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His brother saw Murphy signalling them to come over. The urgency in the waving made the group jog over at a pace.
"What's the problem?" Daryl asked the dark-haired twin.
It was then, with both Daryl and Murphy stood before her, that Lorna realised that the men looked very familiar; the same deep-set eyes, strong jaw lines and even similar beauty spots in the corner of their mouths. It was uncanny.
"She's not one of them; she just spoke ta me, asked for help then blacked out." Murphy replied, his eyebrow raising as he noticed Lorna looking from him to Daryl and back, a dumbfounded expression on her face.
Daryl and Lorna crouched by the woman; she looked in her mid-thirties, her long brunette hair was wavy and matted with sand and dirt. Then Lorna noticed the bruises around her left eye socket and cheek; she felt a gnawing in the pit of her stomach as she came to the conclusion that someone must have hit the woman pretty hard to leave that sort of mark.
"Looks like someone attacked her; no bites, but a big ass bruise on her face. Whoever did this was living, was no biter that's for sure." Daryl explained to the others as he examined the woman's face.
"Well we can't leave her here, someone help me get her to the car." Lorna sighed. She wasn't prepared to leave this older woman, unconscious on a soggy beach, for the biters.
Murphy tucked his arms around the woman, bringing her into his chest, her legs hanging over one of his arms, her head rolling onto his shoulder. He must have been pretty strong, as her dead weight on him didn't seem to affect him at all.
"I got her, come on." He growled, leading the way back to the car.
They laid the woman in the back of the car, leaving space for Lorna to sit with her; she was smaller than Romeo, so his new place was next to Daryl. The two of them spoke in low mutters, planning on what to do once they got to the quarry, Daryl's first plan. Connor had volunteered to drive, leaving Murphy in the passenger seat, peeking over his shoulder every few minutes to check on the unconscious passenger.
Lorna was just making a mental note to help the woman get cleaned up when they got to the quarry's lake Daryl had spoken of, when the woman stifled a moan. Her eyebrows furrowed, her eyelids squeezing tight. She gasped, her head shaking. Her body became tense, her nails digging into the seat of the car as she pushed herself up.
Murphy looked helpless as he could only watch Lorna try to calm the woman.
"Shh shh, it's ok, you're safe." The younger girl assured the upset woman.
"What's going on? Where am I?" she didn't pause between each question.
"We found you unconscious, on a beach in Brunswick. You're safe now." Lorna spoke softly.
The woman relaxed back into the seat, her breathing slowed its pace.
"You have a name?" Daryl asked her.
The woman's eyes snapped to Daryl, and then she took in every person sat in the car, watching them suspiciously.
"Kerry, I'm Kerry, and thank you for not leaving me there to die." She sighed, "If those monsters had shown up, I would have died for sure."
Lorna swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She felt a pang of sadness as she looked at the swollen bruise on the woman's face. Even though Kerry was probably old enough to be her mother, Lorna silently promised the woman that she was going to look after the woman and make sure no-one laid a hand on her again.
"Nice of you to wake up sleeping beauty," Murphy smiled sweetly at the woman, it was obvious that he was smitten with the woman's pretty face, bruise or no bruise. Kerry blushed, her eyes still wary of the men in the car.
"I'm Murphy," the Irishman continued, "this is me brother Connor, our Mexican Romeo and these two are our new friends, Daryl and Lorna." Lorna felt warmness in her heart at being called these people's friend.
Daryl, Romeo and Connor all greeted the woman in turn. Lorna explained their plan to set camp up at the quarry in Georgia whilst they planned what to do next, and Kerry listened carefully, nodding to show she was paying attention.
"I honestly don't mind where we go, I just don't want to end up on my own, again." She replied honestly.
The journey didn't take long, but a mixture of the concussion and exhaustion sent Lorna to sleep in the back of the car. She awoke when the soothing motion of the moving car came to a halt, the Irishman behind the wheel turning to the others,
"Tank's empty, we need to scavenge some fuel."
Lorna stretched and scratched her head; she can't have been asleep long. She checked their surroundings, several cars were scattered across the road, all of them uninhabited, the passengers either dead or long gone looking for refuge.
"I'll go, won't take me long. There should be enough fuel in those cars to get us to the quarry; it's about forty-five minutes from here." Daryl announced, reaching for the car door.
"I'll come with ya, wanna stretch me legs and have a smoke." Murphy joined in, opening his door. He would normally smoke in the car, but he wasn't sure if the women would appreciate that.
The almost identical men stepped out of the vehicle, taking a plastic container form the trunk to fill with petrol. They set off towards the cars a few yards away; Murphy pulled a cig out of the box, placing it between his lips. He motioned the carton towards Daryl, who shook his head.
"You're alright, you save them. I've got some back in the car." Daryl gave the man a polite nod.
"Nah its fine. I'll just pinch one off ya later." Murphy smirked.
"Go on then," the hunter said, taking one and copying Murphy's actions, "Thanks."
