So. update.
It's been about three hours and I finally found a trace of Daryl.
For a while, I was following tracks blindly, hoping that it was his. They were neat. Tidy. Everything an accomplished hunter would want.
Of course, I was assuming the guard dog was ever an 'accomplished' anything.
He was probably just a drunken hick before the apocalypse started.
Anyway.
I had followed his tracks, well his and what looked like two other people's tracks, to a little shack in the middle of the woods.
The closer I got the sloppier his tracks became. Looks like someone was in a hurry.
The asshole probably got himself bit. Great. I was gonna have to kill yet another person in that little group.
I wonder if it's possible to still get a degree in death-dealing. I could just see it now.
'Aidan Alexander; Death Bringer M.D.: Here to put you out of your misery.'
Kinda has a ring to it, doesn't it?
The door to the shack opened, pulling me out of my thoughts. My eyes narrow on the two men walking out. One is tall, with dark brown hair, shoulder-length. The other is shorter, with buzzcut blonde hair, but heavier. He would be harder to deal with out of the two. If it came to that.
"Listen, Ralph. He will appreciate us bringing him someone of this skill. We might even get to use the hot showers. I mean how many good hunters do we have? That's right. Zero." The taller of the two said as he patted his friend on the shoulder. "Trust me. We will be heroes!"
Well, at least this means the guard dog isn't dead. Yet.
"You are assuming this asshole can be reformed. I mean I've seen some characters but this guy is a grade-A asshole. I think we should just put him down. One less rabid animal to deal with. I mean look at me! He fucking bit me on the arm. Do you hear me, Tony? He. Bit. Me."
The shorter one said, with a tone of exasperation in his voice.
Well seems I'm not the only one who finds him hard to deal with. Although I gotta say I'm impressed with the bite move.
Very Suave. Kudos guard dog.
"Look the best thing we can do for now is to go get some firewood and make ourselves a fire. This asshole was able to snag 6 rabbits before we got ahold of him. We could have roast rabbit for ourselves. A victory dinner for tonight. Then we can decide what to do with him. All I know is I am starving and for once we don't have to share. We can cook 2 and still come back looking like bonafide badasses. What do ya say?"
Tony said as he smiled down at his partner, obviously proud of himself.
6 rabbits huh? I Gotta say for a redneck hick boy, Daryl didn't do to bad.
"Yea, yea ok. Roast rabbit does sound pretty good." Ralph said as he sighed in defeat. A chuckle escaping his lips.
"Listen, Tony, you go get firewood. I will stay here and watch over the sleeping beauty in there. I have a feeling he is not going to be happy when he wakes up." Ralph grinned up at Tony. It was a sadistic grin.
I needed to save Daryl. And soon.
"Ok. I'll be back soon." And with that Tony, the tall one, was off.
Well, that did make my job easier. At the very least I will only have one of them to deal with. At Least for now.
"Damn it's hot..." Ralph murmured as he rolled the sleeves on his t-shirt. He was covered in tattoos, but only one tattoo was fresh and black. The tattoo of the sun.
It wasn't a fancy sun or something from before the apocolpyse.
NO. I've seen this tattoo before.
Panic began to set in, As I gripped the handle of my sword. Tightly.
Memories began to swirl in my head. Painful memories.
Memories of being tortured, and branded.
Memories I'd sooner forget.
"Now, drop your weapons and raise those pretty little hands for me, darling. I'd hate to have to hurt you." My body stilled, my breath caught in my throat. I could feel him, Tony, pressing his gun against the base of my skull.
Shit. This really was going to be a very long night.
I dropped my sword, my hands slowly rising to the air.
"Good girl. Now stand up, and no funny business. You aren't the first bitch I've had to put down." He grunted out at me.
Time slowed. As it normally did when I had a choice. Fight or flight is what I believe it was called before. Now I call it Do or Die.
Option A - I try to fight them both. Out in the open on a sprained Ankle.
Option B. - I try to take down Tony here, and hope I'm fast enough to save Daryl. Normally this wouldn't be a problem but my sprained ankle isn't necessarily helping, ya know?
Option C. - Use the ankle to my benefit. Get them enclosed. A smaller area means less moving and hopping around. I like it.
Option C it is.
"I can't. My ankle is sprained... I did well to get here. I was just looking for my... ( Que pause for dramatic effect) friend. He disappeared a few hours ago. Please, please don't hurt me. " I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. It sounded weak, pitiful. Just how I wanted it to.
He made his way around my body so that he was standing right in front of me. His eyes scanning my entire body before resting on my ankle. No doubt he was wondering if I had been bitten or not.
"Show me your Ankle." He commanded, his gun still aimed perfectly at my head.
Time to cue the fireworks. This was going to be fun.
Fearful sobs escape my lips as I pull my pants leg up and unwrap my ankle slowly. "S-see no bite... It's j-just super s-swollen."
He stared at my ankle longer than I would have expected him to. Before he finally accepted that there was indeed no bite.
In one swift motion, he bent down and lifted me up by the elbow. Jerked more likely but still.
He wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned me against him so that I could walk with the good leg and use him as the other.
He kept his little pistol aimed at me. It hung loosely in the air pointed at my midsection.
"Any funny business and I won't hesitate, you got me?" He grumbled out quietly. Every step I took I made sure to wince, whimper, and cry in pain.
I could see him relax. He didn't even reach for the rest of my weapons. Although he did leave my sword outside. That was going to be an issue.
The good news is, he saw me just like I wanted him to.
Weak and Frail. Harmless.
His mistake.