𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

[44]: guessing game

All plans Rick had for a peaceful exit flew out the window when the two strangers turned up on their doorstep. His first thoughts were, "Guard". Whether it be to keep up his own guard or protect those he was surrounded by. Two vulnerable friends who could easily say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

The two strangers eventually sat down where Marley had the glass dig into her arm. A small brush of blood was still there.

Glenn had ushered Marley behind the bar, his arms leaning on it whilst she sat stiffly on the stool. Her eyes became icy at the sight of the strangers, and she had not said a word. Hershel sat where he had been for the past couple hours, supported by hs elbow.

Rick had confiscated Marley's gun.

The two men casually sat down in front of them.

The man bearing the Strafford shirt leaned back as the sheriff poured his friends, and new-found "friends" a drink into a couple of shot glasses - all except for Marley and Hershel of course.

"I'm Dave," he said offhandedly, he looked between the other man and Rick. Dave immediately knew who the leader was, and the right-hand man, the stressed damsel in disguise, and the plan B. Dave was smart, unlike his counterpart. Dave pointed to him. "That scrawny looking douche-bag there is Tony."

"Eat me, Dave," Tony chuckled.

"Hey, maybe someday I will." Dave eyed the drink Rick had poured him, reaching out to take it.

The problem they had was that not only was Dave smart, but Rick was too. Marley even, maybe, was smarter - but her brain was still buzzed and scrambled from her tendencies. So as Dave eyed their group, Rick watched their double-act.

"We met on I-95 coming out of Philly. Damn shit-show that was."

Glenn, unlike everyone else, had a grin plastered on his face. He was practically ecstatic. The girl beside him hadn't blinked her eyes away from Dave. "I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people."

"Rick Grimes," he offered his name, only breaking eye contact briefly as he handed Glenn his drink. Marley reached for it but he gently pushed her hand away. She huffed tiredly in annoyance.

Dave noticed.

Rick handed Tony a glass as well, and not one to Hershel.

"How about you, pal? Have one?" Dave asked, looking between the plan B and the stressed damsel in disguise - the two people not having drinks.

"I just quit," the old man answered, his voice still scratchy from what he had consumed, slurred and imprecise. Hershel's eyes seemed lazier as he squinted to see the men. His drunkenness could not be suppressed.

Marley, somehow, was able to suppress it. If she hadn't, she would be rambling on about absolutely nothing. But she stayed calm, her jolting leg squeezed by her own hand, just enough pressure to hold it down. Her pounding headache was pushed back. She had suppressed ill symptoms many times before. It wasn't that hard to do it again.

"You've got a unique sense of timing my friend," Dave smiled, being genuinely humorous.

Rick spoke up for his friend. "His name's Hershel. He lost people today, a lot of them." The experience of the situation in Rick's voice was almost painful.

Dave caught up on that, taking a moment of silence as he finally took his eyes off everyone. "I'm truly sorry to hear that." Dave knew what it was like, all too well. Dave had lost people. And like Hershel, it was a lot of them. Dave couldn't remember what it was like to refer to people in the present tense, and not the past.