When they arrived at the place Merle was supposedly left by T-Dog, Daryl Dixon found out nothing but a hand remained out of his brother on that roof. That delusional motherfucker cut his hand in order to escape when he saw he couldn’t cut through the metal of the handcuffs with the rusty old handsaw that belonged to Dale. Daryl flipped out and almost put an arrow through T-Dog’s head but he was stopped by Rick. Because of these losers his brother was now somewhere out there, fighting off walkers while missing a hand. But he knew his brother was alive. There wasn’t that much blood on the floor and Merle was the type of guy who wouldn’t die from just the loss of a limb. After picking up Merle’s hand, wrapping it in a blue rag and placing it in Glenn’s backpack, much to the Asian’s displeasure, Daryl started analyzing the traces left behind by his big brother.
“He must use a tourniquet. Maybe his belt. I’d be much more blood if he didn’t.” He followed the trail of Merle’s blood.
At the same time, inside the same building
“Damn those fuckers where did they leave the key? If they were about to leave me for dead they could have at least told me where they left the key to the storage room. Stupid…mother...fuckers!” I was talking to myself as I repeatedly kicked one of the paper bags that lay on the floor. Two days ago I was separated from the group of survivors I lived with since the refugee center in Atlanta fell. We established a base in a small grocery store at the outskirts of town. We rid the building of dead man, barricaded the door and the windows so that the only entry point was through the fire escape and we lived there for a while. Seven other people were there besides me, so we ran out of eatable food in a week. In order to survive we had to organize raids into town to grab food, water and whatever else was necessary.
One day during our raids we found a big convenience store which had a little bit of everything and a storage room packed with merchandise to the ceiling. This was the apocalypse we were facing. There were dead man walking the streets and everything we knew was gone. We were not about to share the precious food we found with other potential survivors, so our leader, private Ryan Wells, decided to lock the storage room and hide the key somewhere inside the building’s office in order for it to not get lost. But not every member of the group knew where the key was, so when I found myself alone in this crazy world once again, all I knew was that the storage room and the key existed. While I was furiously searching through all the drawers of every desk in the room I heard some voices I didn’t recognize. Instinctively I hid behind one of the desks.
“Had enough in ‘im to take out these two sons of bitches. One handed. Toughest asshole I’ve ever met, my brother. Give ‘im a hammer and he’ll crap out nails.” The guy who talked had an obvious southern accent. He seemed to be a rough, confident guy.
“Every man can pass out from blood loss no matter how tough he is.” Apparently they were searching for an injured man the second guy wasn’t so sure they will find alive. By what I could hear there were at least three of them in the same room as me. Who knows who these guys were and how the one they were searching for was injured. If I were unlucky they could even blame me for what happened to him. Or maybe they’ll take me prisoner for whatever reason. It’s not like living woman were a common sight those days and a man is a man even during the apocalypse.
I wasn’t about to wait and see what was going to happen next so I tried to sneak around the desk and make a run for it, hoping they won’t chase after me. After all, I knew this place pretty well, running and hiding somewhere inside here was piece of cake for me. Still crouched I slowly made my way to the end of the desk. Right when I was about to make a run for the next room, I kicked a coffee mug. The mug rolled on the floor, hit the desk and made a loud noise.
“What was that?” a third voice asked. “It came from behind that desk.” Of course they heard it. It’s not like it wasn’t as loud as the first thunder on a calm summer evening.
“Shit!” I mentally scolded myself for being this stupid. I could hear footsteps approaching me. There was no turning back now. I rose from behind the desk and started running towards my goal. While I was running I felt a breeze as something grazed my temple and plunged itself into the wall in front of me. It was a small arrow. Blood started coming out of the scratch on my temple. It slowly ran down my face and dipped to the floor. I stood still and waited as two sets of footsteps approached me from behind. A gun was placed to my head.
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa! Don’t shoot ok?” I told the man with the gun holding my hands in the air as I slowly turned to face him. He was a man in his early 40ies, wearing a sheriff’s uniform. Next to him was a dirty and sweaty man with a muscular body pointing a crossbow at me and behind them were a black guy with a bolt cutter and a young Asian guy wearing a red baseball cap.
”Who are you? And what are you doing here?” the sheriff asked me.
“Name’s Diana Moore. I overheard you speaking. You’re looking for an injured guy right? I haven’t seen him so you might as well lower your gun and let me go will you? We can all forget we saw each other and we’ll live happily ever after. ” The sheriff lowered his gun but the other guy kept pointing his crossbow at me.
“Mind putting that away from me Rambo? I think almost getting killed once a day is more than enough for me.” I told the guy with the crossbow eyeing him suspiciously. With a hand sign from the sheriff he finally lowered his crossbow. I could relax a bit and I let my hands down. The situation was still tensed so I stuck one of my hands in the pocket of my jeans where I hid a screwdriver in case I had to defend myself. Screwdriver vs. guns and a crossbow. I was at a clear disadvantage so I had to think every move I made through.
“My name’s Rick Grimes. The one with the crossbow here is Daryl Dixon. We are currently looking for his older brother, Merle Dixon. The guy with the bolt cutter is T-Dog and the young one with the baseball cap is Glenn.“ T-Dog and Glenn hesitantly shook their heads in acknowledgement muttering a muffled “hi” while Daryl just glared at me seemingly impatient.
“So Diana I’ll ask you again. What were you doing out here? And did you kill the two walkers behind us? ” All the guys were looking at me waiting for my answer. I had to choose my words carefully since I didn’t knew if I could tell them about the storage room. Besides the rude redneck with the crossbow looked like he wanted to put an arrow through my brain just to finish this conversation and go back to his search.
