"So, you can adjust the scope?" Verlaine awed as I rolled my eyes. Even Daryl sighed impatiently.
"Yes, for the 100th time, yes."
"Is there a safety on it?" Verlaine asked, unfortunately being honest.
"I dunno, what model is it?"
"Uh, M107," Verlaine said unsurely.
"Damn, girl! If you're right, you have more than eight million dollars on your hands. Well, now in mine," I beamed.
Verlaine groaned harshly. "So, does it?"
"No. It has a manual thumb lever, though. Works similar."
"Tell me," Daryl said, "Why do you have a M107 and don't know shit about it?"
Thrash shot a nearby Walker, accurately getting it in the forehead. "There was plenty layin' around when shit hit the fan."
We jogged the rest of the way to the front lawn of the building. It looked like an old retirement home; there was used to be living plants scattered around randomly and a ramp heading to the front door adjacent to stairs.
"Was this some sort of old folk's home or somethin'?" Daryl asked, nudging a wilting Vine Rose, making the brown leaves crumble and fall.
"Yeah, Palm Trees Retirement Center. Used to have a waiting list just to get in. Sounds kinda morbid, if you think about it." Thrash chuckled, peeking in one of the big lobby windows before creaking the door open.
"That's a little too creepy," I commented as we all, in single file, shuffled through the doorway and into the luxury living room. I went across the room, into a little cove with board games and puzzles all crowded around a small cafe table. It was cozy, but at the same time sad. These poor people never had a chance.
"Well, that sucks," I muttered to myself as I moved a piece of a puzzle that was half done. Daryl walked over to me and assuringly leaned against my shoulder.
"How ya doin?" he whispered. I lightly shrugged.
"I feel like I'm just along for the ride without my Beretta. Like when Amy wants to tag along with Andrea. At least she has a bat," I whispered back, kissing his shit caked forehead as I turned my head.
"Stop worrying," Daryl soothingly said, "we'll find you a better one."
"AK-47? Uzi?" I joked, sort of.
Daryl laughed. "I don't think we're that lucky."
"Hey guys," Thrash called, getting our full attention when he whistled and waved his hand. "Remember what we're here for."
"Always," I exhaled, following Thrash and Verlaine into their ascent down a homey decorated hallway.
The stairwell was all the way at the end of the hall. We would have to go past a dozen rooms before reaching it. And it was a closed circuit; once we got through those doors, we wouldn't be able to see anything.
"Anyone got a flashlight?" Thrash rhetorically asked, signaling us closer to make a plan. "So, what do ya say?"
"Split the work. You and Verlaine take one side of the hallway and Daryl and I take the other. Once we get down to the other side, we open the door and prop it open so there's at least a tiny bit of light," I said, already feeling questions seep out of my companions minds.
"But that's five floors up," Verlaine commented.
"Each floor we'll prop the main door open," Thrash answered, receiving nods from everyone, "be extra alert."
"What about shit to prop the doors open?" Daryl asked, rubbing his nose and cautiously looking around.
"Find something small and heavy for the next four floors. A chair will do for this one," I answered, clapping my hands quietly. "Okay. Let's get this over with."
Verlaine and Thrash split from the group and formed a single file line down the right side of the hall. Daryl and I followed the pattern and crept down the left side at the same pace.
A few bullets here, a few arrows there. Nothing I couldn't take care of myself. You know, if I had a gun.
We reached the stairwells door safely. Well, other than Verlaine noisily tripping over the chair we used to prop up the heavy steel door.
"Jeez, this must double as a tornado shelter," I grunted as we all pushed against the door.
"Damn, how did the old folks get through?" Daryl grunted along with all of us. We finally got it all the way open as Verlaine and Thrash scooted the faux leather arm chair against the door.
"It was automatic. Now it's not," Verlaine said, rolling her eyes as we melodramatically wiped the sweat off our brow.
Thrash and Daryl went first, scoping the small beams of light that only went halfway up the first staircase.
"Clear," Thrash whispered, motioning with his hands to move forward. Verlaine and I followed into the boys footsteps up the first staircase and very carefully climbed up the second.
"Ayden," Daryl whispered, pulling me closer, "you have the best night sight. Open the second floors door."
