DISCLAIMER: I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine.
WARNINGS: Rated T for language, violence, and gore. Comic spoilers later on but you'll be warned about those specifically before they happen.
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows y'all are awesome. And I mean that. Seriously.
"We'll have to come back for some of this," said Tyreese as he Rick, Glenn, and Michonne poked around the abandoned army camp. "Generators….lights….finally some decent bedding. Who knows what's inside the store."
"But why is it so empty?" asked Glenn. He stooped over to pick up a picture of woman holding a small child. After a moment he returned it to the ground figuring anyone attached to the picture was probably dead. "It doesn't look like they got overrun."
"Ran out of food and moved on," guessed Tyreese. "Too hard to farm or hunt in the middle of a town."
"Daryl would die here," mused Glenn.
"We'd all die here," put in Rick darkly. He'd been trying to figure out a use for the place from the moment it'd been spotted. The town's walker population was the lowest they'd seen out of anywhere. The camp was secure, enough, but he wasn't ready to risk relocating the entire prison just yet. This place could work in an emergency though. If the prison fell, they could retreat here and regroup. Rick already put it on his to-do list to have everyone at the prison learn the way to the camp for that purpose.
Rick pointed towards the door with his revolver. "Let's go on inside….see if Daryl's found anything interesting." The four started walking and Rick stepped over a picture of a couple on their wedding day. "Ya know Glenn, I've been meaning to ask you, what do you want to do about your wedding?"
Glenn scratched the back of his head. "Uh well….we haven't talked about it much but I guess we'll do something once it's spring. We can have it outside and maybe Hershel can marry Maggie and I….I was thinking you'd be my best man."
Rick stopped and looked at the kid. "Really? I'd be honored to Glenn."
"It's good to have some things going back to the way they were," said Tyreese. "Don't think you can have much of a honeymoon though."
"I'll give them an uninterrupted night it the guard tower," laughed Rick.
Glenn rolled his eyes and reached to open the store door for the others.
They entered the store single file, weapons at the ready. Tyreese let out a small "whoa" behind Rick as they took in the rows of medical supplies, ammo, food, and tactical gear. Rick was just thinking that they were finally getting lucky when a loud crack made them freeze. After an impossibly long second, there was the sound of shuffling feet along one of the far walls.
"You ok there Daryl?" asked Tyreese.
Another unbearable second ticked by with no response to Tyreese's question.
Michonne started to where the first sound came from but Rick caught the bottom of her shirt and held her back. "Daryl?" he said in a tone that was more begging than a question. Whatever had made that noise, Rick didn't like it. It sounded like it hurt and the fact that there was no cussing associated with it unnerved him. "Daryl," his voice demanded.
Two short whistles answered him.
Daryl had sometimes used whistles to alert them to danger in tight situations, so what kind of trouble was in the store?
Rick motioned for them to advance cautiously. They pressed together and eased their way in the direction of the whistles. Rick kept his eyes up and scanned the store for any movement. He was all too aware of how the breathing of his companions was getting louder, his was too.
Rick took another step forward and his foot snagged on something: Daryl's crossbow. Oh that was not good. Where was the man that was always attached to it?
The sheriff lifted the bow off the ground and studied it. His eyes passed over the weapon in silent disbelief. There was no blood, no signs of a struggle. How could Daryl be disarmed and why would he just leave his bow behind?
Another two quick whistles had the hair on the back of Rick's neck standing straight up. There was an audible click as he pulled the hammer on his gun back. In another motion, he slung Daryl's crossbow over his back: He'd be sure to return it to the hunter after they had this situation resolved. Rick took a few timid steps forward but frowned when the path they were on took a sudden turn to the right. They wouldn't be able to see what was around the corner. Gun raised head high, he angled his body and made a large step to the side.
"Stop!"
Rick didn't need to be told to stop nor was he thinking about moving ever again. The command must have been issued to Glenn, Michonne, and Tyreese.
"Stop," repeated the man from behind Daryl.
The man was seated on the floor with Daryl pressed into his chest like he was being used as a shield. His head drifted listlessly and was kept up only the slightest amount by the knife biting into his throat. The attacker's knife arm snaked across Daryl's chest pinning him back while the other hand raised a gun and pointed it at Rick.
There was already a thin line of blood seeping from under the blade at Daryl's throat. At least that was something: Dead men don't bleed.
"I'm going to put my gun down….we're not looking for trouble," said Rick as he placed his weapon on the floor. He raised his hands in an offering of peace.
The stranger's gun slid from Rick onto Tyreese.
"Weapons down," breathed Rick after he sensed the others hesitating. He never took his eyes off the pair in front of him but he heard the soft thuds as his companions disarmed.
