A/N: I know nothing of American landscapes, weather, malls or weapons. Facts I gather from Google, apologies if these are inaccurate.
* Apologies also for the delay in a new chapter, I struggled with this one, still not completely satisfied with it, but I have edited it a number of times and it is what it is :)
The decision was made that Daryl should move to share with Carol. Even though they were surging during the damned apocalypse, it baffled Daryl as to how the women still managed to accumulate quite as much stuff, so it was easier for him to relocate.
The fact that moving down a floor would separate him from the noise of Glenn and Maggie going at it like rabbits was a pleasant bonus. He wouldn't admit it out loud, of course but the main advantage was the increase in time spent with Carol. They hadn't physically shared a bed, however. Daryl was secretly looking forward to the temperature dropping enough that he could valiantly offer his services in supplying body heat. His pondering of that prospect alone could maintain a furnace, such was his desire for her.
Three days after Beth's funeral, Daryl found himself loading up his bike for an ordinary supply run. He didn't particularly want to go, if he was honest, he would have happily spent the day doing odd jobs.
Jobs that would, more than likely, happen to be in general vicinity of a certain silver haired beauty, who seemed to be mostly fighting fit again. He sighed as he placed a handgun in the pouch which was attached to the side of his bike along with a bottle of water. They hadn't officially notified the rest of their family of their cohabitation.
If anyone had noticed, no one mentioned anything specifically, bar Glenn, who raised his eyebrows and grinned at Daryl when they had passed each other on the metal stairs, as the hunter was transporting a backpack of belongings down to Carol's cell.
Heading out on today's run with him was Rick, Michonne, Sasha and Bob. The air held a chill to it, the nights were drawing in and they were definitely in the grip of autumn's hues; everything seemed to be shades of reds, or the burnt orange tones of copper and rust. Daryl wasn't a fan of this time of year, he much preferred the freshness and promise of spring. The end of each year brought about the death and decay of much of the landscape.
Thinking about death and decay, he felt the pockets of his leather jacket, found his cigarettes and lit one up, surveying the congregation of walkers at that vulnerable patch of fence. The situation hadn't improved, nor had the council formulated any plan of action to overcome it, except to carry on strengthening the supports. If it weren't for that weak spot, Daryl might allow himself to feel quietly optimistic that his life here could only get better.
The most important person to him in this strange new world had survived the plague which had descended upon them, indeed, those closest to him, his new family, were all still alive. He now looked forward to the evenings and nights after dinner even more, owing to the fact that he had Carol as his cellmate.
His awkward reaction to her questioning his pitiful bedside admission had been brushed aside, the knowledge that she knew but was prepared not to push the issue intensified his feelings; he would move mountains for that woman.
He was under no illusions. She was far too good for him. Had the world not fallen, there was no way a woman like her would ever be close to a guy like him, but she kept reiterating that his own opinion of himself was wrong. Indeed, she looked at him with such affection and that coupled with her complete trust of him, made him anxious that he could only ever let her down.
Finishing his cigarette, he watched as Tyreese, Glenn and Maggie approached the weakened fence area and set about trying to take down as many of the moaning bodies as they could. There were of wood stacked near them which were ready for use to strengthen the towering railings.
Turning his head, he saw Sasha and Bob loading up a pick up, their grins and high spirits telling Daryl that they'd spend the entire trip flirting and giving each other the eye. He should pull Bob to one side and warn him against stepping out of line regarding his inclination to enjoy drinking the hard stuff, but so far as he knew, the army medic hadn't touched a drop since the incident at the veterinary college.
Daryl thought maybe he should have a word with him anyway, ensure that the lovey dovey stuff didn't lead to any dangerous situations should guards be lowered out there. However, if Carol was ever out on a run, Daryl knew that he'd spend the entire time ensuring no harm would become her, even at his own expense. So if anything, perhaps Bob's guard would be heightened with Sasha there.
"Hey, Daryl," her voice floating on the breeze from behind startled him. He turned and was hit with her smile, although she had to squint in the low morning sun.
"Everythin' ok?" he asked immediately, out of habit. He was sure she would grow tired of that question, but it was like a reflex for him now.
