"I'm Dave." the smaller man, took up a seat at the closest table.
I poured a row of drinks into semi-clean glasses(cleanest I could find), and slid them down the bar, towards Glenn at the end; who had moved behind the counter with me.
"That scrawny lookin' douchebag there is Tony." 'Dave' smiled at his heavier friend.
The larger Tony sat at the bar laughed, "Eat me, Dave."
"Hey, maybe someday I will." Dave quipped as Rick set one of the drinks he took from the bar next to the man.
"We met on I-95 comin' outta Phili. Damn shit show that was."
"I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people." Glenn gave the same friendly smile he had when we first met on the stairs of my building, to the man.
"Rick Grimes" Rick introduced himself, taking another glass off the bar and passing it to Tony.
"What about you, pal? Have one?" Dave addressed Hershel.
"I just quit." the slowly sobering Hershel answered.
"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend." Dave smiled.
"His name's Hershel." Rick sat on a barstool, just over the counter from Glenn. "He lost people today, a lot of 'em."
Dave's expression fell from it's —little too friendly— smile, into a more solemn downcast. "I'm truly sorry to hear that."
He raised his glass towards us. "To better days and new friends. And to our dead— ...may they be in a better place."
I watched him tap the bottom of the glass on the table before downing his shot, and the others following suit; minus the table tap.
Dave's eyes settled on me as he set his empty glass on the table. "And you? What's your name?"
I wonder how long he can stand silence...
I blankly stared him down, and not even 3 seconds in, he began to look to the others for explanation.
"That's Eve." Rick answered in my sted, turning slightly.
Go— dammit, Rick. You've ruined my analysis.
"She doesn't talk much." Glenn wrapped his knuckles on the bar in a knocking motion, sparing a glance at me; which I returned outta the corner of my eye.
"...Any, particular reason for that?" Dave treaded carefully.
Glenn and Hershel both looked at me, and I could see Rick's eyelashes in the sunlight from the side of his face, as he blinked.
It occurs to me, none of them actually know the answer to that. Only person I can recall ever telling, is Daryl.
I thought for a second, taking my new opportunity to stare Dave down, when Rick actually can't intervene.
He got uncomfortable fast(judging by his shift and foot tap), and reached across his table; forgoing the answer to his question. "You don't have to say. I get it. Some things are personal."
My hand grabbed the knife at my side as soon as I caught sight of a black handle in the back of his waistband.
Rick tensed as well, and Dave seemed to notice as he looked back.
"Not bad, huh?" he reached around and pulled the gun out by the barrel, showing it to us. If that motion had me get ready to throw my knife a moment's notice, that's my business.
Rick's tension dropped but mine didn't. The safety's not on.
"I got it off a cop." Dave looked at the standard issue 9 mill in his hand.
"I'm a cop." I noticed Rick's shoulders become unnaturally still; posture a little too settled for my peace of mind.
"This one was already dead." Dave flashed another charismatic smile and little alarms began to go off in the back of my head.
"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia." Rick took a sip of his drink.
"It feels like we're a long way from anywhere." Dave stretched, his voice a little louder than I'd like.
I glanced at the doorways of the room, watching for a moment, trying to listen over their talking.
"Well what drove you south?" Rick rested his glass on his knee.
"Well I can tell you it wasn't the weather." Dave rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "I must've dropped 30 lbs in sweat alone down here."
"Yeah, I wish." Tony interjected from the bar. I took notice of how his shotgun is balance on his thigh. Barrel down, but he could still bring that up quick if he had to.
"No, first it was D.C. heard there might be some kinda refugee camp, but the roads are so jammed we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing." Dave went on, explaining with the occasional hand gesture how they ended up down here.
That doesn't surprise me. When the outbreak happened, it was a mad scramble to get as far as you could, to wherever you thought it would be safest.
"One guy told us there was a coast guard sittin' down in the gulf, sendin' ferries to the islands." Tony spoke up.
That's not a bad idea actually. There would have to be extensive screenings for scratches, bites— probably a waiting period of a day or so too, to prevent accidentally letting in someone who's infected.
