Hi you guys. :)
Sorry about the little PMS moment I had before submitting the previous chapter... I was having one of those freak out moments were I hate myself... but I'm all better now, mostly thanks to your reviews ensuring me that I am not as bad of a writer as I felt like I was. So thank you to everyone who didn't get put off by my low self-esteem and whatnot.
Anyway, from this point, there are a few ways I can go about completing this story. Maybe you guys can give me some input on what you think I should do. #1 - I could try to wrap it up within one or two more chapters - get them back to the camp and that will be the end. or #2 - I could have more eventful things happen in the city. The problem with the second option is that I have a habit of sometimes taking a story too far so that it doesn't ever end. If I stick with option 1, the story will probably be a better quality, even though it will be shorter. Option 2 may be more dramatic, but might result in the story rambling on and on until writers block claims it and it just abruptly stops being updated... Let me know what you think.. (also - even if everyone says I should do one option over the other, I still might not write it that way... my own opinion still counts in all this. I just haven't made up my mind yet over which way I should write it. You guys might help me decide.)
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He didn't know how it happened, but somehow Daryl had fallen asleep. He hadn't thought it was possible, considering he was in the small cramped closet and the moaning of walkers was ever present right outside, not to mention the fact that he didn't like falling asleep with other people in the room. For some reason it made him feel vulnerable, and he just tried to avoid it. Nevertheless, sleep had somehow claimed him at some point during the tedious night, as he was now awakening. He still felt exhausted. The room was still dark, so he couldn't have been asleep long; it may have only been a few minutes even.
Furrowing his brow, he concentrated on the sounds coming from the other side of the door. The walkers didn't really seem to have thinned out much. In fact, it sounded like there were even more of them now than there had been when they had first barricaded themselves in the closet. How was that possible? They were being perfectly quiet... He hadn't been snoring had he? And even if he had... was it possible that snores could have been loud enough to attract so many of the corpses? Maybe their sense of smell had somehow evolved over night...
Daryl almost jumped out of his skin when he felt something thud against his back, which was right up against the closet door. He felt his heart racing, pounding almost as hard as what was certainly undead flesh pounding on the other side of the thin barrier separating him and Glenn from the ravenous walkers. Turning around, Daryl pushed his body against the door, holding it closed as he felt more thudding vibrations. He could picture in his mind, thousands of walkers pooling into the store, all of them heading right to the back, right to the closet. Somehow they all knew what tasty treats waited for them in that tiny room.
It didn't take long at all before the number of hands pounding on the door increased dramatically. It was like every single one of them knew exactly what was inside the closet. Daryl could have sworn he even saw the door knob turning. They couldn't have learned how to operate a door-knob, right? They were basically brain-dead monsters who only knew how to stumble around, kill, and eat...
The walkers were pushing on the closet's door now, and they were pushing hard... The wood of the door creaked as it threatened to splinter into countless tiny pieces. In fact, he could feel the door bending inward and could hear the rotten bodies colliding with the thin wooden barrier.
"Glenn!" he heard himself call out, looking over to where the boy had been sleeping. But he wasn't there. Daryl was all alone. Had the kid abandoned him? Was that why the walkers were all of a sudden swarming the area so thickly?
"Fuck." Daryl heard himself mumble. Or maybe he just thought it. Either way, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was dreadful. There was a good chance he was never going to get out of here alive. He could try again to wait them out, but there were so many more than there had been before... Would they all ever leave? His time was limited... He couldn't exactly just wait here forever, especially with the walkers so close to crashing through the damn door. Even if the man never had to eat, he couldn't just hold the walkers off forever.
Even though it hadn't seemed possible, an even more dreadful feeling settled within him as he considered a sickening possibility. Maybe Glenn had decided to try to go off on his own, but there were more walkers out there than he had anticipated. Maybe they had seen him and swarmed him. The kid could very well be dead... The walkers saw him in the store, swarmed in and attacked him... and then others on the outside heard the commotion and smelled the blood, which drew them in too. At the moment, that was the only explanation Daryl could think of to make any sense of how so many walkers had shown up here so quickly.
