Sharpshooters

Cool it, Dixon.

"Merle! Merle!" He grinned and kept turning around, looking in all directions and waving his weapon around, "get'yor ugly ass out'ere! I got us some squirrel-" the string of freshly-hunted critters was now also being waved in the air, gripped in his free hand. "Let's stew 'em up!" He called once more. Slowly, his arms dropped to his sides and he stared at Rick, who was approaching him with a sympathetic look on his face.

"Daryl-" Rick began, "just slow up a bit, I need to talk to you."

"'Bout what?" The hunter questioned.

"About Merle," Rick said. This gave Dixon a new-found, shocked expression, "there was a... problem when we were in Atlanta," Rick sighed and looked down to his feet, which he shuffled awkwardly on the spot. There was a moment of complete silence - the only sounds were those of faint chirping and the wind through the trees.

"He dead?" Daryl's mossy blue eyes were starting to glaze over with tears and his voice sounded a lot more subdued.

"We're not su-" Rick replied, but Daryl cut him off before he could finish.

"He either is, or he ain't!" Dixon hissed. The saddened tone was gone, and his eyes were darkened now with rage. A fight was brewing and I sure as hell know it won't end well. These are two bulking men. I cleared my throat, moved past Rick and stood almost in the middle of the two, closer to Rick for safety.

"Who are you?" The hunter questioned and shot a glare down at me. I looked up at him and stood silently for a moment. Fuck, what now? What do I say?

"Lex Blanton," I spoke with wavering confidence and attempted to continue; but, like Rick, I was cut short.

"Lex Blanton - you got somethin' you wanna tell me?" He hissed again. I raised a brow and folded my arms across my chest.

"Your brother was a danger to us all. I cuffed him to the roof of the buildin' we were holed up in. He's hooked to a piece of metal, should still be there," Rick spoke up and stepped forward. I sighed at the news. Daryl's eyes had widened again in shock and fiery anger. In a moment, he threw down the objects in his hands and stared sharply at Rick.

"Hold on. Let me process this. You're sayin' you cuffed my brother to a piece of metal... And you left him there?!" He yelled, voice cracking slightly. I stepped back one foot slowly and nodded. He glanced down at me quick then shot back up to Rick.

"Yeah," Rick huffed, "look - I'm sorry..."

The hunter frowned deeply, face twisting in all sort of processing expressions. Then, he sprang forward and forcefully pushed me out of the way with one muscular arm, causing me to fall over into the dust. Fortunately, Rick was well aware of the situation and started to step back. The hunter dived forward and lunged onto Rick, trying to pin him to the ground. Rick dodged and threw him off. He landed on his back with a thud but immediately shot back to his feet and pulled out a small hunting knife from his boot.

"Watch the knife!" I warned and pointed frantically at it. With a crazed look, he started thrusting the knife towards Rick, but luckily, kept missing. I heard the sound of brief footsteps behind us, near the clearing. Still, on the ground, I tightly gripped the handle of my knife in its holster and watched to see what would happen. Again, much to my surprise, a taller, buff man stepped through carrying a bundle of sticks. Around late 30's, maybe. He wore a black t-shirt, faded grey khaki pants and black combat boots. His hair was black, straight and styled in a lazy, pushed back way. A light, but noticeable stubble was forming around his tight lips and trailed up to his strong cheekbones. He noticed the scuffle and threw down the twigs, charging up to Daryl and dive-tackling his waist. Just as Daryl hit the floor, the man sprang into action and held him in a tight chokehold before he could get up.

Serves him right... Although, I couldn't help but feel sorry for Daryl's loss...