Inspiration and feel are running high tonight. I'm glad to see that those of you reading are thoroughly enjoying the story. Someone did message me to ask why they haven't 'done the deed' yet. The reason being is that I want to keep them as close to their characters as I possibly can, which means a slow build up. Once again, thank you for your kind reviews! - CSM

Chapter Four
Savannah

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" Daryl questioned, his body ached after the long walk they had just endured. As they entered Savannah, they passed rows of beautifully flourished houses. Now long forgotten and unkempt. Daryl kept the pace, an empty duffel bag over his shoulder. As he held the strap across his chest, he began to miss his home comfort. His crossbow.

"Positive." Gareth replied simply, increasing his pace slightly so that he could pass Daryl. He kept his head up, staying aware of his surroundings. He held his handgun protectively as they passed yet more houses, and still no sign of any walkers.

"I feels like we've been walking for hours." Daryl sighed. Watching his captor as he continued to walk down the long paved road. One or two cars remained, all of which were now covered with thick dust. Yet more houses, yet more abandoned homes. It seemed like they were walking down some sort of warped time tunnel.

Finally, reaching the end of the long stretch of road, they turned a corner. Gareth smiled to himself as he took in the building he had been looking for. Outside, a tall set of stairs led up to large entry doors. There was a long stretched parking lot outside, once filled with people going about their daily routine, and now littered with abandoned lives and disused army vehicles. Daryl followed the cannibal, unsure of what to expect. He knew they were on a supply run, but for the most far he hadn't asked any more questions. Not since the night before, at least.

Better than he could.

Once again the words echoed in Daryl's mind, Gareth's voice penetrating his thoughts. He tried to ignore it, to carry on about their run and not think too much about it. However, every time he looked at Gareth, he couldn't help but second guess the cannibal's words from the night before. What exactly had he meant by that?

As they approached the tall grey building, it seemed to tower over the city even more so than it previously had. Vines that were once well kept now snaked up the side of the building. Bodies lay outside, some half eaten by the walking dead. Some who had been unfortunate enough to turn, only to be killed not long after. These remained, and as they passed, Daryl and Gareth did not give a second thought to the people who had not been as lucky as themselves.

"I don't like this." Daryl shook his head, trying to keep his voice as low as possible, as to not attract any unwanted walkers. "It doesn't seem right, y'know? They're all dead, there's none left. There's always some left."

"Chances are the military managed to wipe out whatever was left before the outbreak became too bad." Gareth stopped just at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around to face the road on which they had just traveled. He smirked to himself as he watched the fog lift slowly. "There you go, there's a few over there. Why don't you run along and play with them?"

"Yeah, right." Daryl laughed, keeping his voice in a hushed tone. "Trust me, you're not going in that building all on your own. You're not stupid enough to do that. You don't know what's behind them walls. For all you know the entire city population could be in there."

"I'm more than happy to take my chances." Gareth smirked, almost sarcastically. He checked his gun over, making sure it was fully loaded before he took off the safety. "Besides, I've made it this far right?"

Without a second thought, he turned and made his way up the tall staircase, avoiding whatever corpses he could as he took the staircase two steps at a time. Daryl shook his head in annoyance and turned to take a look at the few walkers that remained in this desolate city. Pathetic, it was. Watching these 'people' wander aimlessly. He adjusted the duffel bag strap and then followed Gareth's lead, making his way towards the grey building.

As they entered, the first thing they noticed was the inky blackness. The lack of electricity was going to be a problem here. Daryl quickly gauged the room, he noticed a reception desk with folders and pieces of paper scattered across it. It was almost as if the place had been ransacked. A woman in light blue overalls lay in front of the desk, he body twisted and warped into a disgusting angle, chunks of her body torn away. Chairs also lined the darkened room. As well as vending machines, now empty, of course.

"Where do we start?" Daryl questioned. "I don't know shit about hospitals. I only went to one once, when I broke my arm."

Gareth seemed to ignore Daryl's comment, instead he stepped forward quickly, holding his pistol out for protection. Ready to shoot anything that may have been lurking. He checked both corridors that spined off from the main lobby, and then gave Daryl the all clear by lowering his gun.

"I used to work here." Gareth answered, almost automatically. He quickly made his way to the reception desk. Daryl watched tentatively as his captor opened the top draw and searched it quickly. With no luck, he search the second, third and fourth. Before finally giving up.

"What were you, a doctor or something?" Daryl questioned, intrigued by this new piece of information. He had never expected Gareth to be the type who would hold such a 'normal' job. Then again, he had never seen Gareth as anything more than a killer.

"No, I wasn't a doctor." He shook his head. He continued his hunt, moving onto a tall unit of filing cabinets. He periodically checked each one. "I worked for a company who secured this building. I was a patrol guard."

"I didn't know hospitals needed security." Daryl continued, watching still as Gareth continued his exhausting hunt for something. The redneck contemplated what he might be looking for. Information perhaps? But why?

