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Daryl was returning to camp, carrying his catch. A large deer, big enough to feed the group for a few days. Blood dripped from the animal's head, leaving a trail on the ground as he walked through the forest.
In the silence of the woods, Daryl felt a nagging sensation, like he was being watched. He stopped for a moment, his eyes scanning the area, but saw nothing. "Just my imagination," he thought, and kept walking.
As he exited the forest, he saw the camp's cars and heard the familiar voices of the group.
— He's back, folks! — T-Dog exclaimed, spotting him. — And it looks like he brought something.
— I hope so! — Glenn said, rubbing his stomach. — I'm starving.
When Daryl arrived, the group gathered around, their eyes curious.
— That's a big one, huh? — Dale said, admiring the size of the deer.
Exhausted and covered in blood and sweat, Daryl took the deer to an appropriate spot and started cleaning it. When he finished, he was surprised by Amy, who was staring at him in admiration.
— You're amazing, Daryl! I can't believe you did it!
— Man, we thought you wouldn't come back with anything, — Glenn added, earning a small smirk from Daryl that quickly turned into a scowl.
"What do they mean, thought I wouldn't make it? Do I look like Glenn now?"
As Daryl pondered, Merle appeared behind him, grabbing his head and ruffling his hair like a school bully.
— Get off me, Merle! — Daryl grumbled, trying to free himself.
— My brother's a beast! Sometimes I forget he's just a little girl, — Merle mocked, laughing loudly.
Dale took advantage of the distraction to step closer.
— You came back just in time, Daryl. We're about ready to move out.
— What about the cars? — Daryl asked, ignoring his brother.
— All running fine. Engines have cooled, and the parts have been replaced.
— Good. Where's Shane?
Dale pointed toward Shane, and Daryl walked over to him.
— When are we leaving? — Daryl asked.
— We were waiting for you, — Shane replied.
— Then let's go.
As they started to prepare, a noise from the forest caught everyone's attention. It was a small horde of walkers, drawn by the blood trail left by the deer.
— Did they follow you? — Shane yelled, irritated. — You led them right to us?
— We don't have time for this. Everyone in the cars, now! — Daryl ordered.
The women ran toward the vehicles.
— Carl! Where are you? — Lori shouted, panicking.
— Mom, I'm here! — Carl replied, running to hug her.
Carol grabbed Sophia, pulling her close.
Meanwhile, the men got ready to face the horde. Shane grabbed his shotgun and positioned himself at the front.
— Don't shoot! — Daryl warned, but it was too late. Shane fired, and the sound echoed across the road.
— Damn it! That's gonna draw more walkers! — Daryl growled.
Merle, ignoring the warning, pulled out his revolver and began shooting. Daryl rushed to Dale's trailer, grabbed his rifle, and joined the fight.
T-Dog and Glenn stayed at the rear, protecting the cars and the women. But soon, walkers started emerging from the other side of the road.
Glenn improvised, grabbing the first thing he found—a tire iron—and smashing a walker's head. His hands shook after the first hit, and he hesitated before swinging again.
— Oh God... I can't believe I just did that, — Glenn muttered, his voice trembling.
— Keep going, or we're dead! — T-Dog yelled, though his own voice was shaky. He slammed a metal bar into a walker's skull but froze for a second, staring at the mangled corpse.
— This... this isn't normal, man, — he whispered, his breathing uneven.
— None of this is normal, T! Focus! — Daryl barked, noticing their hesitation.
Ed, however, panicked. Instead of helping, he ran to one of the cars and locked himself inside, trembling in fear.
— Seriously? — Glenn muttered as he noticed Ed cowering.
— Aim for the head! — Daryl shouted as the horde began to thin.
The fight was intense, and the gunfire left everyone on edge. The women, terrified, cried inside the cars. Glenn and T-Dog exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale.
— I don't know if I can keep doing this, — Glenn admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
— You don't have a choice, — T-Dog replied, though he looked just as rattled.
When it was finally over, Daryl gave the command:
— Get in the cars. We can't stay here. Move!
Everyone obeyed, and the vehicles sped toward the quarry. As they drove, they looked in the rearview mirrors and saw a larger horde emerging from the forest, attracted by the gunfire.
The group had escaped, but the danger was far from over.
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