I stood behind the bar with Glenn, keeping one hand on one of my guns, the other wrapped around my machete. The men sat down, pouring drinks. "I'm Dave." The skinny one introduced. He pointed at the heavier man at the bar, who was eying me with a look I knew too well. "That scrawny looking douchebag there is Tony."
Tony chuckled. "Eat me, Dave."
"Hey, maybe someday I will." I wasn't sure if he was joking. "We met on I-95 coming out of Philly. Damn shit-show that was."
Everyone was silent, except for Glenn, of course. "I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people."
"Rick Grimes." I said nothing.
"How about you two? Have one?"
"I just quit." Hershel said.
"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend."
"His name's Hershel. He lost people today, a lot of them." Rick spoke.
"I'm truly sorry to hear that. To better days and new friends. And to our dead, may they be in a better place." They all drank, Glenn hesitating only slightly.
Dave looked at me, noticing my hands on my weapons. "We aren't gonna hurt you, especially not when you're packing like that." He pointed at my machete, knife, and my three guns.
I didn't respond, only narrowing my eyes. "She's had it rough. She's got trust issues." Rick answered for me, eyeing Dave's piece tucked into his belt.
"Not bad, huh?" Dave pulled it out, showing Rick. "I got it off a cop." I watched Rick tense, his face hardening.
"I'm a cop."
Dave holstered his gun. "This one was already dead." His chuckle made that hard to believe. Rick's head was cocked to the side, a tell that he didn't trust these guys and neither should we.
"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia." Ricks voice was low, seemingly dangerous.
"It feels like we're a long way from anywhere."
"Well, what drove you south?" Rick asked.
Dave smiled. "Well, I can tell you it wasn't the weather. I must've dropped 30 pounds in sweat alone down here."
"I wish." Tony commented.
"No, first it was D.C. I heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were jammed, we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing."
"One guy told us there was the Coast Guard sitting in the Gulf sending ferries to the islands."
"The latest was a rail yard in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country, Kansas, Nebraska."
"Nebraska?" Glenn asked, confused.
"Low population, lots of guns."
"Kinda makes sense."
"Ever been to Nebraska, kid?" Glenn shook his head. "A reason they call 'em flyover states." They chuckled and I noticed the hesitation in Dave's look before he spoke again. "How about you guys?"
"Fort Benning, eventually." Rick said, lying through his teeth.
Dave shook his head. "I hate to piss in your cornflakes, officer, but...we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning. He said the place was overrun by Lamebrains."
Glenn's face fell. "What, Fort Benning is gone, are you for real?"
"Sadly, I am. Oddly, the truth is there is no way out of this mess. Just keep going from one pipe dream to the next, praying one of these mindless freaks doesn't grad ahold of you when you sleep."
"If you sleep."
Dave looked around. "Yeah, it doesn't look like you guys are hanging your hats here." My hands tightened around my weapons. "You holed up somewhere else?"
I shared a look with Rick, nodding to him that I was ready in case things went south. "Not really."
"Those your cars out front?"
"Yeah, why?" Glenn asked.
Dave shrugged. "We're living in ours. Those look kinda empty, clean. Where's all your gear?"
Hershel finally spoke. "We're with a larger group, out scouting, thought we could use a drink."
Dave smiled. "A drink? Hershel, I thought you quit." No response. I unholstered one gun, keeping it at my side with my machete in the other. "Well, we're thinking of setting up around here. Is it, is it safe?"
Glenn still didn't seem to understand. "It can be. Although I have killed a couple of walkers around here." His speech slowed when we looked at him and I nudged him with my foot.
"Walkers? That what you call them?"
"Yeah."
"That's good. I like that better than lamebrains."
"More succinct." Tony added. Shocking vocabulary.
"Okay, Tony went to college." Dave smiled.
"Two years."
The air was thick enough to cut it with a knife as Dave broke the silence. "So what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something? That new development?"
"Trailer park or something? A farm?" Tony asked as he stood and walked over to a wall, unzipping his pants.
Dave sang Old McDonald, trying to get a reaction. "You got a farm?" Rick was quiet, which was apparently answer enough. "Is it safe? It's gotta be. You got food, water?"
"You got cooze? Other than that fine piece of ass right there."
"This 'piece of ass' is taken, asshole." I growled.
Dave sighed. "Listen, pardon my friend. City kids, they got no tact. No disrespect. So listen, Glenn-"
"We've said enough." Rick interrupted.
"Well, hang on a second. This farm, it sounds pretty sweet. Don't it sound sweet, Tony?"
"Yeah, real sweet."
"How about a little Southern hospitality? We got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time. I don't see why you can't make room for a few more. We could pull our resources, our manpower."
"Look, I'm sorry. That's just not an option."
Both men had looks on their faces that made my skin crawl. "Doesn't sound like it'd be a problem."
"I'm sorry. We can't." Hershel said, though it didn't sound like he was sorry, which was a good thing.
"We can't take in any more."
Dave chucked. "You guys are something else. I thought we were friends. We got people we gotta look out for too."
Rick was visibly irritated. "We don't know anything about you."
"Yeah, that's true. You don't know anything about us. You don't know what we've had to go through out there, the things we've had to do. I bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right? 'Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world. We're all the same. So come on, let's-let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other."
"That's not gonna happen." Rick shook his head, trying to get his point across without losing his temper.
"Rick-"
"This is bullshit!" Tony complained.
"Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down! Don't ever tell me to calm down!"
"Whoa."
"I'll shoot you three assholes in the head, take your whore and your damn farm!"
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa. Relax. Take it easy. Nobody's killing anybody." Dave interrupted, climbing over the bar. "Nobody's shooting anybody, right Rick?"
Rick grabbed his gun, Tony doing the same. Dave took out his gun, setting it on the counter. "We're just friends having a drink. That's all. Now where's the good stuff, huh? Good stuff, good stuff, good stuff. Let's see."
Rick put his hand on his gun again, but relaxed when Dave pulled out a bottle. "You gotta understand, we can't stay out there. You know what it's like."
"Yeah, I do. But the farm is too crowded as is. I'm sorry. You'll have to keep looking."
"Keep looking. Where do you suggest we do that?"
"I don't know." Rick shrugged. "I hear Nebraska's nice."
Dave laughed. "Nebraska. This guy." Dave went for his gun but Rick shot first, blood splattering on the mirror behind him.
I reacted quickly, shooting Tony in the chest twice. Rick walked closer, shooting Tony in the head to finish the job. "Thanks, Lottie."