Chapter 6

Daryl

His perfect inner state of Zen was broken. He heard running steps a few hours in from when he'd left the false safety of the town and soon after, his name was being hollered breathlessly.

"What d'ya want?" Daryl sighed without even turning around when the chink reached him. The kid flinched beside him, still panting.

"Jeez - what's wrong with you? I was just concerned…" Yeah, right. "Why are you coming this way? Towards our camp."

Daryl glanced, once – twice, maybe letting his gaze linger on the Asian's face and figure for a moment. Glenn had kind eyes. Dark. Innocent. Not very fierce. That mouth was set in a serious, firm line. "Got nothin' else to do nowadays," Daryl sighed softly, not really seeing the point of being angry all the time. He looked upwards, tilting his head back and noting that the sky was clear. Thousands of shining stars were littering the firmament. It was going to be a cold night.

Glenn squinted at him. Looked up as well, then back at him. "But it's dark. Aren't you afraid to go out at night?"

Daryl's head twisted down to face Glenn's. He was about to snap at him because he was Daryl fucking Dixon goddammit but the kid was staring him deep into the eyes, and all anger inside of him was silenced. Instead, he looked forward and concentrated on taking proper steps and not getting caught on a root and tripping.

"Ya got some intense eyes, ya know that, kid?"

He could tell that the kid's heart skipped a beat at that. There was a pause in Glenn's walking pace, then something unexpected: a literal scoff.

"After what I think I heard you just say, hell, after everything you've seen me do you call me a kid? Seriously?" Daryl finally turned fully, examining the kid's figure. Arms lean against ribs, thin, exposed wrists…

"Ya should learn not to take half a' the shit I say to heart."

"How do I know what I should take seriously, then?"

Daryl stilled. Confronting like this was beyond him. And… there was this something about this kid that was… Nevermind. "Dunno. Figure it out, maybe?"

That was asking for more than just asking Glenn to figure him out. It was asking someone to give him a chance, and that was something that Daryl had never dared, been able to, had never been brave enough to ask any third party person. And he didn't know where it came from now.

The knot of Glenn's brow still didn't ease and Daryl decided to break the silence by making an awkward and very unnecessary motion towards Grimes' camp. "Come on. Yer camp's close."

Glenn followed him for the rest of the way like a puppy.

"You don't have to come."

Glenn seemed very determined to go all by himself. He was very brave, Daryl had to give him that.

So Andrea was gone. Maybe in danger, or dead. Daryl had promised the blonde chick in town to bring her sister back. Daryl couldn't push the distant images of his brother being brought to him as a lifeless corpse, or even worse, an aimless, snarling zombie…

He was going.

"Nah. I'm okay."

Daryl turned his head towards Glenn just in time to see Rick Grimes approaching the car. He wore this worried expression on his face, and Daryl couldn't help scoffing. Rick leaned against the Hyundai, poking his head inside through the open window.

"Take this," Grimes said quietly while offering Glenn a revolver. It was a Colt Python. Glenn's eyes widened slightly, Daryl could tell.

"But it's your –"

"I need you to take it. Want you back in one piece. And bring Andrea, too," Rick said tossing a goofy smile and a nod at Daryl. "Both of you."

The gate opened and Daryl started the car.

"There's no going back now," Glenn warned him and he snorted. Daryl Dixon could handle himself.

"I know," he assured and definitely stepped on the gas pedal.

Atlanta was just as silent as it had been the last time they had gone to the city. It was unnerving. Daryl stared at Glenn's lean backside again, the flex of those muscles under the t-shirt, the sweat damped hair… It was a welcome distraction.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me about Amy first," Glenn complained from a few meters away. He was looking around and upwards restlessly. Daryl squinted.

"What's happened to all the dead people?" He couldn't help asking. Glenn sent a confused stare over his shoulder.

"Dude. Where have you been? It's the apocalypse. There's a reason to why we're still wary." Glenn brushed a few drops of sweat off his forehead. He looked exhausted. "It's like the geeks get it. They think, Daryl. We never know when there's going to be a herd of them in front of us."

"So they intentionally march in groups now? Oh, I get it," Daryl scoffed, flexing his trigger finger, aching to shoot something. Glenn rolled his eyes and turned his head back to look ahead.

Glenn looked smart all the time. Alert. Might explain why he had survived all this time with a ragtag group consisting of citizens. Grimes seemed okay, if not a bit out of it. But maybe Glenn relied on him. There seemed to be some kind of invincible bond between the two. Daryl could see how Glenn kept rolling.

"What's yer business with the Governor?"

The kid flinched visibly.

"I deliver information. God, I feel like a freaking errand boy," Glenn muttered under his breath. Daryl lifted an eyebrow curiously.

"And ya ain't one?"

The kid let out a shaky chuckle and seemed to relax a bit from his firm stance. "You never stop, do you?"