Assuming of course, the islands are already walker free. That would be a big area to keep under control too. It would need to be self-sustaining as well; its own food production, renewable water sources, fuel, power, etc. And the population it could handle would be severely limited.
"Latest was a railyard in Montgomery runnin' trains to the middle of the country— Kansas, Nebraska."
"Nebraska?" Glenn glanced at me, confused.
"Low population, lots of guns." Tony answered
"Kinda makes sense." Glenn nodded, directing his eyes to the bar by his hands, pulling a face.
"Ever been to Nebraska, kid?" Dave looked at him. "A reason they call 'em flyover states."
Tony laughed, but it wasn't more than a high pitched breathy whistle to be honest.
The kind you typically hear from people with a history of smoking, and judging by the smoke stashed over his ear, he's exactly that.
Rick took another sip of his drink but as he tilted his head back, I could see he found it humorous.
I glanced at Hershel who also had a small amused smile, and caught sight of Tony past him.
My eyes narrowed the slightest at the sly look he was sending Dave as he scratched the side of his head.
I glanced at his friend just as the man looked up from his lap, with another disarming smile, "How about you guys?"
"Fort Benning, eventually." Rick answered after a moment's hesitation, glancing between the two.
"I hate to piss in your cornflakes, Officer, but um...we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning." Dave motioned between himself and Tony. "Said the place was overrun by lamebrains."
"Wait, For Benning is gone? Are you for real?" Glenn looked between them, disbelief all but screaming from every inch of him.
"Sadly, I am." Dave nodded. "Ugly truth is, there is no way outta this mess." You're just figuring this out, now? "Just keep goin' from one pipe dream to the next, prayin' one a these mindless freaks doesn't grab ahold of ya when you sleep."
"If you sleep." Tony corrected.
"Yeah it doesn't look like you guys are hangin' yer hats here." Dave cast a quick glance at the door, and subsequently the rest of the room.
"You— you holed up somewhere else?"
A switch flipped in my head, as I zeroed in on him. It's the same switch that goes off on a first date and their already asking if your place is close by.
I've met people like him before. Charismatic, a little too friendly, ask a lot of invasive questions but make it sound like they're just havin' a friendly conversation.
Dave may be passable at disguising his intent, but Tony isn't.
He keeps glancing at Dave. He's been letting Dave do the talking since the moment they walked in, and judging by their interactions, Tony's not usually this quiet. I would know.
I can see his lips twitch or press into a tight line every so often; a tick only people who like the sound of their own voice have, when they're trying not to use it.
"Not really." Rick shook his head, and as soon as I heard the change of tone in his voice, I knew he's picked up on something too.
I don't know if it's the same things I have, but I imagine in Rick's previous line of work, smooth talkers were not uncommon.
I might live to see the day someone can smooth talk Rick, but today is not that day. From what I've seen, since I met this man, he's the king of that court. For one thing, he can talk Shane down, and Daryl more and more as of late.
"Those your cars out front?" Dave glanced over his shoulder. Why is that relevant? What is he looking for?
"Yeah. Why?" Glenn spoke before I could stop him.
"Well we're livin' outta ours. Those look uh...kinda empty, clean. Where's all your gear?" Dave rubbed his palms on his jeans.
"We're with a larger group. Out scouting, thought we could use a drink." Hershel answered; he still sounds sluggish though.
"A drink? Hershel I thought you quit." Dave made it sound joking, but he knows something's up. And the silence he was met with at that "joke", probably just confirmed it for him.
"Well, we're thinking of setting up around here. Is it— is it safe?"
"It can be, although I've uh..." Glenn hesitated mid-sentence, when both Rick and Hershel turned to look at him. "Killed a couple walkers round here."
"Walkers? That what you call 'em?" Dave looked at Rick, who turned his attention back to him, after taking the opportunity to glance at me.
That look, that's all I need, to know we're on the same page about these two.
"Yeah" Glenn chuckled.
I subtly tapped Glenn's leg with my foot, as soon as Dave's attention was elsewhere.
He looked at me and I carefully shook my head; not moving it more than an inch at most.
He glanced at Dave again, then back at me, something registering in his visage before he clamped his jaw and nodded.
