GUYS! Guys! Guys. So, appearently, my distraction story 'What is This?' is still super popular despite the fact that I haven't finished chapter 2 yet (it is after all a distraction fic so updates are bound to be slow). I feel like I found the fanfiction society right about now with how my alerts keep going off for my email. It's so bad it's over running my own story update alerts right now. lol I have to scroll now to find my favved stories. Strangely, I find it entertaining.
Anyways, I got 2 chapter updates coming in here. Apparently, I use the word Nearby a lot and each time I spelled it wrong. . _. That was strange. Just an FYI, I do write my stories on my phone then transfer them over onto the computer. If Fanfiction would just allow me to update through moble the stories would come in as soon as I finish them. It's both an annoying process but at the same time useful as my phone application doesn't correct nearly as much as the word application. Weird because its the same thing, just one is an app on my phone and the other is an app on my laptop.
~Loner
The little girl under the umbrella hummed lightly as she put one foot in front of the other along the low wall she was balancing on. The heel of one foot hit the toes of the stationed foot as it moved forward. So far, the apocalypse was boring. Sure, every now and then she would have to dodge a set of teeth, maybe run her blade through a few heads, but, after a while, the mind numbing panic wore off and boredom set in.
What was the point of living at this point? She wondered. If she could, she would go back in time to take back all those thoughts about how bored she was before the world went bleak. At least then, she was able to go to the theater. Now, all she had was herself to keep her mind entertained. Sometimes, she would just sit for hours under her umbrella, pretending the life going on in front of her was just one long movie.
This was not how she envisioned her life going at 16. At the very least, she was hoping to have been able to get a taste of what it was like to be a normal teenager. She had dreams back in the real world when society was at its best. Things like figuring out what 'spring time love' was and how much it hurts to have your heart broken. Normal things teenage girls use to gossip about in the school bathroom when skipping class. She wanted to know all about it from firsthand experience. Most of all though, she wanted to live to be 100 years old. She had wanted to stare at her grandchildren and say "back in my day….", like her dinosaur of a grandma did when the woman was alive.
No. Instead, she had this grand old mission of finding her younger brother, who could be anywhere at this point or nowhere at all. It sucked. Life wasn't supposed to be like this. Was this life? She didn't think so.
And now, the girl stopped, foot hanging in the air in front of her, "I'm talking myself in circles." The girl sighed, crouching down to sit on the low wall. "Would be nice to have someone here with me."
Companionship. The girl adjusted the umbrella to block out the sun's rays. It wasn't something she had known she had needed. She supposed as she stared out at the empty world on the other side of the wall, when you were surrounded by living breathing people, you were never truly alone, so you never notice how lonely you actually feel.
The girl sat there, listlessly humming as she watched the world of nothing around her. A strange feeling taking a hold of her as she watched the leaves in the trees dance in the wind. Loneliness… lack of friendship and companionship. Loneliness can lead to depression and suicidal thoughts, especially in teens.
"Pull the trigger," Rick dared.
Daryl frowned, eyes flickering from T-dog to Glenn. If he had really wanted to kill T-dog he would have already. Then, his blue eyes settled back on T-dog, staring hard, taking in the man's frightened features. After a few moments of silence, Daryl let the crossbow dip downwards. "Fine," he conceded to Rick's silent demands. He had other things to worry about.
Rick waited until the crossbow was fully lowered before pulling his revolver away from Daryl head. "Good." Rick ran a shaking hand his dark hair. "Now," Rick paused to survey the kid, turning back to his investigation of the scene around them when he decided the threat was over, "considering the lack of body, it's obvious your brother made it, at least, to the ladder. From there, I have no idea where he may have gone."
Daryl snorted, relieved that Rick had let the matter go so easily. Pushing his crossbow further back, Daryl leaned over the side of the roof, looking first at the ladder hanging to the side of the building then further down to the ground. "There," he said, pointing down at the walker body splattered on the ground, "'Nother body."
