Dan took the couple down to the bar, not because he wanted a stiff drink, although that had played on his mind, but more because they looked like they needed one. His gun made them obviously nervous, but fuck it, better them than him. Besides, since the apocalypse came and fucked the world this had been his hotel, anyone else was just a guest.
In the early days he had been a lot more carefree and reckless, thinking that it was all fun and games, and why not, when everyone you loved had passed over, all that was left was to drink smoke and kick the fuck out of some poor dead cunt. Sure, he loved the thrill of the fight, but he had fought just to survive, but in the end the craziness had won out and Dan had retired to his former workplace to pursue other passions.
The world outside was changing rapidly and sitting about doing nothing had its advantages, at the same time, it also had a used by date. Dan had long since noticed the decline in what he would call quality corpses, much like the quality in his smoke. That in itself was an issue, and then there were the dark fuckers that lurked about. The strong ones.
"I'm Dan." He introduced himself simply while pouring drinks, there seemed little sense in spouting a last name, he was probably the only Dan left, at least the only one that mattered.
"Carl and this is Beth." The large guy responded proper.
"Welcome to the Overlook." Dan smiled at the reference that seemed lost on the others.
"So you have been here awhile then?" Carl asked, not taking his eye from Dan's gun.
"Long enough." Dan replied shortly, sipping at his scotch, keeping the glock pointed down.
"I take it you're alone?" Carl spoke again, calm and firm.
"Aye, that I am." Dan let it roll out as though he didn't care, which was at least half true. "And it's just the three of you then?"
"So you have been watching then." Carl's words hit him more as a statement, so Dan held out on replying.
"You don't last long around if you can't mind your surroundings." Dan knocked back the remainder of his drink before slowly pouring another, giving time for it to sink in.
"So you knew about the dead man in the kitchen?" It was the lasses turn to pipe up and he sensed an honest fire in her.
"He kept the rats down." Dan could feel her annoyance radiating through the muscles in her face. "I guess I will have to get a cat now."
"Jace got hurt, you asshole. You could have warned us." she practically spat at him.
"I could have shot you too, but I didn't." Her anger was well placed and Dan kept his gun pointed down, it was the big guy who bothered him and Carl had barely moved since he sat down. His demeanor, passive and controlled. Still Dan had already seen the decapitated head in the kitchen.
"It's alright Beth." Carl calmed his companion. "Dan here, knows how it is, if you can't survive one zombie then you don't belong in this world. Right?"
"That about sums it up." Dan smiled back. "You don't know me and I don't know you, but we are getting there. So how about I put the gun down and we talk about what you want to do."
"I was wondering what it was that you wanted to do?" Carl put it to him.
"Well first I want to live." Dan had long since given up on the idea of dying. "After that, well I guess we will have to see."
"Well I guess we have that in common then." Carl's calm impressive and it gave Dan a good feeling. There had been a lot of crazy fucks in the early days and too many people had fallen needlessly in the power struggles that erupted.
"I don't expect you to trust me, in fact, I would advise against it." Dan spoke clearly, not breaking eye contact as he tucked the gun behind his belt. "But if you like I can probably offer a hot shower."
"Trust is always earned, and don't think that a hot shower will do any to sway us." Carl replies coolly, much to Dan's enjoyment. He liked the distance they had created, kind of like personal space, and he had meant what said about trust. If shit went south he had no qualms about sacrificial lambs.
Still he intended to deliver on the shower, the generator had enough diesel left for a day or so and the 'do did need washing. Besides it had been a long time since he had killed an undead, and in a way he missed the rush of danger that came with it. Looking at the glass foyer and the milling corpses outside, Dan figured he better get in some practice, shit was only getting more fucked up.