"They didn't, until the outbreak." Gareth explained. "I worked for a security firm here in Savannah. When the outbreak started, they turned this hospital into a quarantine area. Then the soldiers they sent it, started getting sick. They needed someone else, so they came to me."

"Surprisingly honest." Daryl commented. He too began looking, for something and nothing. He picked up some of the folders which lay scattered, and opened one at random. Curiosity mostly. He read a few lines about a patient who had been admitted for quarantine, before he lent again the desk and allowed Gareth to continue with his search. After a moment of silence, Gareth finally slammed the last draw shut and stood up, facing his captor.

"What does it matter now?" Gareth questioned, a serious look upon his face. He captured Daryl's attention. Daryl placed the folder back down on the desk and watched as Gareth toyed with a small set of keys.

"I mean, really. What does it matter?" Gareth pushed further, yet another rhetorical question that Daryl refrained from answering. "So I was a patrol officer before all of this shit happened. What does it matter if I tell you that? It's history, it doesn't change anything today. It's not like a trade secret. If you know what I did before all this, it really doesn't change anything."

When Gareth noticed the scolded look on Daryl's face, he felt a slight twinge of guilt. He was definitely hard on Daryl, for good reason. He was hard on a lot of people, but suddenly seeing that he had put Daryl in an insecure place, caused a small bit of guilt to rise to the surface. Small, but not unnoticeable. Gareth took a deep breath before he tucked the keys in his back pocket. He made his way back around to the front of the reception desk. As he held his handgun out again, he turned to Daryl who was following behind him closely.

"What did you do?" Gareth questioned, catching Daryl slightly off guard. "Before all of this?"

"...I fixed cars."

"Well, each to their own." Gareth shrugged, obviously less that impressed with Daryl's career choices. He turned to face the long hallway, holding his gun firmly as he led the way down the darkened corridor. Some doors lay slightly ajar, and instead of checking them, Gareth continued walking. Daryl remembered back to when he was with Rick. Rick would have insisted that they check every room. Gareth seemed more reckless though. He wanted to get in and out, before anything had time to even think about attacking them. Although Daryl wanted to question their plan, he stayed quiet. Taking his own advice, he contemplated the fact that they may indeed be walkers lurking in the shadows. He followed behind Gareth slowly, holding his blade with a firm grip and keeping himself on guard at all times.

They managed to reach the end of the corridor without issue. Once there, they found a large hall, one that was obviously used as a sorting area for the infected. Beds lined the walls, with splatters of blood staining the once hospital white sheets. Corpses lay, inanimate on the floor. Daryl kept a keen eye on those, since he knew they were liking to move should they hear the unfamiliar sound of movement. Both moving slowly, and sticking together, Gareth and Daryl traced the wall. They came to a door, and Gareth slowly opened it.

As they stepped inside, they noticed yet more corpses, however this time, one was very animated. A walker lay on the set of stairs leading down to a lower floor. Her arms outstretched at the sound and smell of a living breathing human. Disturbing growls came from her mouth as her teeth clicked instinctively. Gareth held his gun up as she began to approach them.

"I got it." Daryl stepped forward, quickly taking her out with a swift stab to the cranium. Her now limp body fell to the floor and Daryl stepped back. He nodded to Gareth who continued up the set of stairs, Daryl following closely behind.

They managed to make it to their destination unscathed, only coming across a handful of walkers in the process which were all easy enough to take out. Once they had found the room, Gareth quickly looked through the set of keys he had retrieved earlier. Finding the correct one, he pushed it into the keyhole and turned, unlocking the door with a satisfactory 'click'. As they both stepped inside, Daryl found himself overwhelmed by what he saw. Colt pistols, Smith and Wessons, Glock, Walther, AK's and M14's lined the walls of the small storage room.

"Fuck... How has nobody found this place yet?" Daryl questioned, looking at the various rifles and handguns on offer to them. He took off the duffel bag and placed it on the ground. Gareth wasted no time in opening it and filling it with as many guns and as much ammunition as he could.

"Because nobody knew it was here. It was for military use, in case the outbreak got too bad... which obviously it did." Gareth shrugged. He picked up a brand new Glock pistol and held it at arms length, examining the metal and weight. "Hey, what do you think? Should I use this one to kill Rick?"

Daryl looked at Gareth, with hatred in his eyes. He was taunting Daryl and he knew damn well that was what he was doing. Gareth turned to see the maddened expression on his new travelling companions face and laughed.

"Come on, I'm just kidding." Gareth shook his head, placing the pistol into the duffel bag before he examined the guns on offer yet again. He quickly grabbed an AK-47 which a fine black mental finish and held it out to Daryl. "This one would be way better. Just... pow, dead. Bye bye Sheriff."

