree. It was mainly a few tins and some items of clothing, and a bowl and water-bottle. She patted the slack backpack, satisfying herself that it looked almost empty. Most bizarrely of all, she then pulled her hair loose, so that it fell in waves to just past her shoulders. Lastly, and most reluctantly, she unhooked her gun, holster and all, from her belt, and laid it on the pile of the other things, with fingers that were a little shaky. She pulled the bottoms of her pants out of the tops of her lace-up boots, so that the tattered ends would drag on the ground under her heels as she walked. Then she pulled her belt slightly looser, so that her midriff was exposed. She was making herself look generally scruffier.
She took a few deep breaths, calming her nerves. Then, to Daryl's extreme shock, she stumbled out into the clearing, in full view of the men in the camp below.