"Yeah," she nodded, pulling a sheet of paper from her pants pocket, "Just wondered if you look out for whatever you can from this list?"
He reached out to take it from her and their fingers brushed, perhaps lingering for seconds longer than necessary. They exchanged sweet smiles and Daryl looked down at the list. Most of it was standard requests from the kids Carol taught self defence to, although her classes had been suspended until the following week.
"You put those pyjama things on here?" he remarked, seeing her familiar swirly writing. Carol nodded, "I'm a little concerned about the cold weather, some of the younger ones and the old Woodbury folks could struggle once the temperature drops. Plus, I put some things on there for Judith, extra blankets, hats and socks. Rick said you were heading for that abandoned mall, near Adamsville? Hopefully the stores there will have some decent stuff left in them." She pulled at the sleeves of her pink fleece hoody, which was clearly a size too big for her. The colour suited her, intensified the blue of her eyes and the silky paleness of her hair.
"I'll get everything I can. We'll be back tomorrow afternoon," Daryl replied, wishing once again that he didn't have to go. Although they were sharing a cell, and had kept to separate beds, neither of them was quite brave enough to suggest bunking up together yet.
Now they stood, barely a foot apart and the memory of the last run he'd been on, when she had been at death's door reared up in his mind. They'd been lucky that time, they'd found what they needed, Carol and Glenn had pulled through, but for how much longer would their luck hold?
"Stay safe," she muttered, seemingly as reluctant as he was for him to go, her eyes were lowered to the ground as though she couldn't look at him.
"Hey," Daryl said, stepping closer and raising her chin with his right hand, their eyes instantly meeting. His eyes searched her worried ones. "What is it?"
Carol shrugged, unable to tell him that she had treasured the last few days, days where he had been almost constantly at her side, the two of them eating together and in their own bubble after the scare of her illness. This was reality crashing down on her, he was always going to be the one at risk because he was always top of the list for runs. They were never going to know true peace and would always live with that uncertainty.
"Just don't want you to go," she breathed, the warm gentleness of his touch under her chin coupled with the intensity of his eyes almost making her dizzy. "I've liked having my own personal slave, at my beck and call." Breaking the spell, she took half a step back and chuckled.
Daryl snorted, "Oh yeah," he teased as she grabbed hold of the hand he lowered from her face, "Like bein' waited on hand and foot, huh?"
She widened her eyes and grinned, "Maybe. I could get used to making demands of you."
Smiling, Daryl threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to his side. He lowered his face so that his mouth was near to her left ear, instantly noticing the goosebumps which broke out on her skin at the feeling of his breath on her. They were leaning against his bike, as activity in the yard swarmed around them.
"Maybe I got a demand for you," whispered Daryl, watching in awe as a visible shiver ran through her. He was responsible for giving her that thrill. Him. Fumbling, awkward Daryl Dixon had just made a woman quiver, and that response from her turned him on. He wondered what it would be like to watch and feel her shimmer under a more intimate touch.
Carol turned her head toward him slightly, the sides of their foreheads touching. "Yeah?" she murmured, a smile still curving those lips of hers.
Realising that he was guilty of the exact same thing he'd been mentally berating Bob over just seconds before, Daryl decided that perhaps flirtations were a welcome relief in the environment they now inhabited. "Yeah," he smiled, his arm now resting on her opposite shoulder, so he was able to use it to pull her closer still, his arm almost around her neck. "Keep our bed warm for me," he whispered, not daring to look right at her. "You know, with the nights gettin' colder, maybe we should share"
She laughed softly, "Oh, I heard it's gonna be bitter from tomorrow night. So bunking up is the sensible thing to do." She turned, arched an eyebrow and attempted to look serious, "But I'll still be wearing some of those pyjamas you're gonna bring back." She gently punched his shoulder, "You see about getting yourself a pair too. Last thing we want is you to be cold of a night." With that she smirked, and set off walking away from him across the courtyard to the awaiting laundry.
He watched her go, groaning to himself at the view of her ass and how she could tie him up in excited knots with just words.
If they were sharing a bed, Daryl knew he'd be more than hot under the collar, his feelings for that woman could heat the entire prison.