As he held the pounding door closed, he shook his head in disappointment. Why had Glenn just left? Daryl wasn't exactly nice to him... but he wasn't that bad, was he? Did Glenn really think he'd be better off alone? He was good on his own... but not always! Sometimes a companion was almost mandatory if survival was a goal. The stupid kid got careless, and now he was likely dead. He felt let down, a feeling not at all foreign to him. He was not Glenn's friend; he did not trust the kid or anything, but he somehow thought he could expect more out of him. He didn't understand why the kid would just leave like that... Especially after Glenn had acted like they were all of a sudden best buds earlier, like he thought he understood Daryl or something. So it wasn't a betrayal of trust that Daryl felt... Just slight disappointment.
But he also felt something else. It almost could be described as sadness... and it did not stem from his disappointment in the kid abandoning him either. It almost felt like grief... He felt bad thinking about Glenn being dead. He had taken great care to avoid getting attached to anyone for this exact purpose, but somehow it didn't seem to be working out as planned. Daryl closed his eyes and sighed. He wanted to punch something, to scream and throw things... but more noise was the last thing he needed. This world fucking sucked.
Daryl was angry at Glenn, and at himself for falling asleep. He hadn't counted on having to babysit the fucking kid. He figured he at least had enough sense not to go off on his own into a zombie-infested grocery shop.
He frowned. How had the boy even gotten out of the closet when Daryl had been leaning against the door this whole time? He turned around again, to see if Glenn had somehow just been hidden in the shadows. Maybe he was still in the closet after all...
"Kid?" he said, his voice soft, but still loud enough to be heard over the moaning and thudding on the other side of the door, "you in here?" He narrowed hie eyes, squinting into the darkness.
No answer.
Daryl's attention was drawn up to the faint light streaming in through the small window. He couldn't have possibly fit through that, right? Glenn was smaller than Daryl, but he wasn't as small as a god-damned eight year old child. No way could he have fit through that window... Even so, Daryl felt he had to check. If Glenn had fit through, he might still be in the alleyway... Or maybe by some miracle Daryl would fit himself through it as well.
Reluctantly, he abandoned his post, leaving the shaking door unattended. It was still closed, even though the zombies were trying their best to change that fact. Daryl took a few steps so that he was standing just under the window. Then he climbed up the shelves and peered out. What he saw was shocking and confusing.
Glenn was out there, but he was just lying there on the ground. He didn't look bloody like he had been attacked, but he didn't look like he was alive either. He just lay there, completely still, like a corpse. Like the old kinds of corpses - the ones who didn't get back up and try to eat your brains. Just a regular dead person, lying motionless as dead people used to do before this shit storm of undead monsters hit the planet. Was the kid dead? Maybe he had jumped out the window and landed wrong... Maybe he was just unconscious...
"Glenn!" Daryl half-yelled and half-whispered, hoping so much that the kid's consciousness would return, "Get up, you fucker!" he added frantically. The kid still didn't move, "Wake up god damn it!"
The boy didn't stir.
Daryl moved to try to climb through the window, but it was impossibly small. He still didn't see how Glenn had even made it out.
Behind him there was a sickening cracking sound. Daryl spun around and observed in horror as the door fell inward in several pieces. He could see and smell a crowd of walkers spilling in, their dead eyes all fixed on him. His crossbow lay on the floor, being trampled by the undead. There were more walkers than he could count. There would be no way he could defeat them all, and if that fate wasn't cruel enough, now he didn't even have a weapon; he couldn't even attempt to get out of this...
He kicked at them and punched them as they closed in around him, but there were too many of them. They surrounded him quickly, their hands grabbing at his arms.
"Get off me!" he growled, punching one hard in the face. He could have sworn he heard it wince as it fell to the ground. He kicked at another one which stumbled backward, "fuckers..." he murmured.
"Daryl," he heard someone say. It sounded like Glenn. Daryl's eyebrows rose and his ears perked up. Had the kid woken up? Was he alive after all, "Daryl, shhhh!" he heard Glenn's voice urge.
"Where the fuck are you?" Daryl yelled, "Get me the fuck out of here."
"Daryl!" he heard again as more zombies crowded around him. He could feel their hands on him. There were so many, and he could only push them away one at a time. He was shocked that he hadn't felt the sharp teeth punctures of one of them biting him yet.
"I'm here, you damn, idiot!" he screamed, "stop saying my fucking name and get in here! I'm not a damn contortionist. I can't get out of here though a fucking vent like you did!"
"Daryl, wake up!" he heard Glenn again as the walkers closed in on him.
Daryl's eyes snapped open.
He blinked in confusion as he assessed his surroundings. The room was lighter now, there were no walkers inside, and the door was intact. He had only been dreaming. It may have been one of the most frightening dreams he had ever had, not because it was the scariest scenario in any of his dreams, but because it was the one that was most likely to actually be able to come true.