"I can't tell if you're throwing me under the bus or complementing me," I groaned quietly, reaching for the doorknob I was pretty sure no one else saw.
I carefully turned the knob and with all my might, I pushed the door open, beams of light soaring through the darkish stairway. Verlaine, Daryl, and Thrash all covered their eyes painfully as I quickly snatched Verlaine's silenced gun and clipped a few Walkers standing in the hallway. Swiftly, I hurled through the wide hallway and grabbed the first bookshelf. In a matter of ten seconds, I was back to the door with the small but surprisingly heavy white bookshelf.
"Here," I said, slapping the gun back into Verlaine's hands.
"The fuck?" Thrash said, eyeing me mysteriously.
"Damn, you are fucking fast!" Verlaine yelled in excitement, gasping as I again took the gun from her and in a split second whipped around and shot a close Walker. My shot was more accurate than it had ever been before.
"Gimme that back," Verlaine laughed and snatched it back, "you're making me feel incompetent."
"Now ya know how I feel on a daily basis," Daryl said.
"Oh, whatever," I scoffed, following Thrash to another set of stairs. We jogged quickly up the next two, getting the third floors door without any trouble.
"You said this place was overrun," Daryl commented as he heaved the door open, an arrow ready to shoot at the nearest Walker.
"These doors were propped open before too," Verlaine said, peeking around the slit of light, "I got out just in time. They must've seen there was nothing here and moved out."
"More intelligent than we ever thought," Thrash exhaled unbelievingly, looking at me weird when I shook my head.
"I suppose you've never seen a whole group of them moving together, right?" I asked, repetitively going in front of the group and popping a few caps in the Walkers out in the hall without even leaving the stairwell.
"Like, a swarm of 'em? No way," Thrash announced loudly, getting shut up glares from Verlaine.
"Small coffee table, in the room to the left," I pointed out, giving Verlaine her gun back and peeking around the corner.
I quietly sneaked in the vacant room, bee lining to the ugly retro blue table closest to the front door. As I was yanking it from its place, I heard a click of a trigger and sick gurgles come from beside me.
"Thanks, babe," I said lovingly without turning my head. The arrow in its forehead was evidence enough.
"Need help?" he asked roughly, sounding like his vocals just went through a cheese grater.
"Nah, I got it," I said and looked back at him, "what happened to your voice?"
"Nothing, why?" he asked, his voice sounding normal again. Well, if sandpaper going against cat claws can be considered sounding normal.
"Offering to help someone a little too much for you?" I teased, sliding the table out the door and into the hallway.
"Nothing, it's stupid," he rubbed off, moving out of my way as I put the table beside the door.
"Don't even start the 'I quake in my boots because you were in danger' shit. Between you, Thrash, and Verlaine, combined with my kick ass skills, no one is in danger."
Just as Daryl laughed nervously and shook his head, Verlaine squeaked and Thrash made some sort of grunting noise.
"Look out!" she yelled, not long before Daryl got tackled to the ground.
Verlaine was freaking out, Thrash was fumbling with his gun, and I had no freaking gun. Coincidentally as my boyfriend was getting attacked by a Walker. Man, my life sucked.
Luckily enough, I had training. I knew what to do in high stress, quick to the moment situations.
Unfortunately, no one else did.
As I rushed to the Walker and uppercut it in the face with my combat boot, Thrash took a shot. I cursed in anger as the bullet grazed my calf and hit the Walker in the stomach.
"You fucking idiot!" I yelled at Thrash, helping Daryl up and quickly removing my boot. I rolled up the leg of material that tightly rung my right leg. The bullet ripped through a piece of skin the size of pencil, also ripping a chunk out of my favorite jeans. I was probably the most angry about the pants.
"I- I didn't know!" Thrash yelled, panic rough in his words.
"Are you okay? God, I should've done something." Verlaine sighed, putting her hand to her forehead.
"I'm fine, but look at my pants! And for Pete sakes, you could've shot Daryl with those goddamn aiming skills. Or, lack thereof," I snapped, walking over to the injured Walker and stomping on it's face violently. In an instant, it stopped squirming.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Daryl asked calmly, relaxing unwillingly when I checked thoroughly for bite marks.
"I'm dandy," I sighed, calming down even though the sting of my wound annoyed me more than it hurt.
