Risks OPEN

Risks--Open--

Daryl watched her. She was scared but he was not going to harm the woman if she did not force his hand. He looked tough and he could be however they were all in the same boat now. “I’m a survivor.” Daryl replied after a few moments of silence. He saw no need to give her his name. “And I want supplies.”

Daryl looked down at the Walker. He had seen her pulling it’s teeth out. Daryl was perplexed by it. He had no idea why. It was already dead...again... so it held no threat to her now. Plus she was keeping the teeth. “What are you doing with their teeth?” He asked now.

The man took a few more steps towards the cabinets on the wall. Looking at her periodically to make sure that she was not going to try anything. There was a good chance that she had already cleaned them out. Daryl took what he could find. They could sort everything out in the Prison later. He did find some bottled water and dishes in the lower cupboards and packed that away in his bag. They could always use more of both. Daryl did not bother with the fridge. All of the food in there would be long rotten by now. He turned to look at her again. She was young. Younger than him he assumed. Maybe would have been pretty before all of this had happened.

He wanted to ask her if she was alone. He had not seen anyone else as of yet. It was dangerous to be out among the Walkers by yourself. He had inkling though that the question might not go over well. That it might make her nervous.Out or the corner of his eye, he saw a truck go by on the road outside.  So there was someone else in town.

313 words || great clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above || open

As she held the bones out, he shamelessly scavenged the area. Unlike herself, he seemed to have a practical goal in mind. He was set on gathering needed supplies; water, food and...plates and dishsoap? She gave him a curious look at that, but said nothing. But Elaine? She had intended to get these things (perhaps not the soap) but easily distracted, she had hung back and allowed him to pilfer what she should have put a stake on. The kid would be upset, she knew without a doubt, but there would be other opportunities to pick at the desolate remains of hallowed-out homes and the local piggly wiggly.

With a shrug, she put the bones back in her bag. His loss, but that wasn't her concern.

What did bother her, was his easy denial of having anything to do with those cars they were hearing. Not linking arms with anyone at the moment, she knew for sure that they weren't her allies - nonexistent as they were - so when he moved to the front of the restaurant Elaine was not far behind. She had a hard time trusting his word. She had no reason to believe him, no reason at all. He was no one to her, and she was probably less than that to him. They were nothing more than a gruff man grabbing stuff and a dirty woman poking at dead things. But, still, she found herself wondering what was up when she caught him throwing his gaze along the length of the street. If they were his people, why was he here on his own? Despite her general avoidance of living people, even she knew it was safer to at least run in a pair. He wasn't heavily armed, and didn't look nearly nimble enough to evade all the hazards on his own.

“If they aren't with you, then who are they?” came her question. Her tone was of a light, questioning one; neither concerned nor particularly dismayed. She braced an arm on the dirty window and eyed the street as well. She didn't see the truck, but that kinda noise was sure to attract all kinds of problems. In her head, Elaine was already running through several scenarios, some of which involved her being eaten alive (and those were the pragmatic thoughts) while others made use of the parkour skills she didn't have to get away from the no-doubt-impending walker flash mob.

Who the heck uses one of the noisiest vehicles known to the modern man, in a zombie apocalypse?

“I once ripped a tag off a shirt – had a whole family shambling after me.” she muttered, in reference to her unvoiced thoughts. But the point should have been obvious; too much noise. Elaine might not mind walkers, but she certainly had no desire to be apart of their single-minded collective. Leaning back from the window, she glanced around the remains of the restaurant, looking for something. When she didn't see it, she ventured back to the kitchen, emerging a minute with some obscure cleaning product being shoved in her pack. There was an audible crack as one of the thinner, more brittle bones broke, but she would worry about replacing it later.

“I think we're looking in all the wrong places if those guys are hauling stuff out by the truckload.” she joked, returning to her previous spot by the window. “I wonder if they found any common sense.”