Rick leaned over the side, quietly gulping at the distance from the ground. Did he happen to mention how frightened he was at heights? No?
Glenn being Glenn leaned over the side too and let out a long whistle. "Damn, that's a long way to the ground. Just one body, though," he observed.
Rick clenched his fist against the brick wall. He could do this, he thought as he let his eyes lower once again to the ground. When had he raised them?
Daryl took in the scene down below, arm dropping to his side. "He's right." Then, he turned his attention to the nearby rooftops, searching for any evidence of his brother. Finding another Walker's body on the roof straight in front, Daryl subconsciously elbowed Rick. "There," Daryl pointed out.
Startled, Rick followed Daryl's finger to the nearby rooftop. How in the hell did Merle end up over there? He wondered, glancing down at the ladder. That was when he noticed the emergency ladder didn't go all the way to the ground.
"Do you think he jumped?" T-dog asked as he eyed the distance from the roof they were on to the other roof.
"Maybe," Glenn said, "Would be a bit of a stretch, though. This alleyway is a bit… wide."
"Maybe he swung over?" Rick asked eying the rusted tourniquets on the ladder. "He might not have noticed the ladder was rusted over when he went over the side, until it was too late."
"An' by then, tha walker would hav' been on 'im," Daryl finished for Rick. He reached over and patted Rick's shoulder in excitement, turning away from the edge to look around the rooftop again.
"What are you doing?" T-dog asked as he watched the kid move around the area.
"Looking for a way to get us over there." Daryl absently answered as he walked around, eyes scanning the items left on the ground.
Glenn's shifted through what he knew of the area. "There's a construction area on one of the roof tops behind us." He pointed to the back of the building, which was in front of them now that they have turned away from the emergency ladder. "Maybe they have something we could use."
Daryl's face lit up with the idea, while Rick's expression sank with realization. "Good idea, China man!" even in this situation, Daryl remembered to throw in an insult as he leapt over the pipe blocking his way to the other side of the roof.
"I'm Korean, damn it," Glenn muttered darkly to himself as he followed after the kid a few years younger than he was. One day, Glenn was going to gather the courage to correct him. Just not right now. As far as insults go, though, Daryl's was pretty light. Judging by Daryl's tone when he spoke, the kid hadn't mean it as one either. Glenn figured it was just an observation mixed ignorance. He could just ask, Glenn thought in exasperation.
Rick and T-dog followed Daryl and Glenn to the other side of the building, completely oblivious to Glenn's muttering just like Daryl, who was so focused on the task at hand that he forgot, for the moment, that Glenn existed. The four gathered on the other side of the building overlooking the smaller rooftop on the other side. The alleyway on this side was smaller than the one they were just moments ago overlooking but just as scary for Rick, who naturally couldn't avoid looking down with how low the next roof was.
Glenn pointed to the construction site he remembered seeing when he was out saving Rick. "Think that ladder would work?" He remembered using a ladder before to get Rick across an alleyway.
Daryl let his eyes slide over the supplies on the other side taking in what was available. "Looks long enough," he agreed.
T-dog pointed farther out. "There's some rope as well."
Daryl followed T-dog's finger to the pile of rope laying on the ground a few feet away from the site. "It's a li'l far out," he pointed out, "Won't know if it's useful until we look at it."
"That's great and all," Rick said, "but how are we going to get over there?" Please, don't say we are jumping down, Rick prayed, Please, don't say jump.
Glenn looked over at Rick with an evil grin.
Please, don't say it.
"Why, we're," Glenn pointed at himself then at Daryl, "going to jump down."
Damn it.
"Unless Daryl has other ideas?" Glenn glanced at the kid next to him.
Daryl shook his head; no. "Seems like a good 'nough plan to me."
"Okay," Glenn clapped his hands to get everyone's attention, "You two," he pointed at Rick and T-dog, "stay here, so we have someone here to help us," here, Glenn pointed towards Daryl and himself, "get the things we need from there," he pointed to the construction site, "to here." Glenn let his hand fall back to his side. "Got it?" Glenn watched the other four men nod to his plan.
