Michonne nodded, taking another turn after making sure that their pursuers were close enough to see where they were going. Now that they had managed to procure what they needed without being observed while getting it, they needed to make sure that these people didn't lose them. They had to keep them from starting to search the area and finding the prison at all cost. They might have walkie talkies or CB radios to keep in contact with their home base, and whoever was at that home base must not learn of the prison.
Daryl was fiddling with the locks of the traffic spikes box, unable to sit still. His right leg still bouncing up and down as it had been ever since he'd gotten back into the car, he reached into one of his pants pockets and got out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read it, frowned, then folded it again and put it back. „You brought a shopping list?" she asked, surpised. He hadn't consulted this when it would have made sense - while they had been out searching houses. He just shook his head, frowning some more, and she let it go. Maybe someone needed something that they didn't want to be public knowledge - and if there was one thing Daryl excelled at, it was not talking about stuff.
They were approaching the village with the train tracks running across its eastern edge on an overpass, held aloft by a dozen sturdy reinforced concrete columns, easily wide enough to hide their truck behind. The road leading into the village cut through one corner of the space created by this huge building; the rest had been used for a parking lot for the adjacent supermarket on the edge of the village and was subdivided by lattice walls set on concrete bases - similar to the one Michonne had hidden behind earlier, just larger - that were overgrown with climbing plants, all of them dead now.
The lattices were still good for hiding behind them, though, so once she reached the overpass, about a mile ahead of their pursuers, Michonne stopped the truck behind the first column to let Daryl get out. Yanking the spike strip, his bow and his rifle out with him, he hopped out, closed his door and limped off toward the next column on the right. Michonne immediately continued onto the parking lot and stopped the car behind the nearest column. Grabbing her rifle, she got out and ran toward Daryl who was unfolding the traffic spikes.
As he looked up, panting with exertion again, she grabbed the end of the spike band he wasn't holding and ran across the street with it. As soon as she reached the opposite sidewalk they both let go of it and went off in opposite directions, each of them hunkering down behind one of the lattice dividers - and just in time, too, as their pursuers were now approaching the overpass.
Daryl held his breath as the cars raced toward them, quickly glancing around one last time. The truck was nowhere in sight. The road continued on into the village and those murderous bastards had to assume that they had taken it. There was nothing to indicate to the drivers that it might be better to stop - and they didn't. The first car ran over the traffic spikes at full speed to spectacular results. There was a loud bang, followed immediately by another one, as all four of the car's tires blew in pairs, catapulting it off the street. It flipped over in midair, landing on its roof with a loud crash of splintering glass and the screech of overstressed metal.
The driver of the second car nearly ran it off the street with shock, then tried to stop in time, but he was going too fast and ran over the spikes at considerable speed, blowing his own tires as well. As he had not been going at quite the same speed as the first car, he didn't flip over but the car just slithered and shuddered to a stop, crashing into the first one with its rear end. The driver and passenger airbags exploded into their faces while the man in the back seat was thrown face first into the driver's headrest, his head flopping bonelessly to the side immediately after impact. First one down already, without a single shot fired, Daryl noted.
Adrenaline making his hands shake, Daryl trained his crossbow at the first car. Here, too, the driver and passenger airbags had opened but weren't blocking the view of those two as they were still upside down in their seats, restrained by their seatbelts. They seemed quite dazed, though, shaking their heads and obviously still trying to get their bearings. The passenger on the back seat of the first car had already succeeded in opening his seatbelt and had crumpled on the roof, rocking the wreck as he tried to kick open his door.
Realizing that he'd only waste a good bolt if he loosed it at an intact window, probably ruining it in the process, Daryl exchanged his bow for the rifle, took aim and gently squeezed the trigger, careful to not shoot more than once. The rear passenger window shattered into a million pieces and the passenger's blood sprayed the car when Daryl's bullet hit home. Exhaling slowly, Daryl watched as the driver of the first car reached for his hip and got hold of a handgun, looking around for someone to aim at. Well, this wouldn't fly.
Carefully taking aim again, his hands perfectly steady now even though his breathing was way too fast and ragged again, Daryl squeezed the trigger once more, hitting the driver in the face. The passenger started wailing as the man next to him died, expecting to be next. Unfortunately, though, the door frames were blocking Daryl's shot at the passenger; either Michonne would need to take him out or he would have to wait for the man to make his way out of the car - unless they managed to take out the remaining two from the second car first, in which case Daryl was prepared to get out of hiding and let the man see who was killing him as he got himself a clear shot.
By now, the airbags in the second car were deflating and the driver and passenger started fighting against their seatbelts and their skewed doors, scrambling to get out of their vehicle. They had heard the shots and wanted out so they could start looking for the fuckhead taking out their people. The passenger was first to get out, and he was stopped short as Michonne got him with a shot to the stomach, even as he started turning around to look for them. He fired one shot that grazed her left shoulder before she took him out with a headshot.
The driver started screaming as well now, his door exploding outward with one final kick, and he launched himself from his seat, still in shock and wobbling on this feet from the crash. Drawing a Colt, he started weaving his way toward Daryl's hiding place, completely unaware that he was even approaching their assailant. Grabbing his crossbow, Daryl slowly got to his feet and limped around the divider, his bow up and ready. When the driver saw him, he got off one panicked shot without aiming properly, still disoriented and shaking from the crash he'd been in, so he only caught Daryl in his upper right arm. He was looking Daryl right in the eye, his own eyes wide and frightened, when the bolt hit him in the forehead.
Looking across at Michonne who had also come out of hiding, Daryl nodded at her and she took the final shot, taking out the passenger of the first car before he ever got out of his seat. She gave him a respectful nod as she started collecting the weapons their opponents had dropped. „Great plan, perfect execution", she commented, the double entendre not lost on him - and he assumed it was not coincidence, either. She was wicked, this one.
Leaning against the divider he had been hiding behind, he watched her gathering the weapons and getting the traffic spikes ready to pack into their box again. „These might come in handy next time", she said as she deposited everything at his feet. „Let me just get the truck while you wait here." Looking at his arm which had meanwhile started bleeding, she added: „I'll dig out the first aid kit again."
„Yeah, won't run away, I promise", he mumbled sarcastically. Getting his rifle from behind the divider, he started cleaning it with his faded and frayed red rag while she got the car and found space in it for the traffic spikes - he was exhausted, injured and in pain and she didn't want him to balance the heavy box on his thighs again, as he had on the way here. When she was done, she patiently waited for him to make his way back into his seat, his face so fierce and determined that she realized he would not accept help this time around.
Just as he was about to get in he heard a squawking sound from the second car, followed by a static crackle. He squinted at the car, then at Michonne, his face alarmed. „They got radio", he mumbled, dumping his crossbow and the traffic spikes on the passenger seat. „I got this." Limping over to the car, he bent down to look at the dashboard through the open door on the driver's side. His mouth curled in disgust when it saw it was switched to broadcasting automatically, realizing that the people at the other end had probably heard their gunfight. Raising his rifle, he slienced it with one shot before returning to their truck.