"What?" Daryl asked, smirking, maybe detecting a hint of amusement in his own voice.

"Don't think of me as useless, Daryl. You seem to stick your nose in my business and I guess there's no getting rid of you, but despite everything I still expect a tiny little bit of respect from you." Glenn's movement went more cautious again. "Is that too much asked?"

"No, Zipperhead. Not at all," Daryl whispered. He really couldn't remember what it felt like to even have a very brief, light small talk with someone.

"Come on. Let's find Andrea," Glenn reminded in a serious tone.

They crouched under a few broken fences and climbed the intact ones. Glenn was careful in the quiet of the city, always making sure Daryl followed close behind. Daryl followed Glenn up a dangerous looking fire escape, keeping his eyes strictly upwards.

"What kinda info does the Governor need from ya?"

"About some kind of military group, I guess? I think it has something to do with the research that the Governor's doing. Research for the cure." Glenn let out a few grunts and Daryl wondered what the hell he was doing until he noticed that Glenn's legs were hanging and kicking above his head. Realization hit him: two steps were missing from the ladder. "I don't know if you know about anything, I don't even know if I should be telling you this, but the Governor says the soldiers might fuck it all up."

"Really," Daryl growled as he stared way up at the step that was hard to reach. Glenn's ass waved further away from him every second. He spared a quick glance down and breathed in deep. The landing would be pretty bad if he fell. He'd probably just die and reanimate soon after… wouldn't that be too easy. He gathered all his courage and reached for the next step of the ladder. It almost felt like he couldn't even get a decent grip, but somehow, he managed to pull himself up the ladder and keep going. There had to be a God watching out for him out there after all.

"You okay down there?" came the amused question from above. Daryl glanced up. Glenn was already over the edge of the wall and staring at him, smiling devilishly.

"Yeah," Daryl hollered, his voice steady, but as he looked at one of his hands, he noted that it was shaking slightly. That was something that made him feel bouncy inside. "What do ya get for doin' all that shit to him?"

"I get a ticket to your party for me and my people," Glenn stated firmly, as if he was desperately hoping that indeed was the case.

"Hope it turns out all good fer ya," Daryl said and climbed over the edge as well.

The rooftop was high. Daryl still felt a bit dizzy when Glenn headed towards the other side of the roof, taking light jogging steps all the way.

"We've said to meet here in case we get separated in the city. It's safe here," Glenn explained as Daryl caught up with him and faced the empty buildings and streets below.

"Safe my ass…"

"Look. We can see the entire city from here." The kid turned to lean his back against the concrete edge of the roof. "It's beautiful. The sunset."

"I don't like cities that much," Daryl confessed with a final glance over the rooftop and settling for sitting down with Glenn. "Grew up in the woods. Learned to love my own space."

"Why?"

"Pa lived in the countryside. Back when he was still sane, he used to take me and my brother huntin'. Good ol' times. Moved even deeper into the woods when things took a wrong turn. Uncle Jess took good care of us." Daryl turned his face to study Glenn's understanding smile and felt disgusted at himself because he never had to tell. The chink shook his head and sighed.

"I was always the shame of my family. Didn't do well at school," Glenn mumbled quietly to break the silence between them. Daryl's ears perked up at the even tone of the kid's voice. "I was good at stealing cars, though. Not that it ever mattered. I worked my ass off here, in this city. Delivered pizzas. I guess I learned to love that lifestyle. I know this place by heart."

Daryl only nodded because he didn't know what to say. It felt like this topic was too heavy for them to discuss. Glenn smiled at the floor of the roof, though.

"So we just wait now?"

"Yeah. We wait."

The sun went lower every minute they sat. Daryl listened to Glenn's even breathing. Every now and then, there was an occasional snarl of a walker coming from below the building. No sign of any trouble, though.

"Even Rick thinks –"

There was the loud noise of a gun firing once, cutting the kid's sentence roughly off. Glenn jumped on his ass and quickly looked at Daryl with horror in his eyes.

"Andrea?" the chink asked breathlessly.

"Or someone else. That sounded like a rifle," Daryl managed out and they both shot up from the ground like bullets. "We gotta go. Need to save that bitch right now." Daryl was already halfway to the fire escape when Glenn piped up almost angrily.

"No! There's a fucking sniper in the window. Look." Daryl squinted to the direction of the gunshot, and there really was a sniper doing his job there. There were more gunshots, and then Daryl saw them. The walkers. A really huge pack of them about a mile away. "We can't just run in there, we'll get killed."

"You're right. What's yer plan?"

Glenn seemed to think, hopefully fast, and in ten seconds flat he had come up with a plan that he didn't have time to explain to Daryl. "Just trust me."

Glenn went through a couple of buildings in a hasty state of mind, eager to find Andrea in one piece. The sniper wouldn't see them, Daryl thought. Kid was good. Really good.

