𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. LVI - 《warm embrace at the shithole》

oh damn, I'm finally back. I got sick with Covid as did most of my family, but we are all back on our feet. Of course not everyone can say that. I sincerely hope you have all been well and that your loved ones have remained healthy during these obviously difficult times.

I had missed writing this story so much. Now that I finally graduated and don't need to use up my brain juice on studying, I will try to pump out more chapters while the inspiration hits! To any of you coming back after my hiatus, thank you so much for staying loyal, it means the world to me that you're still interested in this story. Now get on with reading!

.oOo.

The red sun warmed their backs as it began to set, but a chill started to raise goosebumps on any bare skin. The search for a new home had come and gone and come again. A neighboring farm had become their second abode, enveloping them in a wave of underlying anxiety, setting off a subconscious countdown until the day of their inevitable departure. Then, finally, the clock reached zero short of two weeks of antsy living.

Walkers, once again – the bane of their comfort.

They lost two of Hershel's people on the flight. Patricia joined her husband in whatever plane of existence came after their hell on earth. Beth lost Jimmy to a stray bullet – a tragic accident that caused her to discredit anyone who had wielded a firearm on that fateful afternoon.

A somber lull marked their steps as the forest shadows grew longer and extended their twisted fingers over them. A week on the road behind them – surviving off minimum rations and hoping their fuel lasted them enough to find sanctuary. Then smoke rose above the treetops. Maybe some charitable souls, one could only hope. If not, Diana hoped their large number would work as intimidation. Hunger and exhaustion, and stress had made her irritable – and not only her.

Light blue paint peeling off wooden panels greeted them as leaves crunched softly underfoot, and they camouflaged into the growing darkness, just out of sight of the clearing of the house. Candlelight shone mutely through every lower level window, the chimney smoked, and the murmur of voices moved throughout the house.

Two horses were tied to the side fence, agitated by their silent presence. Rick signaled the group to circle to the back of the house, away from the animals that would call attention to them. The air was dense, and a chill began to descend on them. Every sound was sharpened by the darkness. Diana could hear everyone breathe.

If they were lucky, two horses meant two people. That could be easily handled if a diplomatic approach failed. She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

There was something eerie floating in the atmosphere that evening, or maybe it was Diana's imagination. She contemplated the next steps. Would they simply walk up to the door and knock? That seemed like the obviously naïve option.

Instead, T-Dog and Daryl sneaked up to the two windows to peek inside and analyze the situation. Once they returned to their side, T-Dog reported, "Three people at the dining table. They having turkey for fuck's sake."

Diana's stomach ached. She pressed a fist against her belly.

"We can take 'em," Daryl said with a determined nod, to which Hershel reacted immediately.

"Or we can ask them," the old man countered. "Like civilized people. Or have we resorted to savagery?"

"I couldn't agree more," Dale nodded, making himself heard for the first time in a while. After Andrea left, he had deflated, falling into a hole, and almost accepting his presence in it. Some had tried to comfort him, but the coddling hadn't done much.

He snapped out of it after Alice had called him out on his pathetic behavior. Since seeing as the blonde wasn't dead, him moping around wasn't going to bring her back to them. He was simply dead weight. She had been harsh, very much Alice, but it got the job done.