Chapter Twelve
Third Person POV
Later that morning...
Rick and Daryl hurried across the debris-filled pavement towards the baby supply store. Overturned carts and garbage littered the area but they maneuvered around such obstacles with engrained ease.
Daryl lead the way with his crossbow raised and ready to fire at the first sight of a walker; Rick following closely and checking their flanks while they moved.
They approached the front of the store and pressed their backs against the painted brick wall. Rick waited until he had Daryl's gaze before giving him a quick nod, indicating for Daryl to proceed.
Daryl nodded to show he understood, licking briefly over his white teeth as he peered beyond the glass window, squinting against the darkness inside of the store and not seeing any visible walkers.
The hunter lifted his weapon higher and Rick moved in front of him, slowly pulling open the glass door.
Once he had enough room, the former police officer raised his free arm and clasped his hand around the overhanging bell that would have sounded by the door opening.
Daryl resumed leading as he carefully squeezed passed Rick, his keen eyes immediately taking in and assessing his new surroundings.
The inside of the store was larger than one would assume looking from the outside, most of the inventory looking untouched as tiny baby clothes still hung neatly on racks and toys were lined up on shelves.
Rick stepped to Daryl's side, both remaining quiet for just a moment more; listening.
Nothing.
There was absolutely no noise.
A good sign.
"Alright...just because it's quiet doesn't mean things can't get ugly," Rick whispered to Daryl by his side, the archer slowly lowering his crossbow while they continued to survey the expansive area, "...and we'll probably need to make a few trips out to the car to load everything."
"Hn,"the redneck understood and agreed, already spotting large boxes that contained parts to assemble cribs, changing tables, and feeding seats that were about as tall as he was.
"Okay...you go right, I'll take the left and be sure to watch your back," Rick concluded his instructions before lifting his handgun out in front of him again and beginning his trek to his side.
Daryl had already been informed about a few key things that they needed to find first, anything else being lower priority, and he replayed that information in his brain while he took his time and walked further into his section of the store.
Still, no other sound was present...but Daryl did not exactly believe in good luck either.
The hunter swallowed down some spit and kept moving, feeling a bit out of place being in a store like this, but Daryl quickly pushed aside his discomfort at looking at stuffed elephants and giraffes.
This was for Rick's baby when he or she arrived.
This was for that little piece of hope to remain healthy and strong for them all to share.
The youngest Dixon brother heard the dull scrape of Rick's boots as he, no doubt, hauled out their first load to the car, prompting him to pick up his own pace.
Holding his crossbow in one hand, Daryl grunted as he stooped low and hoisted up the lengthy box that was labeled as being a crib for newborns, practically tossing the weight of it on a shoulder.
A quick glance to his left, but he did not see Rick.
Daryl sucked in some air and then hurried to the door, cringing a bit once he heard the loose parts inside the box make too much noise from being jostled.
Suddenly, he heard it – that unmistakeable growl following him.
"Shit..." Daryl muttered aloud as he flung open the door and broke out into a sprint towards the car, hearing more and more walkers coming up from behind him.
"Must've been behind the damn building the whole time..." he guessed the walkers' whereabouts, simultaneously hating how he still could not spot Rick Grimes anywhere.
A handful of walkers came into view from around their parked car, causing Daryl to stop running and set down the heavy box.
The crossbow was lifted with practiced ease and Daryl fired off a bolt that sunk right in between the lifeless eyes of the closest walker, dropping it immediately.
Daryl yanked a new arrow from the attached holder and blitzed forward, stabbing the sharpened end of it through the temple of the next walker.
Having the tiniest free moment before the next one got too close, Daryl reloaded the sullied bolt into the crossbow.
With a growl, the hunter slammed the solid butt of the crossbow across the next walker's face, tearing off several blackened chunks that splattered onto the pavement, before he hoisted the blunt weight of his weapon back up and took aim.
"Daryl! Over here!" a much-needed voice finally sounded above all the bloodthirsty snarling, prompting said man to whip his dark brown head around towards the caller of his name.
