October 1, 2015
Although Ellie had agreed to let Daryl be about the issue of Glenn's crush, he'd found it hard to keep any real distance from Glenn. Daryl trusts the younger man at his back in a way he rarely trusts anyone, and to complicate it, Glenn senses any hesitation faster than anyone Daryl's ever known. Worse, Glenn tends to assume it's his fault, and that was never Daryl's intention.
In the end, he just goes back to how he's always interacted with Glenn. Keeping the friendship is the important part, after all.
Today, they're across the state border in Florida on a combination supply run and scouting trip. Jacksonville shows a level of devastation even Atlanta didn't, evidence of what can happen with the full power of local military bases versus end run, haphazard military bombing. The city wasn't hit with random bouts of napalm, but nearly bombarded off the map. It makes Daryl wonder what Fort Benning looks like.
Most telling is that despite Jacksonville being the staging base for the US Navy for the Caribbean, there's not a single ship in sight, not even sunken into water. Whatever happened as civilization fell, someone called a retreat on the fleet here, after they leveled the city that sustained their base. The Marine base on Blount Island is similarly deserted and mostly destroyed.
The irony is that scavenging is safer here, even if they have to work a bit harder. Whatever population turned, or didn't turn and got caught in the crossfire between military and walking dead, got wiped out a lot more thoroughly than Atlanta. The rubble and debris also make it harder for herds to gather up.
"You think they evacuated the city first?" Glenn asks, surveying the destruction from atop what was once a freeway overpass. The fallen slabs of concrete and steel are easy enough for the pair of them to climb to get a birds-eye view of the area.
Daryl shakes his head. "Place this size? Doubt it. You saw the notices in Savannah telling people to come here."
Just like Atlanta, the living had been gathered to supposedly safer places, only to suffer when the government lost control. Daryl can still feel the horror that spread among the few first responders left standing in Atlanta when they realized that napalm was being dropped on the city they'd been trying to save. Nothing worse for a firefighter to watch than to see people and buildings deliberately burned in one of the most inhumane ways possible, especially when there had been no way for it to succeed at that point.
Glenn shivers, and Daryl realizes he's never asked where Glenn was when Atlanta was bombed. He knows Glenn is also from Atlanta, although he'd lived on the opposite side of the city from Daryl's family.
"Anything to worry about?" Rick calls up. He and Maggie are standing guard at the bottom of the vantage point Daryl and Glenn are using, while the rest of the run team stayed with the vehicles at the closest point they could reach without going on foot.
"Looks like some trapped geeks about a mile to the southwest," Glenn replies after raising his binoculars. "Some leftover fencing and a collapsed multi-story building keeping them rounded up. Can't see any signs that say we should head that way."
Looking for any remaining signs for stores with available supplies is what really helps here. Somehow those survive better than buildings, or at least stand out more, usually because they're splashes of color among the gray-black-brown of the destroyed buildings.
Daryl nudges Glenn, raising his own binoculars. "You see movement due west?"
"Huh."
Glenn's quiet for a moment, but Daryl doesn't need the eventual affirmation. Walkers don't climb, and just like they're using debris as a perch, so is someone else in the distance.
"Probably not surviving military," Glenn mutters. "Civilian who is picking through the city like us?"
Looking toward the base of the person's perch, Daryl grunts in agreement. "Got at least two more with them."
They both clamber down to their waiting teammates. There's a combination of excitement and concern as they explain to Rick and Maggie. Finding the living is such a rarity that it's hard to not instantly go to them, but caution is always merited. Not everyone they meet is going to be friendly, and they're all well aware of it.
"If they're a small group, not everyone is geared up to survive long," Rick says, wearing that worried frown Daryl's become used to. For all the past conflict he's had with Rick, he knows the man takes the 'serve and protect' part of his old profession far more seriously than most.
Maggie nods, looking worried. "Pure luck we made it safely as long as we did. If the farm hadn't already been fairly self-sustaining, we never would have. Around a city like this? What are the odds people would have been prepared to lose all the modern conveniences?"