They lit their cigarettes with Murphy's lighter, and smoked them a little too quickly. The stress of the day was being taken out on the little sticks of pleasure. The moment lasted a minute or so, before both cigs were stubbed and thrown to the floor. The pair moved on towards the cars, it didn't take long to fill the container, before Murphy came across a dirty black van with a symbol of some sort on the side. Daryl watched him break open the back door and climb in. He returned a moment later, holding an acoustic guitar.
"Must have belonged to a band," Murphy grinned, looking back at the van as he made his way to Daryl, "I know someone who will fucking love this."
Daryl didn't have time to ask questions, as his eyes laid on the dragging corpse that was about to grab Murphy's shoulder.
"Behind you!" Daryl yelled, lifting his crossbow to take aim.
Murphy must have spotted the wave of panic that washed over the hunter's face, because at that moment, the dark-haired man swooped down to whip the large blade from his boot. He brought the knife up to the growling jaw of the walking dead, and with an almighty grunt he thrust the weapon into its chin, the blade piercing up into its brain. A disgusting combination of blood and black fluid coursed out of the fresh wound on the dead. He pushed the body away, letting it land on the ground with a pathetic thud.
Murphy stood for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, the shock of the biter creeping up on him evident in his widened blue eyes.
"You alright?" Daryl rushed to check his shoulder.
"M' fine." He replied bluntly, dismissing Daryl's concern, "Come on let's go."
They made their way back to the people carrier, Murphy offered to fill the tank so he could sneak the guitar into the trunk. The unsuspecting guitarist sat inside the vehicle, no idea that his brother had a gift for him in the back, a gift that nearly cost the dark-haired twin's life.
"Let's move on, you ok to keep driving if I give you directions, or shall I take the wheel?" Daryl asked Connor.
Connor thanked Daryl and they swapped seats, Connor now sitting in front of Lorna. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and smiled at the women, "You both ok ladies?" he purred with that gorgeous Irish accent. He looked at Kerry, who smiled back at him, and then he switched his eyes to Lorna where he kept his gaze on her a little longer. Lorna gave him the best smile she could muster; she felt like she'd walked straight out of a cheesy love film as she drowned in his ocean blue eyes. After a long moment of gazing at him, she could have sworn he blushed. He grinned and turned his head back front.
Lorna remained silent for the rest of the journey, a certain Irishman occupying her mind.
The quarry was just as secluded and serene as Daryl has described. The water was surrounded by large mountain like hills; the area they would set up camp was hidden by trees. Everybody spilled out of the people carrier; Lorna found it comical as she watched the twins stretch in unison.
"Aye, this is a good place to set up; hat's off ta ya Daryl." Connor clapped a hand on the hunter's back, and wasted no time in lighting a cigarette; again, Murphy mirrored his brother's actions. Lorna tugged on Daryl's arm to catch his attention.
"We have three tents." She informed him.
Connor, Murphy and Romeo came to stand with the pair, Kerry was leaning against the car a metre away.
Daryl went to grab the tents from the car, giving the older woman a reassuring smile as he reached her, and then headed back to the group.
"Ok, we have three two-man tents, so we need to decide who's sleeping in which tent, and all let's be adults about it." Daryl gave his best leadership voice.
Connor immediately claimed one for him and his brother, explaining that they had never spent a night apart. They had shared a room as children, shared a room in their Boston apartment, and weren't prepared to be separated now.
Lorna offered to share a tent with Kerry. It would be cruel to make the hurt, lone woman share a sleeping space with a strange man. Kerry agreed that she would prefer to stay with the only other female.
That left Daryl and Romeo. Neither man objected and seemed fine with the arrangements; they were grown men after all. No-one was going to accuse them of being queer like some playground bullshit.
The men set up camp whilst Lorna cleaned the older woman up. She wouldn't ask about the bruises, she would wait until the woman was ready to open up.
Everyone was so exhausted by the time the camp was sorted, that they all turned in for the night. Daryl insisted he would stay up and keep watch, but Connor wouldn't have any of it. He could see just how worn out the hunter was, and ordered him to get some sleep.
Connor sat on the edge of the grassy hill, watching out over the surrounding hills and woodland. Compared to the hectic streets of Boston, the post apocalypse Georgian countryside was unnervingly silent for the Irishman. A rustling from behind him made him snap his head back, snatching the gun from his leg holster in record speed.
"Hey, it's only me." Lorna gasped.
"Sorry sweetheart, what's up?" he gestured for the young woman to sit down on the grass next to him.
She placed herself so close to him, she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I couldn't sleep." She answered, rolling a blade of grass between her fingers.
"I'm surprised any of us can, with all what's gone on." Connor sighed, looking into Lorna's eyes.
Lorna felt the blushing in her cheeks spread like fire, she dropped her eyes from the man's gaze. She couldn't sleep because of the things on her mind, Connor being the main thing she thought of. She had tossed and turned in her tent, every time her eyes closed, his stupidly handsome face was there; his radiant eyes fixed on her, almost begging her to kiss him.
"Yeh, it's a lot for everyone to take in." she murmured.
They sat in silence after that; Lorna tried to shake Connor from her mind, unaware that she occupied his thoughts, as they both watched out onto the horizon.