RIDE OR DIE | DARYL DIXON

old friend

"LAST FLOOR" Rick panted.

Willow took Daryl's hand as he hoisted her up and in through the window of the building. She took a few steps forward into the barely lit hallway, glancing down into another hallway that branched off of it.

"The guns have gotta be up here." She said quietly, shifting on her feet.

"He said they'd be here." Daryl said, partially out of breath.

"Everything else he passed you is checking out." Rick lowered his gun slightly. 

"That guy's a piece of shit." Willow muttered, swiping at the dust on her pants.

Rick said over his shoulder, "Those guns get to the sanctuary, they could cut through those walkers and free up an exit. We'll go faster if we split up. I find the M2s, you find 'em, we use 'em, hit the courtyard right then and there."

"End this quick." Daryl said before jogging down the hallway.

"Yes, sir." Willow said, cocking her gun and running not too far behind.

Daryl split from her and took a right, but she pushed further down the long corridor. The lights flickered and the hallway became dimmer the further she went. She peered into room after room, some doors open, and some closed. 

She slowed her steps when she heard something rattle on the other side of a large wooden door. She pressed her ear against it, her hand grazing across the golden door knob, the cold metal biting at her skin. She didn't hear the rattle again. They knew she was on the other side.

She shrugged off her backpack and rummaged through it, her fingers fumbling against a metal canister. Pulling it out, she bit the pin and took a deep breath, opening the door just a crack and tossed it inside. She heard the loud pop of the metal expanding and exploding, then she saw the white smoke creeping out from under the door. She heard the coughing of at least two men, and she quickly jumped back with her gun up, waiting for them to come out. A few chokes and coughs later, the door knob rattled and the door swung open, a gust of the heavy white smoke bellowing from the doorway. She could just barely see two figures emerging from the room.

"Get on your knees." She demanded.

The men continued to cough, turning in circles to find her. Their eyes were squinted and tears struck down their cheeks.

She pointed her gun at one of their feet and shot. "Get on your fucking knees."

The man cried out as her bullet hit true, and he fell to his knees unwillingly. The man beside him remained standing, his hands fumbling for something in his pocket. She raised her gun and fired a shot, then another, and then one more. Blood splattered the walls of the corridor, and as his body fell to the ground, it began to pool around the other man's knees.

She pressed forward once the smoke cleared out more, pushing the gun into the remaining man's head while she patted down the other's body. She rolled her eyes when she felt the small gun in the pocket he had been reaching for. She ripped it out and stuck it in her own pocket before standing back up in front of the cowering man.

"You've got guns here." She said through gritted teeth. "Where are they?"

The man blinked rapidly against the burning in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. "Go to hell."

She removed the gun from his head and swung her arm, the metal barrel of her piece smashing into the side of his face. He cried out again, fumbling a bit.

She grabbed his collar and made him sit back up. "Where are they."

He seethed through blood drenched teeth. "I'm not telling you shit."