Surviving .:Daryl Dixon:. {Wattys2015}

Chapter 7: Strategy

Author's Note: (This will be deleted) Excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes. I kind of got lazy to edit. Plus, I've been wanting this chapter out.

This was an extremely long update. I've been under so much stress, you know, the usual.

Plus, I had to let go of someone for their sake of happiness. Most of you won't understand what that meant. XD. Anyway, I'm a whole lot better and much stronger now.

However, I do want to say: whatever trouble you're going through, you're strong. I know you're strong. You're all beautiful, strong, feisty souls. Don't ever give up. I won't allow you to.

***

Glenn paced around the room as he picked up items. He rummaged through the drawers of the desks.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I set down the hatchet onto the desk.

"You'll see," he said quickly while he was glancing around the room.

I breathed out and waited for anybody else to speak. I looked down towards my old boots, the front toes were scratched and beat up. It was beginning to rip, holes would soon appear.

Glenn brushed past me and quickly grabbed something next to me.

I gave him a questionable look and he lifted his hand to reveal a dry-erase marker. I nodded in understanding, which I really didn't know what he was going to do and what he was up to.

He slowly got onto his knees and cleared the ground. He took off the lid of the pen and started to draw uneven boxes. I furrowed my eyebrows and walked nearer to see what he was doing. He crumpled up a sticky note, grabbed a paper clip, some old eraser, and blue wrapper.

"Hear me out," he said after positioning the objects. He began to explain a strategy. After he was finished, he waited to hear Rick's approval. I lowered myself to the floor, getting some rest onto my feet before we started running again to any place. And this plan looked like it involved a lot of running.

"You're not doing this alone," Rick finally spoke. He had both of his hands on his hips, wiping sweat off his nose as he stared at Glenn.

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much," Daryl said, hands on knees as he watched Glenn also.

"It's a good idea, okay?" he said as he looked up, "if you just hear me out." Rick slowly nodded and lowered himself to the floor. "If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention," Glenn said, speaking like an expert. "If I'm alone, I can move fast." Glenn looked them in the eyes, trying to convince them.

I breathed out, redoing my messy bun and kept listening intently.

"Look." Glenn pointed to the giant paper clip. "That's the tank." He grabbed it and settled it between two unevenly drawn rectangles. "Five blocks from where we are now." He grabbed the crumpled up sticky note and set it beside it. "That's the bag of guns." He looked at us and pointed to another side of the drawn rectangle. "Here's the alley I dragged you into when the first met," Glenn explained, "that's where Daryl and I will go."

"Why me?" Daryl asked.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun."

Glenn grabbed a wrapper. "Daryl waits here in the alley as I run up and get the bag." He looked at Rick, who was studying the strategy.

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick asked.

"You and T-Dog and Arrie, right," Glenn said and quickly grabbed the old eraser and set it away, two boxes away. "You'll be in this alley here."