"That's good. I like that. I like that better than lamebrains." Dave scratched his neck, pulling the back of shirt away from his neck.
"More succinct." Tony nodded.
"Okay, Tony went to college." Dave motioned to his friend.
"Two years." Tony sounded almost offended by that, and glanced at us.
I noticed Glenn's unnatural smile, bearing his teeth a little too much.
"So what, so what you guys set up on the outskirts or somethin? That new development?" Dave jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.
He's fishing. I watched his eyes roaming over our postures. He's looking for body language cues.
"Trailer park or somethin?" Tony stood up, heading straight across from his stool at the bar, to the wall. "Farm?"
"Old McDonald had a farm~" Dave absently sung, as he watched his friend.
These guys are not good at hiding their intent. Their skill is low-key ametur criminal at best, but even an amatuer is dangerous to someone who doesn't recognize what they're doing.
Rick has definitely pegged what's going on by now. Hershel looks like he's been around this block before, judging by his near-identical reaction with Rick just now.
I can't say for certain where I fall on this scale of experience without knowing Hershel and Rick's lives from before, but I've seen my fair share.
I grew up surrounded by budding con-artists, thieves, criminals of all natures. Hell— I was one of 'em for a time back then.
Glenn on the other hand. I'm sorry, Ace but you can barely lie without laughing, or having a nerves spasm.
You'd more likely fall for tricks like this because unlike me, or even Rick, you're trusting. You might be the only person in this room who was well-adjusted.
"You on a farm?" Dave looked at Rick.
Rick didn't answer but as soon as there was a pattering noise, we both looked over and my nose wrinkled in disgust at Tony taking a leak on the wall.
"Is it safe?" Tony asked.
"It's gotta be." Dave answered, leaning forward now; focusing his attention on Rick. "You got food, water?"
"You got cooze? I ain't had a piece a ass in weeks." Tony looked over his shoulder, directly at me, and I rolled my eyes; unable to keep the muscle in my face from twitching.
Glenn cleared his throat, nervously glancing at me.
"Listen, pardon my friend." Dave rubbed his eyes again; out of frustration this time. "City kids— they got no tact."
"No disrespect." Dave looked at me, and I saw the slight flinch in his arms as my eyes pierced his; his pressing into the chair a little bit
He's not entirely stupid.
"So listen, Glenn—"
"We've said enough." Rick cut Dave off.
Glenn shifted next to me, and I took the opportunity to huff and move down the bar; pretending to offended while I got the other side, where I have a clear line of sight to the both of these assholes.
"Well, hang on a second. This farm— it sounds pretty sweet. Don't it sound sweet, Tony?" Dave didn't even notice my moving.
"Yeah, real sweet." Tony answered, finishing up his business and turned around. He's got that nice shotgun over his shoulder by the strap. He can't pull that before I take him down.
"How about a little southern hospitality?" Dave's attention is focused on Rick. "We got some buddies back at camp, been havin' a real hard time."
"I don't see why you can't make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower." He's getting desperate.
That would be a nice offer, actually. If it were sincere. Having more bodies to help out isn't a bad thing, but even if this was a real thing, I wouldn't be okay with letting just anyone join our group.
"Look, I'm sorry. That's not an option." Rick flat out refused.
That took the both of them by surprise. The look on Tony's face says it all, as he looked to Dave, and Dave glanced at his fingers; they didn't expect us not to bite.
"Doesn't sound like it'd be a problem." Dave tried again.
"I'm sorry. We can't." Hershel spoke up. He sounds a little more sober now, but not as much as I'd like.
"We can't take in any more." Rick stood his ground.
Dave chuckled, rubbing his temple with his forefinger. "You guys are somethin' else."
"I thought— I thought we were friends." He's running out of options; I recognize that scramble. "We got people we gotta look out for too."
"We don't know anything about you." Rick shrugged.
"No, that's true." Dave shifted in his chair. "You don't know anything about us."
Dave's eyes locked on Rick. "You don't know what we've had to go through out there. The things we've had to do."
Is that a threat. My hand crept around to my gun, carefully turning the safety off.
"I bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right?" he eyed Rick, and while his tone wasn't aggressive, the hardest to his features reminds me all too much of a certain off-the-rails cop back at camp.