Glenn's face was way too close to his own, his wide eyes staring down at him. The Asian's facial features looked concerned, like he was worried, and maybe even a little scared. The kid really didn't have any knowledge of personal space.
"What the fuck you doin'?" Daryl pushed him away, "you ready ta see if we can get outta here or what?"
"I think you were dreaming," Glenn mentioned, still looking apprehensive, but keeping his distance better now.
"No shit," Daryl grumbled, standing and stretching his legs, "I didn't think I'd ever get to sleep in this fuckin' place."
"You were mumbling stuff and kicking," Glenn added, "you even punched me."
Daryl narrowed his eyes and stared at the kid who was staring back at him with wide eyes. He wondered if he had punched him in the face like he had to the walker in his dream. His face didn't look damaged; there was no blood and no bruise. He must have hit him in the arm or chest or something. Either way, it didn't seem like he hit him too hard, so Daryl wasn't concerned, "what do you want, a fuckin' apology?" Daryl hissed, "I move in my sleep. You do too. Who gives a rat's ass?"
Glenn raised his hands defensively, "No... I wasn't mad or looking for an apology or anything... I was just worried... You seemed really scared."
"Dreams aren't real, kid," Daryl stared at him, "don't be worried for someone because they imagined something scary. I'm sure your dreams are pretty fucked up too, what with the world how it is..."
The boy nodded, "I guess you're right," he agreed. He still looked like he wanted to sit down and have a therapy session, but luckily for both of them, he didn't press the matter any further.
Daryl turned toward the door, listening for a moment before he cracked it open ever so slightly. He didn't hear much of anything, fortunately. The very possible scenario from his dream would hopefully stay out of reality.
He peeked out into the shop. He didn't see any walkers right away, but as usual they would have to tread carefully. There could be walkers beyond any corner, behind shelves, under tables... They could be anywhere. Just because they didn't see or hear them didn't mean they weren't there...
Daryl could feel that Glenn had come up right behind him. The kid wasn't touching him at all, but the mere proximity of his body to Daryl's allowed Daryl to actually feel a faint sensation of heat. And he could swear he felt the kid's breath on his back. He probably just wanted to look and see what they were going to be up against, but Daryl was again rather annoyed of Glenn's lack of honoring personal space and that he didn't seem like he was as scared of Daryl as he should be.
Instead of making a loud scene over it, Daryl just turned around, pushed him away, and scoffed lightly, "you ready ta go?" he asked.
Glenn gulped nervously, but nodded, "I'm ready when you are. Just remember to be careful. Don't let your guard down."
Daryl rolled his eyes. He didn't need survival tips from Glenn. Or from anyone for that matter. He was the one with the weapon. The only weapon Glenn knew how to use was a baseball bat or tree branch.
"Come on then," Daryl swung his crossbow over his back and opened the door the rest of the way. Cautiously, he stepped out of the closet, looking to the left, and then to the right. No walkers were immediately visible.
"I think we could just get what we can from this store and then get out of the city," Glenn suggested, "Everything really important should be here, and I really don't want to be in the city any longer than we have to. We're both tired, and I don't think we should be running all over the city when we don't have our wits about us."
Daryl smirked. The kid seemed really nervous while he explained his reasoning, like maybe Daryl wouldn't understand his logic and would decline the suggestion, "sounds like a plan," Daryl easily agreed. He didn't really give two shits what they did. He had his alcohol. He didn't really need much else. He knew how to hunt, how to live off the land. In his eyes, all the stuff Glenn was collecting was what people wanted, not what they needed.
Their search for items in the store this time around went a lot differently than it had before they had been ambushed by the undead. Before, Daryl had been off looking at things he was interested in, and Glenn had been off somewhere else collecting things for the other people. It had been disorganized and time consuming. This time, Glenn walked briskly but quietly, collecting things quickly, and with visibly shaking hands. Daryl followed him, watching both Glenn and their surroundings.
The boy was completely nervous. He looked like he was two seconds away from jumping out of his own skin. His eyes were wide as he looked around himself between picking things up off of shelves and the floor. His fingers shook as he reached for items. Daryl knew the fact that he was standing over him and staring him down was probably only making him more nervous, but he didn't want to fuck up again. Sticking together was the smartest way of doing this at the moment. Especially since Glenn hadn't brought any sort of weapon. If any walkers came anywhere near them, Daryl would be ready to shoot their brains out with his crossbow. That would keep both of them safe instead of only Daryl.
