Tattoos and motorcycles

3| He deserved it

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They had arrived to Parmus park mall in New Jersey, but unfortunately for them, they were running low on gas, so they were currently looking around the parking lot for any available gas.

"So, what's your name, kid?" Doc asked the mysterious boy that they had picked up not too long ago, turning his face to look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Ten thousand." The boy replied plainly as he kept his eyes on what he was working on, letting out a frustrated sigh once seeing that the car didn't have any gas either.

"That is not a name, that's a number." The older male chuckled as he replied to the plain response, looking back inside of the car to search for other useful things apart from the cigarette he found.

"That's my name. Made it up myself." He looked at another car before shoving a small tube into the gas container, squeezing the pump to see if anything would come out.

"Well, I supposed you have to." Doc paused for a second. "Does it mean anything?"

"How many zombies I'm going to kill." This statement caught Daisuke's attention as he looked over to the young adult along with Doc.

"Well that's a whole lot of zombies!" The oldest out of the three stated before looking facing the car once again.

"Already on 1,055." Daisuke let out a small hum of acknowledgement, knowing that he had killed about twice as much as that, but decided to not say anything about it.

"So, what happens when you reach 10,000?" Daisuke blocked out the rest of the conversation as he stood up from his place on the floor and walked towards the motorcycle that was right in front of him, checking it out before sitting on top of it and connecting the cut wires to the corresponding ones.

"So, what about you, kid? What is your name?" The question made Daisuke look up at the two men who were looking at him, making him realize that the question was aimed at him.

"Daisuke." He replied with an emotionless tone as he stated up the motorcycle, licking his dry lips as he heard the sound of the engine starting up.

"What language is that? Doesn't sound too familiar." Doc asked him as he moved on to the next car available, taking everything useful he could find.

"Japanese. Stands for big help or big mediate. It's a common name in Japan." The Japanese male replied as he turned the motorcycle back off, wanting to save as much gas as possible.

"Really? That's cool. Lets go back to the rest now. All of these are obviously empty." Daisuke and ten thousand agreed as they made their way to the group, standing in front of them before one of the guys from earlier showed up, making the Asian man grip onto the handles of the motorcycle tightly.

"Peace. No bites here. 100 percent alive." The strange man stated as he raised his hands up, allowing Warren to check him for any secret weapons he had on his body.

"What happened to your friend?" Garner asked him as he stood directly in front of him, watching as Warren backed away from the man before throwing his knife on the ground.

"Turns out he had other friends of low morals. Took my ride. Horse thieves should be shot." He stated before Cassandra chose to speak up from behind the group, "you should choose better friends."

"Good advice.." the way the man looked at Cassandra and hesitated made Daisuke narrow his eyes at the interaction, suspecting that he recognized her from somewhere, which could be either a good or bad thing.

By now, most of Daisuke's attention was on Cassandra, having seen the glare she was pointing at the man that had popped out of nowhere the whole time. He decided to get closer to her, planting his foot beside her so he wouldn't fall to the touch ground and harm himself, seeing as he was still on the motorcycle.