𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

[54]: the power of three

Will peeked a look at her behind.

"You two act like children, I swear to god," Harvey had now retrieved a cigarette, hanging it from his plump dry lips, puffing light dusty smoke into their small space.

"Great," Will was the last to stand, leaning against the metal barring. "We've been here like three days, and prancy Bambi over here has turned it into his personal ashtray."

Harvey, taking after their friend laura, slowly blew out a long drag of smoke, and followed it with his own middle finger.

"Jesus fucking christ."

Laura clapped her hands, then placed them on her hips. She faced the gates. "One thing this pharmacy is good at."

It was a few hours then, of sitting around doing a little under nothing.

There was nothing they could do.

The safety of their fort set an easy fog over them. Where they couldn't do much but breathe. And they'd rather be bored and breathe than have something to do whilst taking their last breath. The numbing attitude they had would put most people out of their minds, but who wasn't out of their minds these days?

Will exited the pharmacy, going through the front door and inspecting the street.

It was vast and empty, no sign of life or death - it was eerily quiet. And Will never really liked the quiet. He had a yearning for loud music and thrashing voices. The apocalypse was his personal hell in the form of lowered volume.

He turned to go back inside, but the warm metal that pressed to the back of his head made his feet stop.

"Stay still," a voice said.

"I kinda got that."

"Don't get smart," another, more impatient and broken voice, spoke. And it paired up with the first face he saw, through the eyesight of a crossbow, the mystery man stared down at him.

More up at him, since will was towering to anyone.

He turned on his heels, bringing his palms to face forward. In a surrendering motion, he looked to the men who had his life in their laps.

Daryl opened the front door, surveying his surrounding as quickly as he could, glancing over his shoulder as Rick still held the gun to the strangers head.

"Drop the crossbow, asshole."

Daryl had obviously not surveyed enough because a gun was now pointed at his own head.

Two others behind the counter, guarded by a large metal rusted fence.

Daryl was too distracted by the twisting in his gut, the feeling of constant paranoia. The paranoia that something was happening to Marley and he wasn't there.

He needed to be there, as much as he hated showing any vulnerability to anyone, he may just crack a seam if he didn't get back to her in time.

He may just...

Rick, Glenn, and the Will joined him in the pharmacy. Their rushing footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

"Will Day, nice to meet you," Will introduced himself, seeming all too calm despite having a gun pressed firmly to his skull.

Will was almost six feet tall, a slicked stylishness to him, a dirty amount of stubble, and large unnerving eyes.

The two behind the counter were his friends.

Laura was slender and slim, her dark hair falling in messy curls. She had tanned skin, and rich, warm, chocolate eyes. They held a welcoming gesture in them, yet seemed to still show off the feel of ice.