After checking Daryl out, I ran into the kitchen of the nearest room and grabbed a small towel, unrolling my pant leg before tying it around my gash.
"We have a first aid kit up in the room," Verlaine shook, grabbing onto my shoulder once I came out as if she was about to hurl. "Man, that was a close call."
"We're all fine. Lets move," I said, grunting as every step contracted my right leg and stretched out my scratch.
We routinely made our way up to the fourth floor and eventually made it to the fifth. Other than the few pleading apologies from Thrash and hurling noises coming from Verlaine, conversations were minimal.
"It's the last room to the right," Verlaine said, acting more injured than I was.
"How'd you attract the dead, anyway?" I asked, helping her down the hallway. I took the gun from her, just in case. So far, that whole floor was undead free.
"Well, the only thing I was aiming for was animals and Walkers in the forest so I could shoot them without bustling much commotion down on the street. But nothing was in the forest, I was bored out of my mind. So, I readjusted and shot one on the street," Verlaine explained, rolling her eyes at Thrash as he did the same to her. "What, don't act like you've never shot one for the hell of it."
"Yeah, but I was being careful about it. I made sure I wouldn't get tracked down."
"Let's just get the gun and get the fuck out," I said, carefully stepping over the mess of furniture in the hallway.
"Don't look, Verlaine," Daryl commented as we came closer to the room. I spotted what he was talking about: in the room across from their hideout. The room was filled with mutilated bodies. Not Walkers, probably something the military set up. They were piled on top of each other everywhere, and most of them wore doctors uniforms or lab coats. Odd.
"That door was closed before," Verlaine cried out, finally letting her stomach win as she bent over and hurled the contents of whatever little she ate before. The stench reaked, I almost bent over right by Verlaine. Instead, I held my breakfast in and patted her back, looking at Daryl for an explanation. He shook his head.
"You guys start heading out. Take Verlaine out of here, I'll get the rifle," Daryl offered. I lifted y hand off of Verlaine and placed the back of my hand on my nostrils and nodded my head, holding in a dry heave.
"Let's go," I softly spoke and lightly tugged on Verlaine's shoulders, grabbing her by the waist when she stood. She swayed slightly, but kept her ground.
The sun was setting once we got outside. It was welcoming sight compared to inside of there. Verlaine and clenched her thick, wool lined hoodie as we watched the sun creep slowly behind the buildings.
"You doin' okay?" Thrash asked, rubbing her back as I took a step away to give them some privacy.
"Better," she sighed heavily, nodding her head as Thrash got closer to her ear. I couldn't make out what he said, but it seemed to make her feel better. I suppressed an awwwww just as Daryl dashed out of the main doors with the- or, my sniper rifle.
"I believe this is yours," he said gleefully, laughing as my eyes widened to the size of plates as I carefully let him set it in my hands.
"Hell yeah!" I called, checking it out as Verlaine got closer and smiled along with me.
"It's yours to keep," Verlaine said sorrowfully, sighing as I probed the thing like an alien.
"For reals?" I jokingly asked. I readied the rifle and aimed it at a nearby tree, adjusting the scope as needed. The scope was accurate enough, definitely not top notch but it would have to do.
"So," Thrash said excitedly, "what's the verdict?"
"Well," I said, inspecting it further to be extra sure, "this is not a M107. I can see why you thought so, they look pretty similar."
"What is it then?" Verlaine asked impatiently.
"A Berrett M95, right?" Daryl asked, raising his eyebrows when I shook my head.
"Close, it's an 82. In my opinion, better than an 84," I gawked, "this ones a bit heavier and bigger. Sadly, this is not a 8 million gun you got here. It's actually around 8 grand. Still, in excellent quality."
Daryl laughed. "I'm now convinced that and this crossbow ain't a fair trade."
"Oh, now," I commented, "it's all how you use it."
I beamed a smile at everyone and rested the rifle on my shoulder before walking off.
"So, where are you guys headed?" Daryl asked Verlaine and Thrash as they all followed me. Oh, how it feels to be the leader of a group.
"Well, right now we're getting Jimmy, right?" Verlaine asked. I turned around and nodded.
"Okay, so where are you staying tonight?"
"We were hoping... maybe you'd let us stay with your camp for tonight?"