Hours later, Daryl killed the bike's engine near a hedgerow on the road which led to South View Mall.
The group had decided that the noise from the bike may alert any hostiles who may be sheltering in the complex, so it was hidden in amongst the leaves while Daryl hitched a ride in the truck driven by Rick the rest of the way. Michonne sat between them in the cab, with Bob and Sasha following behind in their own vehicle.
The inside of the truck was silent as the three friends scanned the area they drove through for signs of life, or as was the case now, reanimated death. Walkers could be disposed of methodically, it was the living that now posed the more significant danger.
They navigated the parking lot of the mall, remains of decaying bodies scattered around, the wind casually blowing litter amongst body parts and debris. There sat a number of abandoned cars and one ambulance, it's back doors open and swinging with an ominous creak. One SUV sat crushed up against the side of the building. It had obviously been used as a ram to try to access a loading bay without success, it's front end dented and squashed, the metal door of the store still intact.
Rick slowed as he neared the main entrance, eventually coming to a stop. After applying the handbrake, he turned to his passengers, his right arm casually resting on the steering wheel.
"Looks promising," he said, his eyes still scanning the landscape as the truck carrying Bob and Sasha pulled up alongside them.
Michonne sighed, "You've gone and done it now, Rick."
"What?" questioned Rick, casting a puzzled look at her and then Daryl.
Daryl groaned, "Don' listen to her man." He shook his head, "She got this crazy idea that if you say anythin' too optimistic before goin' inside anyplace, or doin' anythin' out here, it'll go wrong."
Michonne crossed her arms, "You can never be too careful out here, Dixon."
"Yeah, but these superstitions of yours are damned crazy," Daryl peered round his friend and raised his eyebrows at Rick before adding conspiratorially, "Women."
Rick grinned, "It'll be fine, I'm here." He patted Michonne's thigh and lingered slightly too long, a gesture which did not go unnoticed by anyone in the cab.
Rick cleared his throat and made to exit the truck, trying to avoid the awkwardness of that moment.
Michonne had been stunned for a second but quickly recovered and followed Rick out of the driver's side.
Daryl smirked to himself a little and shoved open the passenger door, he had suspected their leader was developing a soft spot for the badass samurai. Maybe if things developed between those two, the focus of attention from the others would slip away from himself and Carol.
They all gathered their weapons from the trucks and prepared themselves, Sasha carrying a M24 rifle with a scope due to the fact that she was an excellent shot. The rest had knives and hand guns, Daryl with his trademark crossbow. After some whispered deliberation, they decided to use their usual circle formation to enter the building, which gave them maximum vantage points and had everyone covered.
Once the group was in position with their bags on their backs and their senses in high alert, they moved steadily up the three stone steps which led to the main entrance of the mall. Revolving glass doors had been presumably shot through, and two sets of automatic doors sat either side, which were also shattered. Metal shutters hung down from the inside of the entrance, but they had been wrenched, shot at and prised up to allow access.
Rick and Daryl stepped through the door frame first, the group as a whole moved silently, hyper aware of the possible dangers. Only Rick had not been on the run which resulted in Zack's injury, the rest were only too familiar with how quickly a seemingly mundane trip could turn life threatening.
They were all stood in their formation inside the entrance of the mall, which before the fall of the world, would have been a hive of activity.
There was little they could do but take in the destruction which had taken place here. Two huge escalators dominated the main hall, with battered glass elevators either side, route finders and information boards had been vandalised, smashed up, shot and burned. Litter, dirt, pools of fetid water mingled around on the tiled floor. The glass panels on the roof above them had been shot through, thus the amount of rainwater they were currently standing in.
Worse still was the smell, made more potent by the number of rotten corpses, the innards and blood spread across the walls and by the broken shells of walkers who hadn't been put down effectively, which lay decomposing in the water. A number of decapitated heads gnashed their teeth, the sound jarring against the otherwise silence.
Three separate areas led off from the main hall, shops, outlets and eateries spanning two floors, all interspaced with elevators and escalators at regular intervals.
There were signs hanging on stone pillars which indicated directions for well known stores, Daryl nudged Rick and they surveyed them to determine the best route to take. Rick nodded his head for them to take the east route first, it led to large department store, a baby shop which would likely hold items for Judith, as well as a number of restaurants and a chemist; their priorities were always food and medicine.
