million dollar man | twd

ʜᴏsᴛᴀɢᴇs

[ hostages ]
꧁꧂

It was daylight as everyone from inside the compound emerged. Tara and Heath had already taken the van and were headed on a two-week trip to find more supplies. The rest of the group was ready to leave when the sudden roar of an engine pierced the air. Daryl turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a man on his motorcycle—the one Dwight had stolen—driving out of the compound.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl growled, recognizing the bike instantly.

The group sprang into action, guns raised as they fired at the fleeing rider. Bullets riddled the air, and the man let out a grunt as he was hit, tumbling off the bike and onto the ground. Without hesitation, Daryl sprinted over, tackling the man with a forceful impact. He landed a series of punches across the man's face, each blow fueled by rage and desperation.

"Where'd you get the bike?!" Daryl shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and demand.

The distinct click of a gun hammer cocking filled the tense air as Rick pointed his Colt Python at the man's head, eyes cold and unyielding.

"Just do it!" the man spat defiantly, blood trickling from his nose. "Like you did everyone else, right?"

Suddenly, a woman's voice crackled over a walkie-talkie lying on the ground near the fallen man. "Lower your gun, prick," she ordered, her tone icy and authoritative.

The group froze, eyes darting around the perimeter, searching for the source of the voice. They knew they were being watched, but from where?

"You with the Colt Python. All of you, lower your weapons right now," the woman commanded again, her voice steady and composed.

None of them moved as Rick picked up the walkie, his grip tight and his expression hard. "Come on out," he said, his voice a mix of challenge and negotiation. "Let's talk."

The woman's voice came back, unwavering. "We're not coming out, but we will talk. We've got a Maggie and a Vanessa. I'm thinking that's something you want to chat about."

Vanessa glared at the redheaded woman, who was eyeing their group from behind a fence with a pair of binoculars. The intensity of the standoff was palpable, every second feeling like an eternity.

"Now, we're gonna work this out right now, and it's going to go our way," the redhead declared, her voice carrying a steely determination.

"You can see we have one of yours," Rick said, his tone icy. Daryl tightened his grip on the man who had stolen his bike, pressing a gun to the back of his head to emphasize the threat. "We'll trade."

The redhead considered his words, her gaze unwavering. "I'm listening."

Rick's eyes narrowed. "First, I want to talk to Maggie and Vanessa, make sure they're alright."