The group made its way to the hardware store along the sidewalk beneath the roofs of the buildings. Daryl and Glenn peered inside the windows through the boards that someone had hastily nailed to them as a fortification. Mila watched silently as Daryl banged his fist on the boards to draw out any walkers within and shifted the strap of the bag on her back with a frown; she was happy to have found so many useful things in the clinic but the auspicious haul had resulted in a pack that was more burdensome than expected.
Glenn settled against the wall next to her as they waited for the all-clear.
"You did good in there," he said with a smile. "That's a lot of stuff."
She looked down, smiling modestly. "Yeah. It is. I'm glad I could help. And I'm even more glad that we got so much."
They flinched at the sound of the thud of a walker hitting the glass behind them. Nine of its fellows followed suit, snarling at clawing at the company outside. The group watched them for several minutes. Mila bit her lip; they were outnumbered.
"Alrigh'," Daryl announced, getting her attention. "That's probably all of 'em." He started towards the double doors as the walkers followed him from the other side of the glass with their mouths gaping. Watching them, Mila could not help but think of the oscar fish at the pet store Before, of how they used to follow her finger as she traced it along the glass of their tanks.
"How are we gonna get in?" she asked, trying not to let her nervousness show.
Sasha lowered her backpack to the ground and unzipped its largest pocket to produce a crowbar which she handed to Daryl before readying her knife. "The way that door's locked, there's no way to let them out a few at a time. We're gonna need to stay close to each other, and don't let them get behind you," she instructed, eyes on the inexperienced runner. "Don't go to them; let them come to you."
Mila nodded subordinately and Daryl turned back to the doors, sticking the wedge of the wrecker into the crack between them. Glenn took his place on her left, putting her in one of the center positions. Her legs felt hollow as he pried the door open and two of them spilled out, nearly falling onto the sidewalk. The others stepped on their heels heedlessly, and, with throaty growls, they shambled towards the four companions.
Daryl and Sasha lunged forward, sinking their blades into the skulls of the first two and, in one fluid motion, ripped them out, blood trailing through the air behind the tips of their knives. The third snapped its foreboding teeth at Glenn, who responded with a swift stab to its head. Mila turned her attention to the one heading towards her, its leg angled in an awkward direction as it shuffled towards her. It stumbled and tripped over the body that Glenn had felled, landing at Mila's feet with its arms outreached. She kicked free from its grip around her ankle with a muffled squeal and bent to shove her dagger through its temple. Glenn glanced at her as he dropped another walker, but was quickly diverted by another that snaked its arms around his shoulders. Grabbing it by the neck, he attempted to throw it to the ground but fell with it, landing on top of it.
For only a heartbeat, Mila watched in horror as the oversized creature grappled at her friend, its eyes and mouth wide and ravenous and only inches from his. With the combined forces of gravity its relentless grip, the struggle would prove too much for Glenn. Sasha threw a corpse to the ground and sprang into action, dispatching it in less than a second. Daryl jumped in front of Mila, making short work of one that had made its way towards her while she was distracted. He shot her a hasty glare as he turned to take down another, and she blinked in surprise and shook her head. Sasha extended her hand, pulling Glenn to his feet. With her lip curled, Mila charged the next one, knocking it against the door as she slashed into its eye as Daryl finished off the last of them with a stomp of his boot. The four looked at the massacre around them.
Glenn was dusting himself off as Sasha gave him a pat on the back and walked inside. Following her, Daryl glowered at Mila in unspoken castigation of her hesitation and inattention before he began inspecting the half-raided aisles. Mila stared shame-faced at Glenn. "Are you okay?" she asked apologetically.
He laid a hand over her shoulder with a sober expression. "Yeah. I'm okay. Don't beat yourself up. This is your first run, and it happened quick. Just . . . try not to freeze up next time."
"I'm really sorry," she whispered. He could have died, you idiot. You can't panic like that, she thought irately.
"Come on," he said with a sigh and half-hearted smile. "You can still stick by me."
They wandered the corridors wordlessly, still recovering from the intensity of what had just happened, but found very few things that could be useful. Unlike the clinic, people had apparently perceived the promise of what the hardware store contained; it had nearly been picked clean of anything that could be used as a weapon and had clearly been looted before by those trying to build a safe place. Together, Mila and Glenn managed to find a two boxes of three-inch nails, a shovel, several heavy chains, four padlocks, and Mila found a long, flathead screwdriver with a yellow handle that had rolled beneath one of the shelves. She tucked the screwdriver into her belt, remembering how Daryl had been able to use his as a small crowbar. What was left of the wood would have to wait until they could bring a truck to carry it. They met with Sasha near the center register.
"Find anything good?" she asked, eyes glazing over the shovel.
"Yeah. Some chains, locks, nails, and this," Glenn answered presenting the spade. "You?"
"A couple of flashlights. Some shirts. Seeds," she smiled, "- that's the best thing. For watermelons, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, radishes, and peas. I bet Hershel and Rick can put those to good use."
"What about Daryl?" Glenn asked.
As if to answer, they heard a whistle come from the back of the store. The three made their way towards him quickly and quietly. He pointed at the floor. Dried drops of blood trailed into the double doors where extra products were kept to stock the shelves when they ran low. He gingerly pushed against the door with one hand, crossbow raised in the other, but it would not open. Through the crack he had made, Mila could see a two by four barring the way.
"The door is boarded," she whispered. ". . . Should we call out?"
Daryl's jaw clenched as he thought, then he gave a succinct nod. Sasha and Glenn produced their guns, aiming them at the tiny opening between the doors, and Mila followed their lead, pulling her own gun from its holster on her right hip. Daryl banged on the door heavily. They heard someone shift inside; they must have been surprised by the sudden noise. "Come out!" he barked, bristling. Seconds ticked by.
"O-okay. . . ." came the uneasy reply. "Just take it easy. We're gonna open the door."