Aiden sighed as Terry plopped down on the old couch in front of his desk, already bringing a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. He knew there weren't really two Terrys in his office; he was just exhausted. However, just the idea of it still gave him a headache.
Moments later, Jefferson and Merle had made their way into the office. Jefferson closing the door after everyone was through.
"Ya look like shit," Merle complement as he took the other end of the old couch.
"I feel like shit," Aiden grumbled out with another sigh. "But I doubt you followed these two idiots" he waved in the general direction of Jefferson and Terry, "for the conversation." Letting his hand fall to the desk, Aiden looked up at Merle.
"Yer right." Merle leaned back into the couch, meeting Aiden's eyes steadily. "I wa't ta get muh brother."
Aiden stayed quiet, neither confirming nor denying Merle's hidden request. The man didn't just want to go get his brother. He wanted Aiden to help him go get his brother. As much as Aiden wanted to have Daryl within eyesight at the very least, from what Intel they had gathered, it was impossible at the moment.
Terry tilted his head in confusion. "You know that wouldn't be advisable," the blonde said in response to Merle's inquiry. "I'm all for the damsel in distress storyline, but, currently…" Terry paused, trying to think of a gentle way to put it, "it's not foreseeable." He decided.
"And why the hell not?!" Merle snapped at the man. Was he supposed to just leave his brother out there? Away from his protection and in the hands of those idiots?
Jefferson leaned on the wall next to the door as he watched the others argue. Not many people knew Terry had this side to him, a callous realistic side. The man came off as an overgrown child, but Terry was an adult who made adult decisions.
Terry sighed exaggeratingly. "Weren't you listening to the radio at all when you were in that room?" he asked, tone taking on a bitter tint to it. "We ourselves may be in danger of being overrun right now. If we go out, there might not be anything to come back to."
"What I heard was a bunch of cowards giving off useless information," Merle lied. Actually, he hadn't been conscious long enough to hear the whole report playing over the radio. Sometime during the sound off, Merle's conscious had drifted away, giving into the fatigue and dehydration.
Aiden narrowed his eyes at Merle. "Useless information?" he hissed out. Useless?! "That 'useless information' saved lives today. Your's being one of them." Aiden felt insulted. The first rule of any war was to gather information. Nothing could be done without it. Merle of all people should know that.
"Perhaps," Jefferson cut in, Pushing off the wall, "we should show him?"
Aiden pushed his tired body up from his chair with a nod of agreement. It was better to show none believers then it was to explain. He ignored Merle's of 'show me what?' as he rounded the desk heading to the door.
"Tammy," Aiden called out as he exited the office and made his way slowly down the stairs.
"S'up boss?" the woman called back, head jerking up to look in Aiden's direction.
"Bring four plates to the communications office." Aiden tried to request of her but even to his own ears it sounded like a demand.
"'ight," Tammy replied, already getting up from the table she was at with her circle of friends. So much for a break, she thought sadly. "Anything in particular?"
"No." Aiden wasn't picky, as long as it was substance for his empty stomach.
Terry, though, piped in from behind the others, "I want Cheetos." He wasn't sure why. He just had a strange craving for them ever since his girlfriend said she lost the last bag in a bet. "Preferably the stale hot Cheetos kind."
Jefferson reached out and smacked Terry on the back of the head, earning himself an 'owie' from the man. "You can't handle the hot Cheetos."
Terry scowled at Jefferson as he rubbed his head. "It's not for me. It's for Jenny. She loves them more than me, I swear."
Tammy giggled at the two. "I'll see what I can do for you Terry." Then, she turned to go into the kitchen.
"Thank you!" Terry yelled at her back as the door closed behind her.
The walk to the communications building was quiet outside of Terry and Jefferson's bickering over nothing and anything. Aiden was walking in a daze, body running on autopilot due to his exhaustion, and Merle spent the time looking around, amazed by the number of people running about. It was sunny out after the small rain fall from the day before, making the air extra humid and hot. A gentle breeze flowed over the group wiping up stray hairs, which tickled Aiden's nose.