Rick Grimes was still inside the store, currently holding the doors closed and blocking four walkers from entering in after him.
Daryl raced towards the former cop, forgetting about the box on the ground and their car, and uncaring of the outnumbering walkers that he was getting ready to face head-on.
Daryl's breath was starting to leave him in quick bursts but he still couldn't bring himself to consider much else than being by Rick's side as fast as his feet could carry him.
In his peripheral vision, the hunter could see more walkers start to emerge from the far sides of the store, slowly making their way towards the commotion, but Daryl kept charging forward.
He fired a quick shot, killing one by the door and watched as Rick used the momentum to open the cracking glass door just enough to where he could drive his knife through the eye of another.
Daryl hurried, knowing that that trick might not work again with those doors looking the way they did, as he also drew his long buck knife from the holster on his hip.
The crossbow was lowered as Daryl used all of his might to slash a walker right through his skull, Rick kicking the last one down and away from them both and quickly killing it with a fast stab with his knife.
Daryl was suddenly pulled back into the store by the scruff of his leather jacket, catching him by surprise that easily settled once he realized that Rick had done it.
He caught his breath while the former cop barricaded the glass doors with several solid wood tables and dressers that he had upturned - their view of any approaching walkers as well as most of their sunlight being blotted out in the process.
Flecks of sunlight sufficed to let Daryl see most of the shapes of things around him – his eyes glued onto Rick's form while he worked.
"Get to the back! Make sure there aren't any openings!" Rick called out to him, looking at the hunter from over his shoulder.
Wordlessly, Daryl turned on the heel of his boots and raced towards the back of the store, being weary to dodge anything in his way despite the scarce light he had to work with, his hands adjusting the hold he had on the heavy crossbow.
The light was even worse once he passed through the 'employee only' doors, prompting Daryl to click on his small flashlight and put it in his mouth while he slowly padded his way passed high-reaching metal shelves and crates that kept extra inventory.
Two doors.
One looked like it led to a break room and office on the left while the other had to be the rear fire exit.= to his right.
Daryl's teeth clicked lightly on the black plastic of the flashlight in between his lips while he weighed his options and then carefully made his way towards the office.
The hunter knew he needed to secure all areas inside the building before checking outside, so nothing could come up behind him.
Daryl silently sprang in front of the opened doorway to the break room, crossbow moving to where his eyes did.
Snacks.
The vending machines were full of little packages of chips, cookies, and other treats.
Daryl could practically feel his mouth water just looking at all the brightly colored packages of addictive snack food that lit up once his flashlight passed over them.
He walked by a few long tables and chairs, papers covering much of the tiled floor below, until he could poke his messy brown head inside the adjacent office.
Nothing.
There was no threat inside the tiny manager's office and Daryl breathed a bit easier as a result.
Hurrying this time, Daryl turned around and jogged out of the office and break room, reminding himself to tell Rick about the many snacks there all the while, and did not stop until he had rounded the corner and faced the other door he had spotted.
He knew he needed to get back to Rick as soon as possible; feeling as if too much time had passed and Daryl was starting to get worried as to why said man had not joined him in this part of the building already.
Surely, Rick had been able to secure the front set of doors and was on his way now...right?
Daryl gave his head a little shake to stop those kinds of thoughts from becoming too overwhelming as he gripped his high-powered weapon higher and then angrily kicked the fire exit door.
The door clamored open, obviously having been opened only a few times ever, and Daryl's hazel eyes were full of walkers that stopped mindlessly wandering in the lot behind the building and snapped their evil gaze towards him.
Letting his frustration get the better of him, Daryl rushed towards the first walker, swinging his crossbow and slamming it across the first one's decaying face.
"Come on!" Daryl barked furiously, hating how Rick was not at his side, hating how they had gotten separated, as he kicked his boot square into the chest of another walker, sending it flying backwards.
"Can't none a'yall do any better?!" Daryl continued to vent, this time pulling his knife free and turning the handle around in his palm.