Once at the east wing, Rick made some noise by further smashing an already partly shattered store window.
They waited, Daryl eyeing the display in the window his friend had just destroyed. A small stuffed panda toy lay on its side, surprisingly clear of any shards of glass. While the others were studying the shadows around them, he reached in and swiped up the cuddly animal, a hint of a smile on his lips, and shoved it in his inner coat pocket. He'd say it was for Judith of course, but give it to Carol for safe keeping; the panda's blue eyes were almost the same shade as hers.
Navigating carefully after waiting for any movement, the five of them made their way towards the shops which may be of best use to them. As they moved onward, nesting birds fluttered around the ceiling and the only other sound was the breathing of the group. Although the temperature had dropped outside, Daryl could feel sweat prickling his scalp, one look at Rick showed the sheriff's hair glistening with moisture. An uneasy sensation of being watched had settled over the hunter. His ears strained to pick up the merest rustle of an alien sound but he failed to pinpoint any suspicious movement or even any shift in atmosphere.
While tracking prey, Daryl had become an expert in sensing the presence of life, simply by almost telepathically 'reading' the air around him. His fingers tingled with an anxious energy, and he could feel the wariness of Rick beside him.
They had arrived at the baby goods store, coming to a halt at the door whose glass panels remained in tact. Daryl scanned the area fully, the hallways around were still covered in litter, leaves and standing water a couple of inches deep. He raised his head, the upper level had metal railings which looked down onto the area below, most of his view was in shadow, the waning winter sun having moved westwards over the course of the day. He tensed as he thought he caught a ghost of movement a distance away from the balcony, freezing completely, even holding his breath for a few seconds. Shaking his head, he decided that perhaps his imagination was running away with him, his unease creating monsters in the darkness.
Rick tried the door to the shop and found it unlocked, which was odd, but it wasn't uncommon to find houses and buildings unsecured. The end of the old world had arrived at varying times for most of the population. Rick turned and motioned to Sasha, who moved to the head of the group and raised her rifle, the rest covering her. She entered the gloomy store, with Bob to her left, who headed to the cash register and rang the old fashioned bell sitting on the desk. They waited.
Nothing approached, no snarling or moaning came from the bowels of the outlet. Sasha swept the room with her eye on the scope, methodically but with speed. She nodded her head and turned to the rest.
"I'll stand watch at the door," she whispered and headed back the way they came. Rick pulled a list from his pocket and squinted at it in the minimal light they had, before setting off to locate the items he needed.
Michonne had found herself near the baby cribs and she stood sadly running her hand over a dust covered yellow mobile hanging from the ceiling. She turned and saw Daryl watching her. She spun away from his gaze. He was unaware that she had lost her own little one a while before she found the group, but he recognised loss when he saw it. He inclined his head a fraction before moving off down an aisle holding childhood illness remedies, swiping most of them into a bag, thus missing his friend attempting to compose herself.
Five minutes later, the hunter was staring at a selection of children's books, one in particular stood out; the title read 'One Word from Sophia' in colourful letters, a picture of a young girl and a giraffe on the cover. He sighed and ran a finger down the spine, closing his eyes to erase the memory which bubbled up in his mind. The book next to it was called 'Guess How Much I Love You' and Daryl picked it up, the illustrations more sedate in colouring to the others. It was a small book made of board, but after flipping to the opening page, he decided to slip that into the small front pocket of his bag.
Bob had moved to watch the entrance of the store with Sasha, eager to be around her, as Michonne, who had gathered herself, was loading formula into a shopping cart.
Rick strolled down the main aisle having raided the clothing section as well as stocking up on fleece blankets. Daryl returned to the shelves holding the natural remedies and picked up boxes of teething powder which Carol had mentioned in passing the previous morning. Although Judith was still young, Daryl had been amazed to learn that she could begin teething soon and that the process could be painful for everyone. These powders promised to ease pain and settle upset stomachs.
Rick approached, "I think we got everythin' we can in here."
Daryl nodded, securing his backpack on both shoulders.