Aiden sneezed. "I'm awake. I swear." Then, he blinked, half confused as he looked around. "Wait." Aiden paused, going over the last few minutes in his mind again. "Oh. Yeah. Right." Aiden ignored Terry's laughter as he continued on towards the communications building, glad that it wasn't too far.
Jefferson elbowed Terry in the side, throwing a worried glance at Aiden. Terry nodded but couldn't find it in himself to wipe the grin off his face. What? It was hilarious. Sleep deprived Aiden was the best entertainment so far.
Merle, who watched the scene play out with wide eyes, couldn't help but ask, "When was the last time you slept?"
Aiden sniffled and rubbed his nose, angrily batting long bangs out of his face. "This morning."
"I think," Jefferson started, "he meant longer than an hour."
"Oh," was all Aiden said before the group made it to a warehouse with the letter 'C' sloppily painted on the side. "We're here," he said tiredly.
Terry patted Merle's shoulder as he passed by the man on his way into the building. "That's Aiden talk for about a month ago."
Inside the building it was noisy. People were running to and from all over, while several different types of radios sat playing upon the surface of anything flat. A few people stood by some of the older radios adjusting the knobs when the signal started to fail. On one table in the very back, an old fm radio sat playing music quietly while some people sat drinking out of old mugs and seemingly random cups as the conversed quietly with each other.
Suddenly, a loud female was throwing open the office door, shouting down below, "Turn it down! We are live in 5!" The woman, not waiting to make sure the order was followed through, slammed the door shut again. All was quiet for a few moments as everyone digested the order. Then, a flurry of motion set off the others as they rushed to turn down whatever radio they were working with.
"That was Jill," Terry helpfully explained to Merle. "She and her brother run the communications department."
Merle grunted. Not that he has asked, nor did he care, but he supposed the sentiment was nice. "Where is this thing I'm supposed to be seeing?"
"Upstairs." Aiden led the way towards the stairs.
Finally, after much fumbling to get the conversation sites ladder stretched and act like a bridge from one roof top to another, the four stood around one end overlooking their handy work. Daryl, Glenn, T-dog, and Rick, although covered in sweat from the excursion, felt a strange sense of gratification of a job well done. The task had been strenuous, T-dog, in particular, knew he was going to be feeling muscles he didn't know he had when this was all over, but there was just something about finishing a seemingly impossible task that just caused this pride to swell within them. In some insane stroke of luck, they made it happen, they thought. They as in all four of them. How? They weren't sure, but it hasn't been easy. Alone, none of them were sure it would have happen, to be honest.
"Well," Rick said, breaking the moment, "who wants to test it?" the ex-cop stood to the side of the group with his hands on his hips in what Daryl would have called 'the classic cop stance.' Though, without the belt officers normally wore, Rick just looked a bit, to Glenn, like Glenn's mother when she was anchoring herself down for a long rant.
T-dog eyed the bridge ladder. "Are we sure it's safe?"
Daryl, being the youngest, by a few months, jumped up onto the low wall surrounding the rooftop. "Only un' way ta know." Then, adjusting the crossbow on his back for better balance, Daryl stepped on to the ladder. The bridge ladder shifted under his weight just enough to tilt. That was to be expected. It was a well-used ladder. It was bound to have some warps in the metal. Daryl, quickly, moved both feet onto the ladder to even out the weight.
Dispute himself, Glenn clenched his fist at the sudden fear that coursed through his veins. "Be careful," he breathed out, the pitch in time an octave higher than normal. Glenn cursed his imagination for being so active at times like this. Right now, his mind seemed to be playing out a million different scenarios on how this plan could fail. All of them ending with Daryl falling to his death for illogical reasons. In one of the scenarios, a bird comes and lands on Daryl's head causing the kid to fall due to shock.
