𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. XXVIII - 《murderous and ready to roll》

oOo

Diana, Rick, and T-Dog took off to their designated area of waiting and surveillance, keeping a low profile. Diana had insisted on taking the lead, aggressively gesturing at her bow and putting a finger to her lips. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, her godawful sense of direction made her embarrassingly invite the other two men to walk ahead.

She wouldn't get them lost due to a stubborn sense of pride.

Arriving at the alley undetected was easy enough. Now they just had to keep their eyes open for Glenn while avoiding being seen by any walker strolling by on its eternal promenade.

While they waited, Diana felt the burning of a staring gaze on her, it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight. She felt relieved to see it was only T-Dog, although it was still pretty unnerving.

His eyes were trained on her bow. Diana adjusted her fingers around the grip and cleared her throat. "You uh- you need something?" she asked sheepishly, voice in a whisper.

It caught Rick's attention as well as T-Dog's, and both men looked at her. T-Dog had the decency to look flustered. "Nah, it's nothing." His mouth opened and closed as if he was reconsidering. When Diana thought he'd put it to rest, he spoke again. "It's... that thing, you never really explained. You took that thing with you everywhere but I never thought... It's just some weird-ass shit, man."

"Zombies are weird-ass shit, too," she responded with a shrug.

"Yeah, but that could have an explanation, ya know? A virus or whatever. How d'you explain that?" He pointed at it emphatically. "I mean, it's just-"

"It is what it is," Rick interrupted. "Maybe we'll find out one day, maybe we won't. It's not our business."

Diana gathered her courage, about to openly admit for the first time that it was possible she wasn't the only one. Right then, they heard someone call out 'Ayúdame', which resonated down the street. Glenn couldn't speak Spanish... Neither could Daryl.

Rick shared a look of worry with them and then gestured back down the alley. They took off running and winded up at Daryl's post. Diana looked on in surprise at the spectacle, leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

Daryl was pressing an unknown guy against the side of the building, making all sorts of colorful threats. Judging by the look of the guy, he'd been the one to call out for help.

Rick separated the two, holding back Daryl while T-Dog grabbed a fistful of the other guy's tank top, keeping him pressed against the building, but with far less force. Diana tried to make sense of what had transpired, what they'd missed.

What in the actual hell was actually going on?

At the front of the alley, blocking the street, a mass of walkers pressed against a precarious fence, threatening to tip over. That was when she raised her bow, fingers ready to draw, just in case.

She asked Daryl where Glenn was, his absence a sore thumb to her, and his answer was what made the last thread break.

oOo

Glenn was missing and this little shit was playing tough.

They'd brought him back to their previous hideout, intent on getting answers out of him.

Diana hung out at the back of the room, arms crossed. She could see the kid occasionally between Daryl's pacing self and Rick's looming stature. She felt herself seethe, her breathing coming in and out shallowly and her short fingernails digging little half-moons into her arms.