"Lets check out the kitchens of the restaurants and fast food joints, if we grab another shopping cart we can load big items in them and wheel them out to the trucks," suggested Rick, to which Daryl agreed. The latter felt uncomfortable in this mall, and wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, whether it was that the place seemed too empty and abandoned to be true or if it was the feeling of being watched, he couldn't tell.
Rick signalled to the others and they gathered together in a line formation. Leaving the baby store as quietly as they had entered, they were once again out and heading toward a burger bar further along the strip.
Michonne's shopping cart had a squeaky wheel and she cringed each time it sounded, casting apologetic looks to her friends.
Sasha alternated between scanning the area in front of them and turning to check the rear.
The burger place had been originally designed with a retro 1950s theme but now had a film of dirt and dust over it.
Daryl approached a large window and rubbed at the intact glass to peer inside. A walker hit the window with force, splattering blood and skin against it and making the hunter jump in shock. He grimaced at the creature and moved further along to examine the inside more.
"Think there's just the one in there," he observed softly, speaking over his shoulder. He turned to the rest, "Sasha, you stand guard out here, we'll go in and grab anythin' half decent." Looking to Rick, he added, "That ok with you?"
The sheriff smiled and placed a hand on his friend's broad shoulder, "Hey," he replied, keeping his tone hushed, "You're the expert on runs now, I follow your lead."Daryl inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment and Sasha moved to peer up and down the hallways. The rest of the group drew their knives in anticipation of there being more than one walker inside.
Daryl pulled at the main door, found that it was also unlocked and on the count of three, they burst inside, the sheriff hurrying over to the dead one and putting it down in seconds. Rick looked round the place as the hunter began kicking fallen chairs around, the movement causing maximum noise.
The inside of the restaurant was as grime ridden as the rest of the mall, the smell of decay, either from spoiled meat or rotten flesh made the groups eyes water.
A walker emerged from an area Daryl assumed was the kitchen; it wore a soiled standard issue fast food worker uniform, half of its face hanging from its skull under a jauntily positioned baseball cap. Daryl raised his bow and shot it through it's only eye, the left one was missing and the thing flew backwards against a metal frying machine. Daryl moved across to Rick.
"You think we're gonna find anything decent in here?" Daryl enquired, his eyes roaming the room, taking in the state of the place. "I'd say it's been cleared long ago."Rick shrugged, "I told Carol we'd check anywhere that has cooking facilities. I'll go quickly scan the kitchen, just in case." With that he took off further into the darkness at the back of the restaurant.
Daryl sighed, this trip was beginning to have a more ominous air to it, and that wasn't just the stench of death swirling around them.
"You seem kinda unenthused," Michonne's voice came from behind him. She appeared at his side and he took a moment to appreciate her stealth; he hadn't sensed her approach.
They were near to the serving counter and Daryl wished he had his cigarettes on him. They were currently sitting in the pouch on his bike a distance away from this place, and that was doing nothing to sedate his apprehension. He leaned against the counter and gave a small smile.
"Hard to be enthused when you're in the fuckin' burger joint from hell," Daryl observed, "Feels like we ain't gonna find nothin' worth anythin' here."
Michonne smiled, "Ah, but as Glenn often says, the first rule of scavenging is that everything has its uses."
Daryl snorted, "He don't say that."
"Maybe not," Michonne shrugged, "But he probably would if he were here. Look, there's a department store at the end of this strip, we'll head there next and see if we can stock up on winter clothes. I got a list off Carol." She pulled a folded sheet of paper from the back pocket of her jeans.
"You did?" asked Daryl, "I did too. She must really want those damned pyjamas." A smile played at his mouth.
"Think how happy she'll be if we bring back more than enough for everyone," whispered Michonne, "She's so worried about the Woodbury kids and old folks getting cold. Finding this stuff would put her mind at ease." She cast a glance at her friend, who had folded his arms across his chest and was leaning his lower back against the counter, chewing at his lips. "Enthused?" she asked.
Daryl rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Maybe," he replied. His mind's eye was imagining Carol's happy smile if he rolled back to the prison with the clothing and blankets she wanted.