Daryl figures she's right. In his experience, the hardcore prepper types don't set up near large metropolitan centers, and those sorts of people rarely look after anyone other than their own direct kin. Still, he knows they'll lay the final decision with him, so he sighs.
"Can't take the risk of leaving someone who needs help, but we need to proceed with caution." As soon as the other three nod in agreement, Daryl radios the other four, notifying them of the plan and the general location of the new survivors. Setting out in the dusty, humid heat, they set out to discover if their group is about to get a little bit larger.
Finding their targets is easy enough, because they're at least experienced enough to try to be quiet, but they aren't very good at it yet. Maggie and Rick edge in one direction, taking cover while Rick signals they'll stay as backup. As Maggie slips into place with her rifle, Daryl knows she'll play sniper if needed. She's got his back.
From behind a twisted mess that was once the steel framing to a warehouse, Daryl and Glenn eavesdrop. It's two men and a woman, and the woman seems pretty pissed at both her companions. She's also the quietest one, hissing at the men to keep noise to a minimum or she's making runs on her own. At the sound of debris being moved around, Daryl assumes they've found something they think is worth scavenging.
"Just because you were a firefighter doesn't mean you know everything, Sasha," one of the men grumbles.
"Oh yeah? Well, it means I know the best way to move this shit around so you don't get crushed, or would you prefer I let you break a bone or two and learn the hard way?" She sounds more exasperated than pissed, at least.
Glenn nudges Daryl and mouths, "Firefighter."
Daryl rolls his eyes but nods. "Been my experience that civilians should always defer to the firefighter on a scene like this," he calls out. "Gonna step out in the open, if y'all promise not to get trigger happy."
Fellow firefighter or not, Daryl's seen that all three are armed, both with firearms and blunt weapons, even if none of them have their guns at ready. Smarter to rely on the heavy weapons, like the hammer the biggest guy is carrying. But that doesn't mean they aren't fast on the draw, and he really doesn't want to explain to Ellie why Glenn's first field triage is treating a gunshot wound due to Daryl's stupidity.
"Maybe stepping out slowly is a good idea, mister." It confirms Daryl's idea that the woman is at least nominally the leader, since not only did she reply, but when he does step cautiously into view, she's the only one with a weapon at ready. One of the men at least has his hand to his gun in the holster, but the biggest guy looks torn between stepping between the woman and Daryl and being wary of her drawn gun.
Flourishing his hands to show he's unarmed, he watches her scan him, carefully noting the holstered gun at his hip and the crossbow at his back. "You got a name?" she asks.
"Daryl Dixon. Formerly of the Atlanta Fire Department."
"You're a long way from home, Mister Dixon." She's wary, but she isn't raising her gun at least. "Sasha Williams. Jacksonville Fire Department before the world lost its damn mind."
"Led a group down this way to see what else might have survived. Atlanta's not as bad as here, but there's also a lot more walkers."
Sasha sighs softly. "Everywhere probably has more walkers than here, but damned things are trapped in a lot of places. Worse than trying to avoid gators in the swamp sometimes. Gotta keep my people fed, though."
People probably means more than just the two men with her, because Sasha sounds too protective to just be referring to them. Daryl considers the situation, wondering if they have kids in their group, and whether or not they have safe shelter either way. Winter is coming, and while northern Florida isn't likely to go frigid, it won't be fun without proper housing either.
"Easier to keep everyone fed in a larger group, especially if you've got a hunter or two."
It draws Sasha's attention back to the crossbow, and he can tell when she makes the connection. "You looking to join us?"
Daryl shakes his head. "Nah. Got my own family somewhere safe. Brother and nieces. Gathered up a handful of others. Got a couple of cops, medical other than me, and even a damn veterinarian for the critters we've been saving."
Sasha's eyebrows shoot so far up her forehead in disbelief it's almost comical. "You're so secure you're saving animals?"
"We are, and we got room for more people, if you're the decent kind."
Although Sasha and one of her companions look suspicious, it's the relief on the biggest guy's face that tells Daryl they're probably bringing these people home. He's seen that look before, when he and his coworkers cracked a crushed vehicle open enough to get face to face with an accident victim who'd just spent the last hour losing hope that they could escape the hell they'd been landed in. The guy drops a hand on Sasha's shoulder, making her look his way.