"I'm pretty sure we can arrange that," I said confidently, "Merle don't take too nice of new people but we can make it work."
"Jimmy, bro," Thrash said as we got to the clearing. He shook his shoulder roughly, making the sleeping wierdo jump.
"What, am I bit? Did someone die?" Jimmy yelled, spazzing out and patting himself down.
Thrash laughed. "Everyone's fi-"
"I got shot," I rectified furiously, cringing as I realized Daryl forgot the first aid kit.
Jimmy looked down at my leg and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and psuedo yawning.
"What, my pain doesn't matter?"
"Okay, before hell brakes loose," Daryl said, waving his arms, "let's get moving before it gets darker."
I sighed and crossed my arms, mirroring Thrash. We glared each other down before Jimmy coughed.
"Where we goin'?" Jimmy asked, sounding drowsy. He rubbed his eyes thoroughly before standing up.
"To camp," I enthusiastically said, turning my head to Jimmy, "oh, how Merle will looove you."
"Merle? Who's Merle?" Jimmy asked. Daryl and I laughed.
"That would be my brother," Daryl said.
"Someone you do not want to cross paths with," I added truthfully. Jimmy groaned.
We got to the dirt path that headed straight towards the camp. From where we stood, it was only a half a mile away.
"Tell me more about these people," Verlaine curiously asked. She regained her balance, no longer needing my shoulder.
"Uh, there's Shane. He's... also not one to mess with," I said, thinking about the time in the forest. It seemed every time I thought of Shane, the night in the forest haunted my mind.
"Amy and Andrea. Inseparable sisters," Daryl added.
"What about the Asian boy?" Jimmy asked, getting excited as the camp came into view.
"Oh, Glenn? He's our going to town guy."
Before we got bombarded with more questions, Lori stormed up to us, not even giving the new kids a tiny glance.
"Where is everything? Aren't you supposed to be carrying, like, a big, red sack filled with-" Lori snapped at us, pausing to look at Verlaine and the gang.
"Uh, this is Verlaine, Jimmy, and Thrash," I introduced innocently. Lori eyed me suspiciously. "Aaand I got a new gun."
"Yo," Thrash said and smiled. Lori politely smiled back.
"Hey Rick!" she yelled, still eyeing them as she turned her head towards the camp.
"Yeah," he obediently called, running toward the entrance to the dirt path, where we stood.
"We got some stowaways," Lori said, seeming to be in one of her 'moods'. Ugh.
"Oh hey," Rick said, more enthusiastic than usual, "you guys hungry?"
"Well, sure!" Jimmy giggled, making Rick chuckle and look at me and Daryl unsurely.
We all followed Rick to the camp, some more excited than others. Mainly, Daryl and I were the unexcited ones. Go figure.
Everyone stared at us once we got to the hear of the camp, where the fire pit is and where we gathered around at the end of the day to eat dinner.
"This is, uh... Andrea and Amy. The sisters," I said, pointing to them with a curtsy of my head. Andrea gave a cautious glance, which would probably be much more hostile if I wasn't there. Amy sweetly waved, grinning as Verlaine waved back.
"This is Morales and his family."
Morales' kids hid behind him and his wife, but other than that, a friendly tone radiated from their acknowledging nods.
"This is Carol, Ed, and Sophia Pelletier."
Ed, as expected, sneered at the newcomers. The exact opposite of Ed, his wife Carol, smiled politely. Sophia nodded unsurely and snuggled closer into her mothers arms.
"Ah, here comes Merle," Daryl muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as Merle Dixon rounded a corner.
"What's up, Merle?" I said, beaming a very cheesy, toothy, and above all fake smile towards his direction.
"Who's this?" he asked, practically circling around Thrash. He sneered and looked at Jimmy for guidance. Jimmy put up his hands inferiorly.
"Uh, that's Verlaine, Thrash, and Jimmy."
"I would try to make you piss yourself right now," Merle said tiredly, talking directly to Jimmy, "but I'm about to drop my ass into hibernation."
As Merle walked away and into a tent, oh... MY tent (insert annoyed roll of the eyes here; put decontamination of my air mattress on the to-do list, right after become an errand boy for Carol), Daryl chuckled and walked to Jimmy.
"Told ya."