Daryl gripped the familiar weight of the knife handle tightly, eyes moving dangerously amongst the approaching walkers...not seeing the dismembered torso of another slowly crawling up behind him on the ground, leaving a trail of dark red streaks against the grey.
Daryl stepped forward and plunged the knife inside the skull of the closest walker, not being able to yank it back out in the first go, which delayed his reaction.
Suddenly, a hand closed around his ankle, the fingers squeezing too much but were holding mostly onto his boot and pulled with frenzied movements.
"F-fuck...!" Daryl hollered in between grit teeth as he was violently forced down to the ground by the half-walker currently pulling on his leg, the redneck feeling a sharp pain shoot through the side of his ankle in the process.
The hunter planted his palms on the gritty pavement and kicked the moving torso three brutal times in the head until it let go of his leg, satisfied that that walker's face had become a bloody crater when he had been done with it.
Daryl only spared a moment to look up from his position on the ground but he could see two, three, four more walkers that were already too close, being practically on top of him.
"Daryl! Move! Now!"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Daryl had not realized just when his shoulders had bunched up the way that they had, but he felt himself relax as he watched three walkers drop motionlessly down to the ground in front of him.
Long, jean-clad legs and scuffed-up brown boots filled his vision as Rick maneuvered in front of him and smashed the butt of his handgun into the fourth walker's brain, making gooey chunks and strings fly through the air around him.
Daryl got to his feet and rearranged the crossbow to be in one hand, his eyes drinking in the hard lines of Rick's powerful body as he completely demolished the walker's head.
"Rick...!" Daryl called but did not receive a reply.
"Rick! Come on, man...we gotta get back inside!" Daryl tried again, this time gaining Rick's attention as the former police officer finally finished pummeling that one walker, several more were moving in their direction due to the sounds of the gunshots.
Rick was breathing hard, a few more blood spots decorating his white shirt and jacket, as he marched back towards the building, taking hold of Daryl's free arm and not stopping until they both had passed through the door.
"Jesus, man...I didn't..." Daryl had started to say, but was suddenly cut off as chapped, cotton-soft lips pushed against his own with such meaning behind them that it made the hunter drop his knife onto the floor of the store.
Rick either did not hear the noisy clang of Daryl's buck knife hitting the floor or did not care, as he twisted his fingers around the redneck's shirt collar to keep him close while they kissed.
Rick loved that he could feel as Daryl practically melted where he stood, his tension seeming to drain downward from his whole body as he gave more and more of himself over to Rick's commanding lips.
However, Rick separated their lips but only just so he may speak to the hunter.
"I almost lost you...just now..." Rick stated too sharply, a certain ferocity coming through his voice the more he spoke, "...when I saw you out there with those walkers about to..."
"...but I'm..." Daryl tried to speak around how utterly dumbfounded he was in this moment, his lovely eyes looking anywhere but Rick's strong gaze, "...I'm alright...I mean uh..."
Fingers snaked up the back of the hunter's neck and curled around long, dark brown tresses, halting Daryl's every word and thought as Rick now had his full attention.
"How about we stick together from now on? No more splitting up and going separate ways...we stick together," Rick offered levelly, not leaving much room for argument as he nodded his head to his own suggestion, daring Daryl to question him right now.
Daryl swallowed hard, not used to seeing such fire-forged intensity directed at no one else but him.
The hunter nodded his head as well, feeling the action pull some of his hair that was still in Rick's iron grip.
"Good...I think we both will be safer that way," Rick affirmed, releasing his hold on the bewildered redneck before him, as he took a step away and then retrieved a few more bullets from his jacket pocket to load into his handgun, replacing the rounds he had had to use outside.
Daryl listened to the light clinking of ammo being replaced while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling like he should say something to Rick right now... maybe something about how much he liked their kiss...or about the...
"Snacks," the hunter blurted out, immediately regretting how rough and confusing his voice had just sounded as he cleared his throat.