Daryl scowled. What did Glenn think he was trying to do? Contrary to popular belief, he did not have a death wish. "If yer so God damn worried, hold the damn ladder." It was the only appropriate response in this situation in Daryl's mind.
"Good luck," T-dog prayed for the kid. "You're going to need it."
Daryl turned forward, keeping his eyes on the destination. He didn't need luck. There was no such thing as luck. Just belief. He believed he was going to make it, therefore he was. Mind over matter, as Ace would sometimes say. Granted the man had been talking about pain at the time, but the saying still applied. One goal, Daryl chanted to himself, one goal. One outcome. Nothing else mattered in his book.
Daryl took a deep breath, holding it for the count of three, and then released it out his nose. One goal. His blue eyes narrowed in on the end of the ladder. Get to the end. Then, Daryl was stepping forward, carefully at first, testing the ladder's reaction to his movements and adjusting his stride accordingly. Once he was sure he had the balance down Daryl didn't give himself time to second guess himself, he just took off, half running to the finish line. The whole time, Daryl kept his eyes on the approaching end of the ladder, steadily refusing to look anywhere else. His goal was to get to that side, nothing else mattered.
The others cheered in relief when Daryl jumped down on the other side of the bridge they had created. It worked. Surprisingly, it had worked.
Daryl rolled his eyes at the three idiots on the other side. At this rate, they were ringing the dinner bell for every Walker in the immediate vicinity, their cheers were that loud. Pulling his crossbow from his back, Daryl took a second to reload it, having unstrung the previous arrow as a safety precaution when he decided to cross the makeshift bridge (the last thing he wanted was to accidentally jar the trigger knocking himself down to his immediate death with the recoil or worse: lose a perfectly good arrow). Daryl lifted the crossbow to his shoulder, ready to shoot the first thing that groaned at him, and turned to check the immediate area for threats.
Glenn, T-dog, and Rick waited on the other side, watching Daryl move around the area. The kid walked in a half crouch, crossbow up even with his eyesight as he slowly checked behind objects and machinery they couldn't see around from their current position.
When he checked all possible points of surprise attacks, Daryl stood, letting his crossbow fall again to his side. "Clear!" he called out to the others as he walked back to the ladder on his side.
"Okay," Rick nodded in acknowledgement. Turning to T-dog and Glenn, Rick begin planning. "T-dog, you go next to provide support on the other end. Glenn, you will go next. Then, I will follow up last once everyone is safely across."
"I think," T-dog started, shakenly glancing down at the alleyway on the other side of the low wall, "I should go last." Because, he just knew he was going to freeze up halfway. His mind wasn't convinced it was safe. Daryl, compared to him, was smaller in stature than T-dog. Somehow, he could just see the ladder breaking under his weight.
Rick, sympathetic to T-dog's internal turmoil, took a few steps forward and, what he hoped, was a comforting hand on the big man's shoulder. "Look, I don't like it anymore then you do," Probably less then you, Rick thought but didn't say. By nature, Rick wasn't as courageous as he liked to show he was. "but, you're the strongest one out of us all, so we will need you to hold down the ladder on the other side."
"What about you?" Glenn asked Rick, face twisted in disbelief.
"I'm going to hold it down on this side."
T-dog lit up, taking off with the idea. "I can do that! You just said it yourself; I am the strongest of us."
Rick gave T-dog's shoulder a squeeze. "And if the Walker's barge through the door, you will be left here to defend on your own." He let his hand slide from T-dog's shoulder. "Would you be able to do that?"
The statement was a low blow for T-dog, he knew. He was taking advantage of T-dog's cowardly ways with a million to 1 situation.
T-dog scrunched up his nose at that thought. His eyes shifted to the (still) open door to the building roof to the Ladder Bridge, then back to the door. "Okay," he conceited to Rick's suggest, "okay, but, if I fall, I'm blaming you." T-dog poked, more like jabbed with his finger, Rick in the chest and crawled into the low wall.
