They'd travelled East. There was no reason for that direction. They'd just picked it a long time ago.
Their numbers dwindled as time went on. They sometimes found new people but it seemed large communities were more common- that was how people were surviving. And they avoided them. Too many bad experiences to risk it again.
They settled. Found a beautiful old building. They made it a place to live. And they lived. For the first time in a long time, they were able to have something normal, something that felt safe.
He went out hunting. Had got up early to make the most of the day. To catch as much as he could. He didn't get anything big, but he got a good haul. He'd found an old wheelbarrow some time ago and he used to wheel it into the woods with him, hide it out there to being back his kills. He remembered it was Maggie who had suggested it after he'd struggled dragging a deer carcass back one time. He'd scoffed at the idea at first until he realised that no one would think any differently of him if he used it or not. So he used it.
When he got back that day, he had been thinking that he should take the time to thank Maggie for bringing it back for him, when he'd dismissed it.
It was the quiet that made him realise something was wrong and he stopped pushing the wheelbarrow and just walked towards their home.
And there was nothing there. Just a building. Items they used everyday were scattered about, as though they'd been in use. Baskets they used to gather up the vegetables they grew were left strewn across the he walked up the steps to the house, he kicked a knife and is slid a little against the concrete. There was no blood on it. It was just there.
He found casings from bullets. A few drops of blood here and there but nothing that showed a violent struggle. Things were just left, not destroyed, as though everyone had simply left what they were doing and vanished.
Daryl checked in case walkers had come through. But there was no mass of tracks in the dirt. Nothing seemed out of place. They were just gone. No reason, no explanation.
So he feared they'd been attacked, but it wasn't a violent attack. Without bloodshed, without bullets.
And they'd left everything behind. Hadn't left. Their vehicles remained. And if they'd been attacked, wouldn't the people take their things? Wouldn't they want their supplies?
He didn't know the answers, he just knew they were gone. And without them, he didn't know what to do or where to do.
And really, he had nothing else.
He had just this. This place and those people. And without them, this was nothing. A cold building with stuff in it.
But if they were taken and they escaped, they'd come back here. It was the only place he knew, the only place they knew.
So he decided to wait. Because he had nowhere to look for them. So he'd wait here. Maybe in a day or two they'd be back. He'd find out what happened and maybe they'd move on, if they weren't safe here any more.
But he couldn't move on without them. So he'd wait.
No matter how long.