“I was looking for something left here by somebody. I’m not a threat to you and I certainly don’t intend to interfere with your search. And no, I didn’t kill those creatures. They were already dead when I got here. Now if you excuse me I’ll tend to the wound someone “accidentally” gave me. ” Saying this I looked at Daryl. Hearing what I just said, his face relaxed for a split second but hardened immediately after.
I placed my backpack on the ground and took out a patch. Since the wound was shallow, that had to suffice for the time being. ‘I’ll clean and disinfect it when I’ll get back to my place.’ I thought as I applied the patch on my wound.
“That’s not a very accurate answer. Where are the others? The ones who hid what you are looking for.” The sheriff was starting to get on my nerves with all his questions. Weren’t they searching for an injured guy? How come they had so much time to interrogate me?
“Others? Who? I’m alone. I’ve been alone for the last couple of days. Yeah, I used to have a group but I got separated from them while on a supply run. When I returned to our base I found some of them dead, eaten by the creatures. I believe you call them walkers, if I heard you correctly. The rest were nowhere in sight. I’ve been surviving on my own since then.” The redneck was getting more and more impatient with every passing second. He started pacing around the room, glaring at everyone. Then he walked up to Rick.
“What the fucking shit are we doing here, huh? We’re supposed to fetch ma brother, that stupid bag of yours and return to camp. Instead you sorry prick decide to play hero and interrogate a random bitch we found.” Not minding what the rude dude just said I took a step towards the sheriff.
“Camp? You have a safe heaven?” Daryl pointed his crossbow at me once again.
“Shut up ya' stupid bitch. None of your business.” Once again I ignored him and talked to Rick.
“Look I might have a deal for you. I have medical training. Before all shit broke loose I was an intern. I know how to take care of myself and I can handle the living dead. Besides I know where the storage room of this store is located. There is plenty of food, water and other stuff left there. I was actually searching for the key to that room when you guys walked in. It was hidden by the leader of my former group. I don’t know exactly where it is, I just know it’s in this room. Also back to my hiding place I’ve got some medicine, guns and ammo left. Take me with you to your safe place and I’ll bring all I’ve got with me. Deal?” They all stared at me wide eyed while Daryl was throwing mental daggers at me.
“We don’t care about ya' and whatcha got. Merle is somewhere out there. Missing a hand. Bleeding to death. We no need your little stories.” This guy was starting to really piss me off now. I disliked him from the moment I first saw him but he was getting harder and harder to tolerate with every word that left his mouth. Where do I put the fact that he almost killed me a while ago?
“Listen up you son of a bitch. I don’t give a damn about what you have to say. You have no right to talk to me after you almost killed me just now. Besides I wasn’t even talking to you, I was talking to Rick. Doctors aren’t something you’ll find hanging around every corner nowadays. Also your brother’s injured. What will you do if you find him but can’t help him because you don’t know how to? Having more knowledge on this matter I’d probably be able to save him. Consider yourselves lucky I offered you my services.” Daryl was silent for a few seconds then opened his mouth to say something that angered me even further.
"If I wanted to kill you you'd have a hole through you brain not just a little scratch on your forehead. Ungrateful little scum." Rick shot Daryl a glare that told him to stop then apologized to me on his behalf. Whispering an “I swear I’ll kill that bitch” Daryl averted his gaze from me. I stretched my hand towards Rick to seal the deal with a handshake but he just hesitantly looked at me.
“She is right Rick. Nobody inside our camp has any medical knowledge. She’d be a great asset for our group. Think about it.” I seem to have gotten Glenn’s approval. T-Dog was looking like he’d approve of me joining them too.
“Come on people what the hell? Are ya' stupid or something? How do we even know she’s not lying? She’s just a crazy chick we found wondering around. Don’t tell me ya' believe her.” The frustrated Daryl placed his hand on his head while turning his back to us and making a few more rounds around the room before stopping next to Rick. Of course the redneck would doubt me.
I crouched again to look through my backpack. Out of one of its pockets I took a wallet and threw it at Daryl’s face. He caught it just before it hit him and looked inside it. In there were my ID and the legitimation I used to wear while working at the hospital. Rick took the wallet out of his hand and looked at its content. After a few seconds he came to me, gave me the wallet back and said.
“Deal. But you’ll have to give us the guns and ammo. You may keep a gun and some ammo on you but the rest goes with the other weapons we have and will be used by everyone to keep the camp safe. Also we all have our duties there. You’ll have to help around camp with whatever needs to be done and treat whoever gets sick regardless of who he or she is and what happened to him or her. That of course if it is treatable with what we have.”
Just as Rick was about to shake my hand I withdrew mine. By what Glenn said earlier it seemed they needed me more then I needed them. I had the upper hand in this bargain so knowing this I felt a bit more confident about making my own requests.
“Oh! Not so fast! If that’s the way it is I have my own conditions. You can have the guns and ammo but I get to choose what and how much I keep for myself before giving the rest to you. I will help out in camp but only if I feel like it. I’m a free bitch baby. I don’t like being pushed around. I’m my own boss so I want the right to do whatever I want as long as I don’t endanger others. Also I need to be granted my personal space when I need it. In other words if I ask someone to leave me alone he’ll better do so. Don’t worry about me treating people though. That was my job after all. I’ll do my best at it just take notice; if someone gets bitten I’ll treat him with a gunshot to the head. Do we still have a deal?” Rick finally shook my hand.
“We have.” By now Daryl was exploding with rage. Even though he was an arrogant douchebag I felt a bit sorry for him. I knew the pain of losing a loved one and how desperate he must have felt clinging to the hope his brother might still be alive somewhere.
“Good. Then you go search for that fucker’s brother and I’ll go grab everything I can from my hideout. I’ll meet you back here in a while.” With that being said I went my way and they theirs.