Rick rubbed his chest where T-dog jabbed him, trying to soothe the feeling of the man's jagged nails pressing into his skin. "Noted." He grinned well naturally. "Now go before Daryl starts shooting at us for taking too long."
T-dog laughed awkwardly, silently hoping Rick was joking. It sounded like something Daryl would do.
Inside the communications warehouse's office was, what Jill and Timothy would call organized, mess. In the middle of the small room was a table with a map spread out with shaking red lines and blue dotted buildings in the red lines. The original map that Aiden had been using since the bombing of Atlanta was covered in children toys in seemingly random locations. Toy soldiers had been set up since the last time Aiden had seen the map: Green guys for the good guys; gray for the bad guys. Along with the added soldiers, Jill and Timothy had set up 'Sorry' pieces and poker chips in random locations, some pieces closer to each other than others. All in all, the map looked like a hot mess to anyone who didn't know what each piece meant.
Along the side of the walls, old technology congregated along the scavenged surfaces from the warehouse the group could find. Huge monitors, bulky keyboards, ugly processing units, century old microphones and a mouse missing a wheel in the middle; all plugged into a dusty outlet that ran off a decade old generator held together by duct tape outside. In front of which sat Timothy pressing the stop bottom on an dinosaur old recording machine originally meant for recording voicemails.
To Merle, it was like he had step into an old, really old, magazine on the science of today found in a small government owned clinic. "Tha hell?"
Timothy immediately shushed him as Jill ignored the uninvited guests and started with her report of the days latest finds.
Terry leaned closer to Merle, whispering in the man's ear, "You make due with what you have available," before leaning away to avoid Merle's natural swipe at his face. Merle clearly didn't appreciate other people invading his space.
Aiden ignored the two and went to stand over the map next to Jill, listening to the woman read off the latest developments in the city. The gray soldiers, Aiden noticed, closest seemed to be facing away from the broken fishbowl castle set up to represent his base of operations, meaning they were going away from them. However, in the lower end of the map, closer to the middle of the city and near one of the 'Sorry' pieces, there was a group of green guys. Four of them. That must be the group of survivors Daryl brought in. There wasn't any gray soldiers nearby, but that didn't mean they were safe. The soldiers only represent a large group of Dead, not individual dead bodies walking.
"Here," Aiden pointed to an area of the map where the gray soldiers seem to be funneling to when the others joined him, "This is where they are going." Just for the hell of it, Aiden pushed lightly on the car shaped Monopoly piece, making it follow the line representing the highway out of the city.
"T'at's the direction the camp is located." Merle stated lowly. The map didn't cover the nearby woods as that wasn't within Aiden's base of operations. Outside the city, Aiden had little to no information. What little information he did have was usually expired by the time it made its way back to him. "It's a rest stop a few miles out. Along the freeway leading into the city," the man clarified further.
Aiden nodded and looked at Jill, who was giving the play-by-play of the map emotionlessly. The woman nodded minutely at Aiden's glance signifying her understanding of the situation. Then, with a few hand gestures at her brother, Timothy was up and out the door.
"Where's he going?" Merle asked Aiden, voice so low Aiden almost had to lean in to hear it in his tired state.
"To see if they got a more detailed map downstairs."
Just as Jill let off the button to the mic after her rather long winded speech and picked up the glass of water sitting on the desk nearby, Timothy came back, unfolding what looked to be a pamphlet often found in a gas station. "This is the only one we could find of the area." Timothy refolded the map, this time around the portion of the map Merle had pointed out, and placed it on the table in front of Aiden, careful of the original map and it's pieces. "Here is where we presume the area to be." The man pointed to an area alongside the freeway, surround in trees and between the blue blob representing a nearby lake.
Aiden rubbed his chin in thought. "Not a bad spot," he commented absently. "There's at least water nearby so they won't die of dehydration." The short man traced the printed jagged line next to the body of water. "And a cliffs edge providing natural protection on this side of the camp." Though, strategically, he would have preferred the group to be on the ledge for the view point it offered, he knew logically the group wouldn't have been able to defend it. The group was probably a mix of useless and random people who'd never held a weapon in their lives.
