𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧

𝟏𝟐

narrative

"smells to me like the sawhatchee creek." merle stopped, taking in a deep breath. daryl looked over his shoulder at his brother.

"we didn't go west enough. there's a river down there, its gotta be yellow jacket." he says.

"you having a stroke boy? we ain't never even come close to yellow jacket."

"we didn't go west. just a little bit south. that's what i think." daryl brushes off his brothers comment.

"you know what i think?" merle scoffs. "i may have lost my hand, but you lost your sense of direction." he moved a branch from his path.

"yeah, we'll see." daryl mutters.

"what do you want to bet?"

"i don't want to bet nothing. it's just a body of water. why's everything gotta be a competition with you?" daryl fully stopped.

"whoa, whoa. take it easy, little brother. just trying to have a little fun here. no need to get your panties all in a bundle." merle caught up next to him.

"you hear that?" daryl put his hand up, telling his brother to shut the fuck up as a a faint cry filled the air.

"yeah, wild animals getting wild." merle smirked.

"no, that's a baby." daryl shooks his head, starting to walk toward the direction of the sound.

"oh, come on." merle rolled his eyes. "why don't you just piss in my ear and tell me it's raining, too? that there's the sound of a couple of coons making love, sweet love. know what i mean." daryl ignored his brother and kept walking. merle mumbled a profanity under his breath, following behind.

"¡están viniendo! ¿qué debería hacer? ¿qué debo hacer?" (they're coming! what should i do? what should i do?) a young boy asked his father as the two of them stood on a flattop truck.

"hey! jump!" merle laughed. daryl threw him a dirty look. "what?" daryl rolled his eyes and started to run up to the bridge they sat on.

"hey, man, i ain't wasting my bullets on a couple of strangers that ain't never cooked me a meal or felicitated my piece. that's my policy. you'd be wise to adopt it, brother." merle yells after his brother, following after him.

"¡mover! ¡mover!" (move! move!) the older man told his son as he dropped his gun on the ground

"santa marha llena eres de gracia..." a young woman prayed as a walker tried to get to her and her child through the back of her car unknowingly.

"¡no! ayúdame, ayúdame." (no! help me, help me.) the father kicked at a walker that grabbed at his pants. daryl shooting it in the middle of the head.

"come on, man. i'm trying to help you out. cover me!" the man didn't understand daryl, but jumped down off the truck and grabbed the gun he dropped.

"ese te va a matar, cuidado." (that one is gonna kill you, watch out.)

"daryl! i got ya! go!" merle shouted, shooting down walkers.

"si tocas a mi esposa, te mato." (if you touch my wife, i kill you.)

"speak english!" daryl yelled at him, shooting down another walker.

"¡no te entiendo!" (i don't understand you!)

"¡mátalo!" (kill him!)

"¡papá!" (dad!) the boy yelled after his father, pointing to the car that was surrounded by walkers.