"Stop it." Daryl tried to protect his anger, which was quickly rising to the surface. He felt a tight knot in his chest when he thought of his group, when he thought of Rick. It was not loosened at all by Gareth's sudden tormenting nature. Daryl had to fight back to urge to take a swing at his captor. He had to remind himself, Gareth was the one with the gun.

"Or what?" Gareth grinned, excitement running away with him. He loved the idea of having such control and power over someone. "What about this one?" He walked across the room and picked up a M14 which bragged a fine light wooden finish. "I've always liked rifles, they can do a lot of damage. What do you think? Should I use this one to kill your best friend? It'd give you quite the show."

Without giving it a second thought, Daryl lunged himself at Gareth, throwing as many punches as he could. The majority made contact and he felt a slight sense of release as he took out his anger on Gareth. Punch after punch he threw as he toppled on top of his captor. Gareth, however small his frame may have been, was fast and agile. He managed to wrestle his way on top of Daryl. pinning the rednecks hands on the cold hard tiled floor as he lingered over him.

"I told you not to try anything stupid." He warned, a slightly psychotic smile on his lips. Daryl wrestled with his captor, attempted to break free from the hold Gareth had on him, but the cannibal was strong, despite his appearance. After a minute, they both stayed silent, panting as the short but rough dispute took its toll. Gareth slowly removed his hands from Daryl's, giving his captor a slightly sense of freedom. His first mistake.

Daryl seized the opportunity and pushed Gareth off of him. He cannibal fell to the floor with a thud. Daryl quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed Gareth by the collar of his t-shirt, ripping it only slightly. He pulled his captor to his feet and then pushed his body hard against the metal frame which held the various firearms they had been looking for previously. Now just inches apart, Daryl looked Gareth deep in the eyes.

"Don't play that game with me." Daryl mumbled, anger still flooding his voice. He held Gareth's t-shirt in his hands, tightly clenching at the fabric as they continued their awkward encounter. So close, that their bodies were almost touching. Both felt it was a necessity to move away from each other, this was an invasion of person space. However, neither made the attempt. Instead they stayed close, Daryl's eyes focusing on nothing but his captors. A long lost feeling of connection seemed to attack them both unexpectedly. The need for belonging. Something both of them had long lost. It was strange, and surreal to look at each other and feel something other than hatred.

Before they had time to truly dwell on the situation, a distant groaning noise filled the air, and another, followed by other. Soon, it sounded as if the entire population of Savannah were in that hallway. Daryl quickly released Gareth's shirt, despite a small niggling sound at the back of his mind telling him not to. He grabbed a Glock M8 Pistol from the cabinet just next to the door and opened it ever so slowly. As he peeked outside of the room, he noticed one or two walkers heading their direction.

Gareth on the other hand, could not take his eyes off of Daryl for a moment. This redneck had sparked an emotion in him which, for once, wasn't negative. Once the realization had set in, he quickly zipped up the duffel bag, and decided to make a run for it. He could hear the moans that echoed down the corridor and the horrible stench of the undead, a hoard was fast approaching.

"Move, come on!" He yelled at Daryl, before opening the door and pushing the redneck outside. Daryl looked awestruck for a moment as he took in the scene before him. The corridor they had previously walked down was now infested with walking corpses. Gareth left the room too with the duffel bag securely over his shoulder. He grabbed Daryl's arm and led them both in the opposite direction. He knew the quickest way to the fire exit, and he needed to protect not only himself, but his prisoner as well.

As they set off at a fast pace, they made their way down a long winding corridor. Left, right, down two flights of stairs and through a nurses station. They made their way outside, quickly sealing the emergency exit door behind them as they continued at a run across a long stretch of grass. Once used as a public garden, and now a graveyard for walkers.

Quickly, they made it through a large gathering of trees and to the other side, where yet a more fields were available to roam. Gareth stopped suddenly, he lent cautiously against a tree and attempted to catch his breath, he angrily threw the duffel bag from his shoulder and to the floor. Daryl stopped too, leaning over and supporting himself as he caught his breath.

"The military managed to wipe out whatever was left..." Daryl panted, looking over at Gareth who too, was very short of breath and slightly shaken up. "Fucking genius."

After a moments break, they both stood and gave each other a look that spoke a thousand words. They were clearly both thankful that they had made it out alive, but also an understanding of 'I wont forget what happened back there'. Gareth again, stayed silent. He picked up the duffel bag and secured it over his shoulder once again. He set off at a slow pace across the wooded and grassy area, quickly followed by his captor. Luckily, Gareth knew a shortcut back to where they had left their car. He would get them back their easily enough.

Meanwhile, just out of sight in the treeline. A woman stood tall, watching the two men as they walked together, almost in harmony. She sighed and kept a close eye on the two survivors before they were out of sight. As she turned, something caught the sunlight. A long blade in which she carried on her back glistened as she returned to her group. With new information for her fellow survivors.