In a rectangular shaped medium table, the dining room of the Adamson's. The entire family has gathered to celebrate Thanksgiving.
Alexa took a close glance at her wristwatch,he did have forgotten about the invite, she presumed.
The dining table became full with her four sister's and their supposed spouses, she watched in disappointment. Alexa shared no close relationship with any of them, what brought them together were these kind of events. And this ignited more fury in her.
"Alexa honey, he isn't here yet?" Her mother asked, adding one more bowl of chicken tortilla soup. THE FAMILY RECIPE.
Dylan with the help of his pal, Lannort. He got the right informations about the number. A-3-5-1 a day after Negan's demise.
From his hideout, Dylan viewed the huge trucks through his binoculars , they were five, all had the number; A-3-5-1.
There were armed men loading and offloading off cathione imprinted on the folding boxes. It was an illicit drug warehouse.
His expression was to make this the quickest, Dylan cocks his pistol, walks into the opening impatiently. At the sight of him, they open fire, the gunfiring, more bullets burst erupting into the air.
Skillfully, Dylan oscillates back and forth , dodging every hit. Calculative of their numbers, they were NINE, His aimed bullet strucks into more gunmen.
SEVEN MEN DOWN_TWO MORE LEFT.
Part of his killing plan, he scurries off in between the welded steel tanks. They signalled each other for a split-up. Both agrees with a nod, in order to take down Dylan singlehandedly. A PREY HUNT BEGAN.
The gunman with his AR-15 carbine falters through, on the scutch grass in search of their prey, he stood at a point.
"Now where the fuck are you, motherfucker!" He whispers.
Under a swap bodies, he laid low. Close enough to the gunman, out of his pocket, he prodded a steak knife deeply into the gunman's left foot.
"Shit! you son of a bitch."
The gunman screeches out in pain, holding onto his wounded foot, from below. Dylan lands a bullet to his chin, it pulls out through his head.
ONE GUNMAN DOWN-ONE LEFT.
Dylan has detected where the other was.
The gunman gawks into the rustling napier grass, his perceptiom was he was hiding in there.
From behind, Dylan swungs into the air, snaps his neck.
In a tac knife grip, Dylan goes further into the warehouse. In the storage area, he encounters A MAN armed with a knife, Dylan face wraps with rage. The armed man kicks off his gun, Dylan attacks, knives flying at furious speed, both are left without any weapons as each get rids of the other's.
Blows and counters, retreating as Dylan takes charge. And his kick sends him slamming back against a steel column.
Stunned, Dylan ducks just under a punch that CRUNCHES into the BEAM, STEEL CHUNKS EXPLODING like shrapnel.
Behind the armed man, Dylan leaps into the air, delivering a neck-snapping reverse round.
Alexa dials his number once more, she hears a ringtone from behind. There he was, smiling at her.
"Where have you been?"
" I'm sorry I'm late, voluntarily. I helped some men out."
"Now you are a volunteer, to what?"
"Did I mention how gorgeous you look Miss Adamson?"
Alexa blushes.
"Enough of the flatters, let's go in."