All of the positive thoughts Daryl had just a minute ago vanished when they neared a small gas station and the open space surrounding it. There was a horde of over a hundred already and at least another fifty was coming closer from the western streets, probably having heard the gunshots. Were that sniper and his friends planning on getting rid of all their heads? Fucking waste of ammo.

"Haven't seen this huge of a crowd of zombies in a while," he mumbled and Glenn nodded.

"All this ruckus must have triggered this," the kid explained.

They kneeled down to hide behind the fallen fascia of the gas station and watched the scene in front of them. That sniper was good. Walkers fell down and there were bullets coming from another direction as well.

"We have to get inside before those other people do. Andrea could be in danger," Glenn whispered. Daryl looked at Glenn's shaking hands against the fascia and realized the boy needed support.

"We gotta get to the other side. Ain't no way we can enter through walkers."

Glenn looked at him seriously and nodded.

Daryl took the lead to crouch under the hoods of buildings, keeping his eyes on the sniper at all times. As long as nobody saw them, they'd be okay. Hopefully.

Daryl thought of Glenn's innocent head bashed in or shot at. It was wrong. No kind or pure person should be forced to live in this world.

No one like Amy. And Daryl wouldn't allow Andrea to die and not go to her sister. That wasn't the way things should end up.

"I'm going to run for it," Glenn breathed out next to him, and before Daryl could even notice, the kid was running and topping himself at the same time.

Bullets flew franticly right past Daryl as he made himself run after Glenn. He stared only at that bouncing backpack and flailing hands, instead of trying to dodge every single life taking thing. "Get 'em!" someone shouted from a distance and Daryl ran faster. Walkers were behind him. He sprinted, bent over and made a painful downhill onto the floor of the gas station through the held open door.

"We made it!" Glenn smiled victoriously as Daryl rolled over to his back and breathed. The gunfire continued outside.

"We got one hell of a problem now. Let's find that bitch and get the fuck outta here," Daryl grunted when he finally managed to catch his breath. His old bones ached as he stood, shouldering his unharmed crossbow. Glenn was looking out of the window cautiously. Daryl made to scavenge the few rooms in search of a blonde chick and painkillers. His shoulder hurt, bad.

There were no people nor were there painkillers in the gas station. He did find a tiny Minigrip bag of pot, though. Daryl sighed in frustration. His shit went too much south nowadays.

"There's no one in here," Daryl announced to Glenn who was still peering out of the window. "Let's go 'fore those assholes get in here."

"Impossible," Glenn warned him in a worried tone. "Both exits are swarming with walkers."

"Shit," Daryl cursed, pressing a palm to his temple. "We could wait it out 'til they've cleared one of the exits?"

The kid turned to look at him, shaking his head miserably. "Maybe, but we need a shitload of luck. The sniper…"

"Great."

The shooting stopped. Daryl flinched to action. He checked the front door exit. No luck. Six men were walking towards the gas station.

"What d'ya see?"

"The sniper stays in place. We could try to run–"

"No," Daryl said firmly, glaring at the guys getting closer to the front. He tried to gather his thoughts, tried to come up with an idea that could save their lives –

No such ideas came to mind. Glenn's posture remained calm, but as Daryl looked over his shoulder, he could see Glenn's brow curl into a worried frown.

"We're gonna get through this," Daryl murmured quietly now that the guys outside were so close. He eyed the room demandingly. "We could kill 'em, China."

The kid's head snapped to him. "I can't."

There was a five seconds long staring contest that Glenn won way too easily. Daryl put his fingers to his eyes, adding pressure. "Fuck ya."

"We have to run, Daryl," Glenn whispered, begging.

"Shut up, 'm tryna think." Right. The closet with the bag of pot. "Come on," Daryl loped to Glenn, yanked him by the elbow and led them to the tiny room in the back. They'd have the advantage to surprise the guys.

"Wait –"

Daryl shoved Glenn roughly into the closet with all kinds of shit littering the floor and cupboards against the walls. He entered the closet right after, closing the door strictly behind.

It was a tight fit for two. Daryl breathed into the darkness. "Get yer machete ready."

Glenn's uneven inhales echoed in the closet. The kid smelled of nervous. Daryl moved a hand to the kid's arm to calm him down. In his other hand, he held his crossbow ready for action.

"They're going to find us," Glenn whimpered. Daryl could feel his hot breath on his collarbone. He bit his lower lip and tasted blood.

"They're still here. Check every corner," came a low voice from the main hall of the gas station. Daryl squeezed Glenn's arm harder. He listened to the guys' careful steps coming from outside the closet. They'd find them. They'd find them, and Daryl would fail his task, Glenn would be dead, lifeless on the ground…

A shadow appeared to darken the pitiful amount of light coming from below the door. Daryl stared down at the floor, all of his muscles tense, anticipating the door to open…

Glenn suddenly startled against him and the sound of a trigger being pulled echoed in the air.