"The women in the group," Merle, feeling Aiden's silent judgement, tried to explain the groups situation, "wanted ta be near the restrooms."
Aiden rolled his eyes at the explanation. "O' course, they did." The man pressed down on the map, flattening it further to the table, and placed a red 'Sorry' piece in the area Timothy pointed out, marking it as important. "Never understand why woman can't just piss in the bushes."
This time Jill and Timothy rolled their eyes as one. "You wouldn't understand, Aiden," Jill said with that tone all women get when they were tired of explaining things to the male race. Women just didn't work like men. Their brains and bodies were wired differently. Sure, there were some exceptions to the rules based off situation and past experiences, but every woman was the same in their underlined programing. That was why people called it 'basic' when they felt the need to point the actions out.
Aiden swept his hand in Jill's direction along the surface of the table, like he was sweeping the comment away from him. "Whatever. Anyways," Aiden turned towards the bigger map of the city, "assuming Darlina is in the city with these," here, Aiden pointed to the group of four green soldiers in their safe
zone, "idiot survivors," then he quietly muttered, "ironic because that might have saved their lives," and continued on like he hadn't been muttering to himself, "then, he should have gotten the phone by now."
"How do you know they made it?" Merle asked, eyeing the small group of soldiers in the blue spotted box.
Aiden scratched his head. "Well, currently, we don't. This is just a roundabout estimation of where they were last spotted making a ruckus." He let his hand drop to his side. "But, based off what I know of Daryl, he would have made it there."
"Plus," Terry piped up off to the side, "we left the radio going on the local trade station. There's always chatter going on about trade deals on that channel." At Aiden's stare, Terry chuckled sheepishly. "What? There is. Besides, isn't that how ol' Merle here found the area?"
The short man scowled at the man but didn't say anything on the topic. "Anything else I should know?"
Terry shook his head: no, while Jefferson nodded: yes, in the background over Terry's shoulder. The blonde, as if knowing Jefferson was setting him up, subconsciously, reached out behind his back and pushed Jefferson as best as he could in hopes of getting the man out of Aiden's eyesight. Jefferson dodged the hand coming his way with a "what the hell did I do."
Aiden growled at the two idiots. Why did he keep them around again? At this point, Aiden was sure it was Sherlock syndrome. Was it called Sherlock syndrome? He couldn't remember. Maybe? Either way, they were holding him against his will with their presence and he had grown use to it over time. "What did you idiots do this time?" because, with Terry in particular, there wasn't something they didn't do when he wasn't looking.
Merle for whatever reason was the one to speak up. "That one," the man pointed at the blonde, "ran 'round like an idiot sticking stupid things ta the walls."
Aiden blinked. What? "Do I…" despite himself, Aiden hesitated, "want to know why?" Then, after a few seconds, the man added, "Or of what?"
Terry shrugged. "Nothing much." Terry and Jefferson glanced at each other with a secret grin. "Just stick figures mostly." The duo let out snicker like giggles, not even bothering to hide their amusement, already imagining Daryl's group of confused faces when they came up on the sticky notes. Most of them had stick figures on them, yes, but those stick figures were drawn in depiction common sex positions.
"Anyway," Jefferson started after getting his giggles under control, "not all of them," he giggled again, trying and failing to get Daryl's exaggerated eye roll out of his head, "not all of them were stick figures." Terry wasn't helping with his quiet, "I wish I was there to see their faces," on the other side of him.
"It wasn't t'at funny." Merle's frown didn't even twitch in hint of a smile. He found the whole experience insulting really as the two idiots took the time to add the names 'Darlina' and 'Ace' with arrows pointing to who they thought would be in which part of the position. Thinking back on it, he should have pulled them down, but at the time he was too worried they would be ambushed, even though Terry and Jefferson kept telling him to relax.
