𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. XXIII - 《assholes and how to deal with them》

oOo

The morning of the run had been an emotionally stressful one. At least for Diana, it had. Her parents almost forbade her to go at least four times, but she'd prevailed by reminding them of the points that had won her argument the day before.

Then she'd gone to wish Daryl a good hunt but it seemed like he'd already left.

Shane had given her a machete which she'd taken with a hint of gratitude. She had her bow with her anyways, but since no one knew what it could do, she didn't want to look unarmed. It may have looked foolish to the others, but she knew what was up.

The ride to the city had given her nervous butterflies. It made her want to throw up with every jostle of the van. There, they worked stealthily and raided a couple of uninhabited stores. Diana considered making a break for her Godmother's apartment, but being directionally challenged and the prospect of getting lost all alone

Everything was going fine, but it didn't last long. When does it ever?

Glenn had spotted a man donning a sheriff's uniform on the streets while on the lookout for the next spot. He'd been riding on a horse like an apocalyptic cowboy and had then gotten himself trapped in a tank with dozens of geeks surrounding him.

Diana's heart went out for the poor horse as she averted her eyes and covered her ears from its desperate whinnies.

Glenn took off after that, trying to reach the man on the walkie-talkie, going by the logic that there must be one inside the tank. Diana wanted to accompany him, but he asked her to stay behind, not wanting to put her in unnecessary danger. Then he went ahead and put himself in unnecessary danger.

They'd been waiting for some time when they heard shots from out on the street that were growing closer to them. Diana heard Morales curse under his breath and run his hands into his hairline. In a nervous tizzy, she tapped the flat side of the machete against her leg and cracked her knuckles one-handed.

If the shots came any closer, the geeks would come to them like a tidal wave.

The others were pacing, seething, especially Andrea, who was on the verge of tears of anger. Her knuckles were white from her grip on her gun and Diana eyed her like she was about to explode.

Suddenly, Glenn's voice sounded from the walkie-talkie, accompanied by vague static, and Diana shot to T-Dog. "What'd he say? Is he coming back?"

T-Dog pursed his lips and nodded tensely. "Yeah, got that son of a bitch with him."

He and Morales started covering themselves with some kind of protective gear they'd improvised with shit from the store.

Morales spoke next, wiping his sweaty brow, "Seriously, does he not get the concept of stealth?"

Diana ignored their collective complaints. She just wanted Glenn safe by her side again, with or without Apocalypse Cowboy.

T-Dog and Morales counted to three and burst out the door, fully geared up and donning baseball bats. Diana heard the snarls of the dead before the sound of wood on flesh and bone was heard. She suppressed a shudder, seeing the gory image that accompanied the sound in her mind's eye.

Glenn came rampaging through the door with the other man in tow.

Glenn's hand flew out immediately in her direction when he spotted her and Diana almost glided to his side, grabbing it and squeezing it in relief. They shared a look before being distracted by Andrea's outrage.

She was on the Sheriff before the Devil could blink, pressing her gun to his face. She made furious threats and accused him of their doom.

Diana thought that she could stand to be less melodramatic about it and pointing a gun at the guy's face wasn't gonna do anything. Dead or alive, he couldn't change what he'd done.