6- "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short." -Dale Horvath

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█║▌║▌║ Author's Note ║▌║▌║█

Dear Walkers,

I just wanted to dedicate and give a big thank you to jkh01234! She has been voting and commenting on all chapters since the very beginning. It'd be great if you could follow her!

I also wanted to thank all of my other readers. It means so much when you vote and comment! I'd really like to reach my 2014 goals of 400 total votes and 3,000 reads on this story, so keep 'em coming!

Happy Zombie Reading!

Micky.

█║▌║▌║ Six ║▌║▌║█

"Alright, the nearest gas station is three miles," Daryl begins, using Rick's map, "maybe we'll find us a truck, if we're lucky."

Rick raises an eyebrow, "Won't the noises just attract walkers?"

Daryl chuckles and folds the map bak up, handing it to Rick, "We need to get to the city somehow."

"The city? That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard," Rick says, his voice raising, "why would we want to go there?"

"There's shelter-"

"Listen, just because I was stupid enough to let you come along doesn't mean you need to take over," Rick cuts him off, stepping closer, "I'm in charge here."

"We need somebody who's got more knowledge than a guy who rides around in a car all day."

"I am the sherriff!" Rick clences his teeth and grabs Daryl by the arm, "There's way more to the job than sitting in the police car." I step in the middle of them and give Rick a warning look. Rick lets go and pushes Daryl back before turning around. He stands beside a silent Merle and a sniffling Carl.

We all walk in silence down the blood stained cement. I rub Carl's back comfortingly.

There's the sound of husky growl in front of us and a walker, with bare bone up one arm and an eye missing from one socket, gets up from behind a truck, stumbling toward us with greedy hands. My hand reaches instinctively towards my knife as an arrow whizzes past my head, missing by mere inches, and into the walkers skull. With a groan, he drops to the ground and Daryl kneels beside it. He reaches in the pockets of walker's clothes and snatches out a wallet then opens it. He grabs a couple $20 bills from it and drops it on the corpse, shaving the money in his own bill-filled wallet.

"Why would you bother stealing the money?" Merle asks quietly. Daryl furrows his eyebrows and looks at the other pocket, taking out a lighter.

Daryl flips the lighter open once and tucks it inside his front pocket after seeing a bright orange flame, and replies, "somebody's gotta have money when the people repopulate. Things won't be free anymore."

Rick scoffs, "you really think we're going to repopulate? Have you looked around lately?"

Daryl shrugs and kicks the body aside, continuing to walk. "We have to sometime."

Merle and Rick both roll their eyes in synch, following behind. In the distance, I spot the top of a tower from the city. It blinks a faint red and I squint, looking closer. Again it blinks and I rush up to Daryl.

"The tower," I point and he follows my finger, "it's blinking red. Is there electricity?"

Daryl smiles and shakes his head in disbelief, "survivors."

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