Michonne flashed him a grin as though she knew exactly the scene which was playing out in his head.
Rick emerged, carrying some packages and the shirt covering his left shoulder was covered in blood.
Michonne hurried over to him, checking if he was hurt.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," soothed Rick, continuing his pace, "Just took down an old, fat walker. It got messy," he held up the items he was carrying, "I got a good amount of charcoal, some batteries, put dome oil in my pack and they had this box of church candles, which is kinda weird but that's all there was. Back door to this place is hanging open. There are fields behind the mall, any Walkers or people passing by could just wander in. I say we move on."
Daryl and Michonne nodded in agreement as Rick placed the boxes he held in the shopping cart. The three of them headed out and were not surprised to find Bob at Sasha's side again.
Daryl felt a flare of irritation. Could the guy not stick to a task for five minutes without having to seek that woman out? The irritation gave way to a hint of empathy, he was possibly just as guilty as Bob for having a woman on the brain, he had been pulled towards Carol, right from the Atlanta Camp. Maybe the others had been regularly pissed at him for following her around. Even at the CDC, he'd gravitated toward her and Sophia, too inept and shy to strike up a decent conversation or excuse to get across to them that he cared. Now Sophia would never know, he'd always been the grouchy, dangerous redneck around her, and it saddened him because he was sure she'd have turned out to be her mother's daughter.
They gathered together and began their walk down to the large department store which was at the end of the strip of shops. On one side of the walkway was all of the store fronts, running down the middle was sets of benches, each set of two with their backs to each other, and huge pots of what had once been wild flowers interspersed them. The other side of the corridor had more shops and each end met at the entrance to the three storey building they now stood looking at.
Daryl caught a movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see a large rat jump from one of the flower pots and scurry away before he could shoot it. Sasha followed his gaze and shuddered.
The store before them had all of its thick glass windows shot out, nuggets of debris littering the wet ground like fallen stars. Displays which had been in those windows were covered in glass, dirt and rubbish, pushed aside so that previous visitors here could enter the building without using the traditional entrance. The shutters across the main doors had been wrenched up like those outside, not before guns had been used to puncture holes in it.
Daryl held his right hand up and moved slowly toward the window to the left of the doors. There was a partial sneaker footprint entering the store on the inner wooden floor of the display area and it was fresh. He motioned Rick over and pointed it out. The sheriff nodded his understanding and pulled out his weapon, Bob following suit and Michonne unsheathed her katana.
Leaving their carts behind one of the flower displays, after a short debate, the group decided to creep into the building by navigating under the shutters which stood open up to hip height. Rick went under first, followed by Michonne, then Daryl and Bob before Sasha lowered her scope and entered last.
Inside was dark and Rick and Daryl reached for their flashlights, while keeping their weapons of choice ready. They were amongst the gift section, although all shelving and display units had been destroyed. As they made their way through the mess, the beauty department loomed, also completely ruined.
Daryl noticed graffiti on the wall to the left of them, sprawling words in red spray paint, "Trap", "Turn back", and "Nothing here" were daubed on the white space at intervals. He nudged Rick and indicated towards it with his head. Rick raised his eyebrows and studied the words.
Rick leaned in closer to Daryl, "Could just be kids messing around," he murmured, rubbing his sweaty forehead with the back of his forearm.
"Mmmm," muttered Daryl in reply. The feeling of unease had gathered a few pounds and sat heavily on his shoulders.
"Let's keep our eyes and ears open," Rick advised, as Michonne approached, taking in the messages on the wall, "We stay together, no one goes off trying to be a hero."He caught the attention of Bob and Sasha and they gathered together, the multiple displays of the beauty hall in front of them.
A mounted sign on a pillar to the right of the escalator advised that ladies wear was situated on the next floor up, along with menswear. Children's wear was up on the second floor next to homewares, so they began to climb with Sasha at the rear, rifle raised.
Their heavy hiking boots made hollow metallic thuds as they tried to move as stealthily as possible, but they made it up to the next level without incident.
Though none of them vocalised it, the feeling that they had stumbled into a kind of haunted house had settled over each member of the team, Daryl almost felt as though he was in that Alien movie Merle had made him watch years ago. That at any moment some hideous nightmare imagining was going to burst out of the darkness, all that was missing was the suspenseful music in the background.