Rick remained silent, but I can see his set jaw from here.
"Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world." Dave continued. "We're all the same."
Whether our hands are clean or not, we are not the same.
"So come on, let's— let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other." You really don't give up do you?
If these two knew what was good for them, they'd walk away, right now.
Rick moved his arm out, wide; almost like a shrug but in the form of a gesture. "That's not gonna happen."
"Rick—" Dave started but was cut off by Tony.
"This is bullshit."
"Calm down." Rick
"Don't tell me to calm down. Don't eva tell me to calm down."
"Whoa" Glenn tried
"I'll shoot you 4 assholes and take your damn farm!"
I pulled my gun, but stopped myself from raising it as Rick stood, moving into my line of sight from Tony. I don't think he meant to but it still happened and I lowered the barrel below the bar before it could be noticed.
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa." Dave jumped up, defusing the situation before it escalated further. "Relax."
"Take it easy. Nobody's killin' anybody." Dave clapped Rick's shoulder in a friendly manner, but Rick still looked at him as he came towards me.
I moved like a repelled magnet to the corner of the bend, as Dave climbed over the bar.
I saw Tony grab his gun behind him, and Rick heard it too from his stance as he stopped moving to keep his eyes on Dave.
"Look." Dave put his out, taking his gun and didn't realise I was already aiming at him from over here where Tony can't see me, as he carefully set his gun on the bar.
"We're just friends havin' a drink. That's all."
To some that might look like a gesture of good will, but I can't help but notice the barrel is pointed towards Rick; at an easy to grab angle.
If he's willing to do that, he must be confident in his ability to grab and shoot before Rick can.
Too bad he's forgotten to look to his right.
"Now" Dave held his arms wide. "Where's the good stuff, huh?"
"Good stuff, good stuff, good stuff. Let's see." He ducked his head below the bar, and I saw the shotgun under the counter.
However when I saw Dave reaching for it, I tapped my foot on the wooden floor and his eyes flickered to me from below the counter.
The flicker of fear I saw surge through his eyes, tensing every muscle in his body, hardened my steeling glare.
He slowly grabbed the bottle next to the gun, instead. His eyes turned to Rick, as Rick's hand was on his own gun, before he pulled the bottle up from behind the counter.
"Ey, look at that." Dave held the bottle up with a smile. "That'll work."
He inhaled deeply, grabbing a few glasses from the top of the counter. "You gotta understand— we can't stay out there. You know what It's like."
I glanced at Tony behind Rick, who still has his hand on his gun and my gut stirred me to move.
Rick's got Dave covered, I've seen how fast he can pull that piece and I'd be hard pressed to see Dave outdraw him. But I don't like the look of Tony at his back.
"Yeah, I do." Rick nodded. "But the farm is too crowded as is. I'm sorry. You'll have to keep looking."
"Keep looking. Where do you suggest we do that?" Dave shifted, resting both hands on the countertop.
I crept past Glenn, careful to be slow and smooth in my movements so I didn't draw attention to myself.
Thankfully Tony's like Merle, and his attention is fixed on Rick. I know exactly how to go unnoticed by people like him.
I reached the end of the bar getting a direct line of sight, without being noticed.
"I don't know." Rick shook his head, shrugging. "I hear Nebraska's nice."
Dave laughed but there was an undertone of malice as he shifted. "Nebraska. This guy."
I heard the shot without seeing who shot first, but before Tony could react, I put one round in the soft tissue of his side; right where his kidney should be.
He fell backwards into the wall, shotgun going off into the ceiling before I saw another shot go through his chest.
Tony sank to the floor and Rick stepped towards him, putting one final round in his forehead.
I glanced around, just noticing how dark it's gotten.
I moved towards Rick, to see better in the dark and looked over everyone, making sure they're alright. Glenn and Hershel both look startled as Hell, but unharmed.
I noticed blood splatter on the mirror/wall behind the bar where Dave had been, but looked back when Tony's body sank to the floor; hand landing in his own piss.
I get why Rick shot him again, even after I already did. But when Tony was already down… that was overkill. And that's one Hell of a slippery slope you're walkin' right there, Officer.