For about ten minutes, I sat on the hood of a shiny new red mustang I haven’t seen before, until Rick, Daryl, and Shane came back, bringing another argument with them. I swear, all these people do is argue. Since the minute I met them that’s all any serious conversation has ended in.

“Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?” Shane followed Rick with visible frustration.

“Hey. Choose your words more carefully.” Daryl threatened, but it didn’t faze Shane.

“Oh, I did. Douchebag's what I meant.”

Hopping off the car, I walked over next to Daryl hoping that I won’t have to play referee. If I have to intervene, somebody's gonna get hurt, and it’s not gonna be me.

“Merle Dixon… guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dyin’ of thirst.” Shane mumbled.

Sadly, that's probably true.

“What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.” Rick argued.

Merle… you lucky bastard. Not a lot of people have this kind of morality anymore. I mean, Daryl would go back for you no doubt and I would likely go with him whether he asked me to or not, but the rest of these people? I can’t believe this guy has managed to talk them into going back.

“So, you and Daryl? That's your big plan?” Lori nearly scoffed.

If you have a better idea, I'm sure everyone would love to hear it.

Rick turned to Glenn with a look he knows all too well.

“Aw… come on.” Glenn groaned.

“You know the way. You've been there before. In and out, you said so yourself.” Rick said, resting both hands on his hips.

Glenn ran a hand through his hair, making a bitter unwilling face while he readjusted his cap.

“I know it's not fair of me to ask. But I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too.” Rick glanced at Lori.

“That's just great. Now you gonna risk three men huh?” Shane huffed.

Three?

“Four.” T-Dog volunteered.

Daryl scoffed bitterly, not even bothering to look up from cleaning the blood off his bolts, “My day just gets better and better, don't it?”

“You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?” T-Dog pointed out.

I raised my hand, but they carried on without noticing.

I could not have sighed harder internally. Just like school.

“Why you?” Daryl asked.

“You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language.” T-Dog replied.

I know how you feel.

I got up and came up behind Daryl, waving my hand. I finally caught Rick’s attention, and he sent a confirming and thankful nod my way, which I returned along with a half-smile.

“That's five.” Dale stated the obvious.

Daryl turned, subtly jumping when he noticed me.

“How long you been there?” he audibly growled to me alone.

I shrugged, holding up 3 fingers.

“We need 'em here, we need 'em to protect camp.”

I tuned back into the conversation. If it can even be called that, it’s just back and forth arguing. I feel like I’m at a diplomatic meeting of two countries no one’s ever heard of.

“Seems to me what you really need most here, are more guns.” A knowing look settled on Rick’s features.

“That's right. The guns.” Glenn smiled catching on.

“Wait what guns?” Shane voiced the confusion which had passed on the many faces of those listening in.

“6 shotguns, 2 high powered rifles, over a dozen handguns.”

Woah, that’s… a lot of firepower.

“I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sittin there on the street waiting to be picked up.”

That’s like finding the fountain of youth in the eye of a hurricane, underneath the ocean floor.

“Ammo?” Shane asked, as if he was considering it.

“700 rounds. Assorted.” Rick answered.

I let a low whistle slip. In my opinion, that alone is more than worth the risk of a little trip into the city. I’ll go get it on my own if the others aren’t willing to risk so many lives. Although that peeves me a little. They’re never unwilling to risk my or Glenn’s lives for things that are far less valuable; like soap and sleeping bags.

Shane was silent for a long time, clearly thinking about how much it could help to have those weapons, if not immediately than in the future.

“You went through Hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?” Lori stammered in disbelief. Concerned housewife.

“Dad, I-I don't want you to go.” Carl spoke up.

Dad? So, I was right, they are related but… isn't his dad dead? Looking back and forth between the two, I noted the small similarities that I had mistaken for simple family traits when I was guessing that Rick was her brother or something.

“To Hell with the guns.”

Excuse me? Those bullets could save our lives. Without them, we’ll likely be the ones going to Hell.

“Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.” Lori argued.

God, people. We could've been there and back by now. Why are we still arguing about this? Maybe I should just grab Glenn & Daryl and go snag Merle and those guns while they finish squabbling. We’ll be back by the time they’re done.

I tapped Daryl on the shoulder, and he looked at me. I glanced at Lori and Rick arguing, then back at Daryl.

Looking back at me, he grumbled, “They're married.”

I looked back and forth between those three, then to Shane and almost had to clap my hand over my open mouth.

That explains why Shane is on edge. Hooking up with your “dead” partner’s wife during the apocalypse, only to have said dead partner come back to life and well… I don’t envy him. They’re lucky nobody except - unfortunately - me, has seen them… ahem, hooking up.

God that’s an unpleasant memory. I did not need to see that. I can handle blood, guts hanging out of a body, people being eaten alive, and dead folk walking around but that… no. Just no. I feel bad for Carl. …And Rick.

 

Climbing into the back of the cube van, I looked around the old truck while Daryl paced a hole in the floor straight down the middle of it. It wasn't a minute before he impatiently stuck his leg into the front and loudly honked the horn with a heavy foot and immediately after the abrasive noise stopped, he shouted, “Come on. Let's go!”

At least his temper’s been slightly curbed, morphing into impatience.

Spotting T-Dog heading over, I went to the edge of the back and held my hand out, helping him climb up with the bolt cutters we borrowed from Dale. Borrowed may be too liberal of a term, it’s more like bargained.

“Thanks.”

I nodded and turned my eyes towards Daryl.

Seeing him going for the horn again, I threw a warning look and gave a little growl just for good measure. If he touches that horn again, I’m gonna knock him out and leave him here. There’s only so much I will tolerate. We can’t afford to be impatient in the city, not with all those walkers tucked into every crevice. One impulsive move and we’ll all be joining them.

Daryl challenged my stare with his own for a few seconds but yielded in the end.

Rick & Shane talked at the back for a minute, something about bullets and old lady purses, while I went to the front by Glenn.

“You think he'll still be there?” Glenn asked.

I nodded without hesitation. Of course he will. Merle's not smart enough to know how to get out of handcuffs. Ironic, considering how he's no stranger to being arrested.

Rick opened the side door and got in the passenger seat and I went to the back of the truck and reached up, grabbing the strap at the top of the garage-like door and pulled it down, locking it as the truck started.