Daryl could feel his anger toward Glenn slowly lifting off him. He knew why he was angry, but he also knew his anger was unwarranted. He still felt let down by what Glenn did in his dream. He was angry that the boy just left him there when they both would have been better off sticking together. He recognized that the real Glenn hadn't done the things dream-Glenn had, but he still felt a little upset. His dream had stirred up fear in him, fear that Glenn really might abandon him, just like everyone else in his life had. Obviously Glenn wasn't the protector of their little duo. He wouldn't be Daryl's knight in shining armor... But that didn't change the fact that he was an extra pair of eyes, ears, and hands. He was a smart kid, and he indeed was a useful part of their team. Daryl could make it on his own, but he didn't want to. Neither of them needed each other most of the time, but there were bound to be times when making it on your own would be difficult if not impossible.
Realizing that he had been scowling at Glenn this whole time, Daryl closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled. The boy could probably sense Daryl's anger. That might explain why his hands were shaking each time he picked something up. Well, that and the walking corpses being behind every corner. Glenn really didn't deserve Daryl to be pissed at him for no reason. The kid wasn't responsible for the things he did only in Daryl's dream. And Daryl couldn't really be angry at him for things he might do.
Glenn's backpack was just about full. It looked rather heavy. It kind of reminded Daryl of those smart kids from high school. They'd bring all their books home every night to memorize them or some shit, and their back packs always looked like they probably weighed fifty or sixty pounds. Glenn's looked a lot like theirs had. But instead of bulging with rectangular books, it was bulging with cylinders - canned food, and other random objects.
"I think I got everything," Glenn breathed out, grabbing a metal piece of a shelf that was laying on the floor.
Daryl raised his eyebrow, wondering what the boy's plan for the shelf was. It was just one rectangular portion, the size of a plank you might buy at a hardware store. His eyes must have asked Glenn something without him knowing it, because he soon found Glenn explaining himself again.
"In case any walkers try to get us," he said, "I don't have any other weapon with me... I guess that was a dumb thing to overlook, this time at least. If we run into any on the road I'll be able to hit them with this."
"It's not a very good weapon," Daryl informed him, "I mean, it's kind of hard and all, but you'd really have to beat their brains in for it to work. It's too thin and broad. You need something smaller like a hammer or baseball bat."
"Well, I don't see any of those laying around," Glenn frowned, "I had a baseball bat... I just didn't bring it. I planned on getting in and out without even needing it. I don't usually have to worry about this stuff."
"You need to start worrying about it," Daryl chastised him, "Maybe you don't usually run into walkers... and that's fuckin' great, but you're a damn idiot if you don't even have a plan for in case you do run into some... I get that it's not your style to confront walkers; you go where there aren't any... and if some come, you leave as quick as you can. If you see one in the chip aisle and you want chips, you just go without chips. I'd fuckin' shoot it in face. It's a difference in our styles, and that's fine. But sometimes you don't get to go about this business the way you want to, and you need to be ready for that possibility."
Glenn just stared at him, eyes wide and listening intently. Maybe he really was taking what Daryl said to heart. Daryl knew his advice was useful; he just wasn't sure if Glenn would see it that way. It seemed he was though.
"A baseball bat really slows me down when I'm trying to fill this backpack though," Glenn told him, "I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass," he added, "I know I should bring a weapon... I just don't know what... It's bulky and it just gets in the way..."
"You need somethin' small you can store on yer belt or somethin' then," Daryl suggested, "A fuckin' shelf is gonna be pretty damn bulky too."
Glenn sighed, placing the piece of shelf back on the floor. He shrugged, "it was meant to be temporary."
"Then bring it along," Daryl shrugged, "Don't rely on it too much though. Like I said, it's flimsy. The minute it connects with a walker skull, it's prolly gonna bend back and be all but useless. Might slow 'em down at least though."
Glenn picked the piece of shelf back up, looking thoughtfully at it as he turned it over in his hands, "I think it's stronger than it looks," he mumbled defiantly.
Daryl smirked. It was strange how Glenn was defending the shelf like it was his friend or something, like the shelf might feel offended or insulted by Daryl's lack of faith in it, "well, hopefully we won't have to find out," he noted, "come on. Let's get the fuck out of here."
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Review, por favor.