Aiden brought up his hand, palming his sweat drenched forehead. However, before he could wrap his mind around what was going on, there was a knock on the door. Tammy had arrived with the food.
Daryl stared at the small paper stuck to the door, half frozen, half embarrassed. It took him a moment for his mind to process what was written on the note, nestled into the edges of the window frame.
"Who's Darlina?" he heard Glenn ask behind him.
Daryl scowled, ripping down the note with his and Ace's names on it. "No one," he growled out, angrily. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, but he just knew Ace's dumbass friends- "Companions," that voice, that sounded suspiciously like his lover, in the back of his mind corrected- had something to do with this.
T-dog leaned into Glenn, whispering in the Korean's ear, "Somehow, I don't think it's 'no one.'"
Glenn nodded in agreement. 'Darlina' and this 'Ace' seemed to be a sore spot for Daryl, judging by the kids actions. "Ex-girlfriend, you think?" He seemed to remember Merle throwing the name around as an insult, but, for the life of him, he couldn't remember the reason. He knew it was an insult, though, from the tone Merle always used.
T-dog paused mid-nod, then adopted a thinking face. "Come to think about it. Didn't Merle call Daryl that every now and then?"
Rick, who was at the back of the group bring up the end, gun pulled in case a Walker appeared, hissed quietly, "What are you doing? Hurry up and go in."
"What if there's someone inside?" T-dog whispered back to Rick.
Daryl, meanwhile, had already opened the door, crossbow in hand. Turning his head towards T-dog with hard eyes, like he was looking at an idiot, Daryl tonelessly said, "There's not." The 'obviously' was left off, but the sarcasm in the statement made it clear.
T-dog and Glenn stared back at Daryl blankly, marveling at the kids bravery. To just open the door when they all could hear the low murmur of voices on the other side, Daryl was either very brave or very stupid. "How did you know no one was inside?"
Daryl rolled his eyes and walked into the room. "The voices were different."
Being the first in the room, Daryl's eyes took it in. The room had at, one point, been a break room. Along one side of the room were countertops, cabinets and a fridge that undoubtedly didn't work anymore now that the world had gone to shit. On top of the counters sat a microwave, built in sink and an odd radio that belonged to a big rig attached to a car battery. The light on the truck's radio was lit up, giving indication to where the voices were coming from. Next to the radio sat a bulky brick of metal, and upon closer observation, phone with a yellow stick-it note in the same writing as the note on the door.
'Call for a good time. *1
(a heart)
PS. We stole Merle.'
Daryl snatch the note up, immediately crumpling it into a ball. He didn't throwing it away, though. Instead, he shoved the small balled up paper into his pocket and picked up the phone. He took a minute to debate with himself. Call the number: have his suspicion confirmed. Don't call dial: never find out where his brother was.
Rick walked into the break room, taking in the used cot on the opposite side of the room first. Then, noted the small trashcan filled with wrappers beside the table under the window overlooking the city. Someone was here recently. Perhaps, Merle? He wondered as his eyes slide over to where Daryl stood in front of the counters. His eyes stopped, subconsciously, taking in the red spray painted letters spelling out 'Safe Zone' and the blue set of numbers in a different style written hurriedly underneath '83b,' like it was written last minute on the way out the door by a different person.
"What's that?" T-dog asked, indicating to the object in Daryl's hands. The kid stood there lost in thought as he was complicating on life.
Making a decision, Daryl shushed the man and followed the short instructions on the note, putting the brick to his ear. Daryl turned away from the prying eyes of the others in the room, listening to the dull ring back tone as the connection bounce from satellite to the other phones location. It sounded a bit like making a Skype call, he thought idly as he waited to the other end to pick up.
"I was wondering when you would find it," the familiar voice on the other end picked up, "Darlina."
The voice sounded tired, a little rougher then it use to be, but Daryl would never mistake it for anyone else's. "Ace."
Behind him, Rick gasped in shock as the familiar name- nickname? – registered in his brain.