Seven ➳ d.dixon's dog

t h i r t y - s i x

Seven's POV

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We came to a pretty fair agreement in the end. We'd get half of what's left of their stash and in return we'd clear out another cell block for them. Nothing more, nothing less. I hope this stash has some water. Actually, it will have water. Water sounds nice.

I'd stopped panting by now but my tongue still feels pretty dry from how long I had been panting. We'd made our way back to the cafeteria they were locked in, "Pantry's back here." The man with the gun says. No shit, Sherlock.

He leads us towards exactly where they'd been staying, "You never tried to break out of here?" T-Dog asks. I'm in front of our group but behind theirs, making me have to turn to see T-Dog. Looking around the room, it's full of garbage bags and well.. just garbage in general.

"Yeah, we tried to take the doors off. But if you make one peep in here, then those freaks will be lined up outside the door growling, tryna get in," Thrift store T-Dog says. C'mon people, can we get a name introduction of some sort? I'm tired of these names. Except for mustache man. He gets to keep that.

He continues, "Windows got bars on there that He-Man couldn't get through." I don't believe that. Pretty sure the guy had some type of magical tiger that he could ride. Anybody with a magical tiger is pretty strong in my book.

"Bigger than a 5x8," Mustache man says. I'll pretend I know what that means.

The giant speaks up, "You won't find me complaining. Doing fifteen. My left leg can barely fit on one of those bunks." No shit? I snort. Congrats, you three don't seem that bad. As for your other two companions.. can't say the same.

Apparently my snort made the giant look down at me an smile some, the same going for mustache man. "Yeah, they don't call him Big Tiny for nothing," Walmart T-Dog says. Finally! A name! Sorta.

The hispanic man appears at the pantry doorway, "You done jerking each other off? Sick of waiting back here." Actually we were just getting into it, y'know? No need to sound so jealous. I roll my eyes, and step to move forward towards him. Stopping for a moment, I double-take on my own thoughts. We won't talk or think about that comeback EVER again.

I let the other group go in first, analyzing their facial expressions and demeanor to try and dictate or predict if I'm about to get jumped when I walk in here, but no such thing happens. Instead I'm met with a gold mine of food. You guys said there wasn't much left. I don't know how spoiled you may have been with food as a child but god damn this is a lot.

Daryl was close behind me followed by Rick and T-Dog, and they were thinking the exact same thing I was. Well, similar at least. "This is what you call a little bit of food?" Daryl asks, after using a flashlight to shine some light on the food.

Daryl gets in his face some but steps around him rather than tries to square him up, "Goes fast." The hispanic man says, not stopping Daryl. Goes fast? It's lasted you five ten damn months. And by the look of Big Tiny over there, y'all did not have to regulate your consumption.

"Mm-hm," Daryl hums back quickly to what he says. I nod my head and mentally hum. Mm-hm.

"You can have a bag of corn. Some tuna fish- " The hispanic man says. Ha! You're funny.