Survival of the fittest
We learned the meaning in school ,but we never registered that we may very well have to live through that scenario.
"Daryl, I'm scared . I'm scared of what I've lost , scared of what I've seen , scared of what I've had to...
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We've been walking for hours and I can feel myself gettin drained.
I haven't had water since yesterday and this heat definitely isn't forgiving, you would assume for men who wanted a piece of ass they'd at-least have the common curiosity to offer me some water.
It's getting closer to sundown. I look up from the railroad tracks as Len whistles at the group.
"This is our abode for the evenin." Joe states.
It's a rusted railroad shack that I'm assuming was used for pit stops on the way to the conductor's destination.
I know for one I am not excited to be sleepin here, the damn thing is made from tin, might aswell throw me in a fucking oven to roast.
Daryl walks up to me as everyone else starts towards the shack.
"Hey" he grunts.
I look up at him an raise my brow as in to ask him what the hell he wants.
" 'ere"
He sets an open bottle of warm water in between my tied hands.
I look down at the bottle an I look back up at him an nod.
"You don talk do ya?"
He asks but it sounded more like a grumble than actual words. I drink some water, well more like downed it. After I'm done I look back at him an I shake my head no.
"Mhm" He grunts taking the bottle back from me.
After clearing the shack everyone seems to be settling in except Daryl, see I'm no mind reader by no means but I can indeed read body language, I can tell he is uncomfortable, he doesn't fit in.
From the conversation in the woods this morning I learned from Joe that Daryl is new to this group so I'm guessing that's why it doesn't seem like he's to keen on seeing eye to eye with these fellas. So far I've learned that they call themselves "The Claimers", and that they aren't big on lying or stealing.
Unfortunately the rules don't cover taking women hostage and sayin provocative things to em.
It's currently night time and pretty much everyone is asleep aside from Me, Len, and Daryl. I'm sitting up next to the wall while Daryl is laid up on the floor using a trash bag as a pillow. Len is in a convertible car layin in the back seat fiddling with a huntsmen's knife.
"Hey honey, what's ya name."
Len asks from a few feet away. I just look at him without sayin anything.
"HEY! Now I asked ya something woman now why don't ya be a sweet lil thing an answer me."
I still just look at him, I can see Daryl look at me an nod his head as if to encourage me to speak. Still silent I reach out and use my finger to write in the dirt on the floor. A N N A. I then nod to it and Len walks over an looks down.