Michonne dismissed her sense of foreboding and took the lead amongst the women's clothes, opening her pack and filling it with garments. Rick, Daryl and Bob stood watch and Sasha moved amongst the aisles, rifle in hand, knife in the other, prepared for any emerging Walkers. Once Daryl's pack was filled with clothes, they decided to move up to children's wear to gather items for the older kids, and to check out homewares for more throws and blankets.
Again, they mounted the steel steps in a line, Rick in front, gun drawn, then Daryl with this bow at the ready, followed by the others. It was even darker on this level, their flashlights mere pinpricks in the stifling blackness.
Once at the top, Michonne picked out a sign hanging from the ceiling which indicated that they were in the kids section. Daryl placed his flashlight in his mouth and aimed it at the ground so that he spread some light there, lest they stumbled over any objects or dead bodies.
Rick whispered to Michonne and Daryl that he and Bob would head to the home section further to the back of the store, while he asked Sasha to stay on guard and sweep the area.
The group set about their tasks, Michonne once again seeming to know exactly which items to go for. Daryl stood near her, handing over his pack and placing his weapon down on a display unit.
He took his flashlight and surveyed the tiled floor, running the beam of light over each square. His pattern stopped for a moment. The floor was by no means clean, but he had spotted a partial footprint like the one downstairs in the window, also fresh. He heard Michonne behind him clipping his bag shut and shoving it across the unit to him.
Putting the flashlight back into his mouth, he placed the straps of the pack back on his shoulders, keeping the beam of light on the print, deciding that it looked on the small side to be from the foot of an adult male.
"Daryl," Rick's voice rang out from the back of the store. He was attempting to sound neutral, but there was an edge to it.
Looking round for Michonne, the hunter motioned for her to follow him, raising his bow as she readied her sword. Sasha began to approach from her vantage point near the top of the escalator, also catching the trepidation in their leader's tone.
Daryl reached Rick first, looking at the sheriff, who stood in front of a camping display. Rick turned to look at Daryl and Michonne, and he inclined his head towards the display. Around the plastic camp fire set up was a number of candy wrappers, opened tins of food and bottles of water. A small camping stove sat near the opened cans, with a China plate atop it.
Rick's flashlight scanned around the immediate area, the aisles behind the display held camping equipment and outdoor gear.
Leaning down, Daryl studied the rubbish, ran his hand around the stove and also examined the plastic grass upon which two four man tents sat. The insides of both looked to be lived in, with crumpled sleeping bags and more candy wrappers inside. There, just outside of the left hand side tent, was another dirty footprint, the grime more than likely coming from the main floors of the mall, with their filth and standing rainwater.
"It's all recent," Daryl muttered to Rick, keeping his voice low.
The group scanned the area, straining their ears in the darkness. Minutes passed. Rick turned to leave, placing his gun back in its holster but as he did so, a hint of a sound came from further behind the fake camping display. Daryl could have sworn it was a smothered sneeze.
The group looked at each other. Rick grabbed his gun again and motioned with his head that they should advance in the direction of the noise.
The walked down the aisles, Daryl down one side with Michonne following and Rick down the adjacent one, Bob to his rear. Sasha stood at the camping display a moment longer before heading to join the rest of them, who had reached a cash desk, which held three registers.
The stand itself was covered with a dust sheet, as though the area had been subject to renovations before everything changed forever. Behind the tills, to the the right stood a cupboard in the wall with the door closed, although they all heard a muffled "Sshhh!" coming from inside.
Rick took a deep breath after looking to the others and receiving a nod from Daryl. He moved to the side of the desk and made his way to the closed door. The sheriff's hand closed around the knob and was about to turn it when the dust sheet which covered the tills and floor behind them was pulled aside by someone hiding beneath it.
The rest of the group brandished their weapons at the stranger, and Rick, who had his back to them all, began to slowly turn around.
"Wait!!" shouted the voice, "We're no threat or danger, please, do not open that door!"Rick faced the owner of the voice, his mouth fell open as he regarded the man who had his hands raised in surrender before him, "M-Morgan?!"