"Crossbow," said the man and brought his gun back to Rick. Rick really didn't want to take the crossbow off his back. He was somehow drawing comfort from his friend's weapon and he wasn't ready to part with it. However Rick's second of indecision cost Daryl. The man pressed the knife deeper into Daryl's throat and more blood trickled down his neck.
"Ok….ok…."said Rick as he removed the bow and set it at his feet. "We don't want trouble. Let him go and we'll leave."
The man didn't say anything and Rick used the moment to observe him. His skin was dark and a short graying beard clung to his sunken face. He had a thick deep scar on his chin but nothing else stood out. He wore army fatigues and Rick was flooded with the realization that this was the lone survivor of the camp they'd found. Why just one person?
"Why are you here?" the man asked without a quiver of emotion.
"We need supplies. We have a group with women and children we're trying to care for," answered Rick trying to earn the man's sympathies.
"Why?"
Hadn't he just told the man why?
"We have a group….women, some elderly, small children….my name is Rick."
"Bill," said the man. Rick doubted this was anywhere near the man's real name. He'd never run into any Bills before. It was so common it was uncommon.
"Ok Bill…" started Rick, "why don't you let our friend go and we'll walk out and you'll never see us again."
"What's he to you?" Bill asked with a slight nod to Daryl.
"Everything," thought Rick. He couldn't just sum up all that Daryl had done for the group in a few words.
"He's our friend, an excellent hunter. He helps take care of my daughter…." There, another small play at empathy.
"There's a chest on your left," said Bill. Rick hated to take his eyes of Daryl or the man but looked to where the man had indicated. "Put your weapons in it and lock it. I don't like them dirtying up my floor….My squad spent all night cleaning it and now you come in and just start throwing your things around!" he yelled and jerked his gun at Rick.
Squad? What the hell was he talking about? Were there others and they were just out? The four, five if Daryl came to, would be no match for a larger group.
Michonne passed the weapons to Rick as he grudgingly locked them away. Rick figured this day couldn't get any worse. He was staring down the barrel of a gun. Daryl was unconscious with a knife to his throat. And now they were completely unarmed for the first time since the world went to shit.
"Like I said, my squad worked all night to clean this place. I hope you didn't wake them up when you stormed in here: They're sleeping in the tents outside," said Bill. His gun dropped an inch as he took his eyes off Rick and looked over Daryl.
"The tents with the rows of empty cots that looked like they hadn't been touched in months? Those tents?" thought Rick.
"No, oh no. We were very quiet," confirmed Rick. "Your men work hard; they deserve to rest."
Bill appeared to pull Daryl in tighter. Rick was suddenly forced to blink away a drop of sweat that rolled into his eye. He swore his heart couldn't beat any faster as he tried to recall his sheriff training. He just needed to keep calm and figure out what Bill wanted. But it was impossible to keep calm when Daryl was being held hostage by a madman.
"Can we do something for you…can we help you at all?"
"No. Not a damn thing," sighed Bill.
Rick cringed as Glenn spoke up. "Are you going to kill us?" he asked.
Bill's lips curled into a laughing smile. "If I was going to kill you we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."
"Ok," said Rick, "so if you'll just let Daryl go, we'll leave. You can even keep our weapons." Rick felt Michonne sending daggers his way. He'd have no idea where to start looking for a new katana for her if Bill accepted the offer. "We're all civilized here, we can…."
Rick stopped short when he saw Daryl's hand twitch: He was coming around.
However thankful he was to see his friend stirring, Daryl was not going to take being held at knife point after getting knocked out well. This had to be resolved now.
Daryl groaned which made Bill shift nervously behind him. He was still out but maybe for only another minute.
"Ok Rick," said Bill with a sneering smile, "I think I like you so I'm going to help you out here." Surprisingly to all, Bill lowered his gun and tucked it into the waist of his pants. "You see Rick, there's a grey box over behind the Asian kid and you're going to need it in another minute." He hauled Daryl up but the hunter's feet were still dead under him causing Bill to support his weight. The hand that had previously been holding the gun moved into Daryl's hair and yanked his head back. The skin on his neck was pulled tight allowing more blood to ooze from the thin cut. Bill's eyes moved slowly off of Daryl and then met Rick's intense gaze. Rick could do nothing as he watched Bill's knife slice easily through the skin on Daryl's neck.
"NO!" shouted the voices from the prison and the four lurched forward. Bill pushed Daryl away from him and ran.
Rick caught Daryl before he hit the ground and quickly found his bloody neck. He pressed his hands harshly over the cut as his friend's life spilled through his fingers and onto the floor.
A/N: So that was a bit shorter of a chapter. I hope there weren't any "problems" with it. No cliffhangers or anything...