The second their gazes meet, Daryl changes the probably to definitely. He isn't sure how the two are connected, not yet, but he knows the look of two people who will die for each other if needed.
Turns out that Daryl's right about the group being larger, but he'd been a bit off about the idea that a prepper wouldn't take in unrelated people. Sasha and her brother, Tyreese, survived the wholescale bombing of Jacksonville by retreating to a neighbor's reinforced storm shelter that Daryl suspects was more bunker than storm shelter based on their descriptions. But the neighbor hadn't stayed holed up, so their group is outgrowing the underground shelter after they saved a father and his two children.
They don't have the supplies they intended when they head back to Savannah, not this trip, but they've expanded their number of survivors by six, including two little girls younger than Sophia. Daryl considers that even more valuable than more canned goods or medical supplies any day.
The desperate sort of gratitude they display when Daryl checks in on the newcomers near bedtime makes him uncomfortable. He remembers them eying the conversions Daryl's people have done on the old Civil War era fort with amazement. The fact that their initial sleeping quarters was once a prison unit doesn't phase anyone, with the little girls even seeing it as a sort of adventure.
Sasha is still reasonably wary though, studying the barred door with a wary gaze as the others take the extra blankets he brought. "You gonna lock us in?"
"We talked it over, and the answer is not unless y'all give us reason to."
Daryl sees no reason to lie to the woman, and it had been an intense discussion between him, Shane, and Jacqui. In the end, the newly vacant prison casements no longer being used as bachelor quarters keep the newcomers together in a place easy enough to watch. In addition to the usual single person watching for any outside incursions, they've added an interior watch until everyone's sure of the intentions of their newest residents.
The honesty makes Sasha relax and smile at him. "Can't blame y'all for worrying. I know I would, if the situation was reversed."
One of the stray cats that Glenn can't help collecting wanders up, winding its lean body around Daryl's legs and meowing in a way that alerts the two girls instantly. They abandon exploring the games and toys they've been given to come kneel and try to coax the cat to them.
"What's her name?" Mika asks, her voice full of that breathless awe Daryl thinks is built-in for girls and cats.
"This one's a boy. Glenn calls him Stormy."
"Because he's all gray and splotchy?" The cat's half climbing Lizzie as the girl speaks, rubbing his broad head under her chin and making a chuffing noise that sounds more appropriate to a big cat than a housecat.
"Guess so." There are five cats around the fort now, left to roam at will. They keep the rodent and reptile population at bay, so everyone pampers them. None have been named anything complex, almost all bearing monikers like Stormy does.
"Can he stay with us?"
Mika looks pretty damn hopeful, so Daryl nods.
"Long as he wants to. He might sleep on your bed, but he might go roaming and come back. Might bring a friend, so if another cat wanders in, there's a few more."
Permission given, Lizzie lifts the big tom cat and carries him off, Mika following and telling the cat how pretty he is. Since Stormy's always content to be lugged around by Sophia and Sadie, Daryl figures the cat's just gained a few more doting fan girls.
Sasha watches them go with a sad smile. "That's the happiest I've seen either of them since we found them."
Since the brief history Daryl was given includes that the girls not only lost their mama but saw her taken down by walkers, he can only imagine the nightmares those kids experience. "Well, if pet therapy works like they always swear it does, they'll have plenty of fluffy things to get to know around here. I'll take them out to see the horses in the morning."
"You'll end up with Mika as your permanent shadow if you throw horses into the mix."
"Yeah, well, she's got other girls to play with. They won't be lonesome with Sadie and the others around. Tell them I'll take them after breakfast."
"I'll do that. It's sweet of you to think of them."
Sasha sounds a little too admiring, and Daryl decides maybe it's time to retreat, half turning even as he tells her goodnight. It doesn't stop him from catching her assessing look, and now it isn't just trying to see if he's safe around her people. It's been nice, being mostly ignored by the ladies of their group, so be never thought of bringing new people in changing that. Sighing, he decides to treat it like every other time it's happened; ignore it until it goes away.
Should still work, right?