HAZARD,
❨ iv. the suited man ❩

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          "THANKS," SHE HUFFED sarcastically, getting up from the ground and wiping down the back of her pants. Her knuckles stung as she grazed them against the fabric. Tiny, toothpick like cuts were scattered across them, and she brought them to her lips, sucking on them and hoping to ease away the annoying pain.

          Daryl's impatience played at him too much for him to care about catching the girl, and instead, his curiosity about the voice from far away was much more important. He paced on the spot, his fingers playing with the metal on the gun, and his elbows twitching slightly, constantly readjusting the weapon.

          When she finally stopped wiping herself down, he bolted towards the sounds. Marley struggled to keep up with his eager pace and was panicking slightly as she had no arm to hold onto. Her thighs burned from being fallen on.

          When Daryl came to then being able to see his uncle's car, his uncle was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tall man wearing a suit with petrol canister in his hands, pouring the liquid into the car.

          The redneck's grip tightened on the shotgun in his grasp, he slowed his steps, mimicking what it would be like to hunt an animal in the woods. Slow, steady, even steps.

          The unknowing stranger still hadn't noticed him, shaking the canister to get every last drop down. The man's suit was torn at the edges but still kept its sharp look. His hair was still slicked back and parted evenly.

          Put Daryl and that man next to each other, and going by appearance... they were two totally different people. And that was true, Daryl didn't have a clue as to how different that man was to him.

          He heard light footsteps and knew that Marley had caught up with him and was now gripping the fabric on the side of his shirt. He wanted to flinch away and tell her to get off, that he was busy protecting her, but he decided against that. He pushed down every unfortunately reflex he had learned from childhood just to be accommodating to this girl he hardly knew. And he hardly knew why.

          Marley's gaze followed his, taking in the stranger's appearance. But to her, he was not a stranger. She knew him very well... a little too well for anyone's liking.

          She released the grip on Daryl, going forward more quickly, taking the lead in front of him.

          She was more afraid of the man yet less cautious than Daryl. The man, now behind her, squinted his eyes at her odd behaviour. He reluctantly followed in her footsteps.

          Her small hands fumbled with straps of her backpack as she slowly took it off and put it on the ground. With that noise, the suited man looked up from the nozzle of the canister, and his eyes captured hers. A smile rose to his lips, a toothy white grin, creating dimples in his cheeks. He immediately dropped the canister, rushing over to the shorter girl and wrapping his arms around her, pressing her head against his chest.

          Marley wrapped her own arms around the man's midsection, keeping her eyes open, watching Daryl as he seemed to stop at the sight of them both.

          "Whoa, whoa, man," Marley's accomplice warned Daryl, snatching a gun from underneath his jacket.

          With that, Daryl lifted his own, growling slightly under his breath, ready to shoot anything.

          Marley's heartrate rose, and she pushed herself away from the man's tight grip on her wrist. She stepped in front of them both, placing her hand on the man's chest and waving away at Daryl. "No, no, no!" She squealed. "James, it's okay."

          Said man took her hand from his chest and swatted it away, and when she went to put it back, he simply gripped it in his own. "Who the hell is this dude, Ariel?"

          Ariel? Daryl was confused, rightly so. This redhead was being adorned with a sickeningly regal pseudonym he had no idea what the meaning of was.

          "It-uh... it's Daryl, he―uh," she stuttered out, wincing at the grip he had on her. Her cut knuckles stung as he squeezed them. "Him and his uncle helped me get back home."

          "Back home?" he said quietly, his gaze wavering between the man shoving a gun in his face and his prize he had a hold of. "Why weren't you home, you come home before anything else. Don't you understand?"

          She nodded her head fearfully, tears springing to her waterline as his grip became too much on her hand and she feared he was going to break it... again.

          Daryl watched confusedly as the girl let James hurt her, she showed no sign of struggle or trying to get away from him. Instead, she kept her hand still, but shaking as he saw her hand go white at the sheer force.

          He wanted to go over there and tear the man away from her, and throw him to the ground, stepping on his hand in the process. But thinking and doing were two different things. Unfortunately, for Marley, he was only thinking.

          His finger hovered over the trigger for the gun.

          "Where'd you pick this hick up?" James accused angrily, but quietly. The venom in his voice dripped off the edge of his tongue, poisoning Marley's thoughts.

          "'This hick' is right here," Daryl finally spoke up. It caused James to lose grip on the girl, and he fully turned towards him, straightening out his grey suit. He confidently lifted the gun to point directly towards the middle of Daryl's forehead.

          "Hey man," James started, wanting to sound friendly but coming off a little too kind for the type of person he was. "Lower that gun, you're pointing it at my Ariel, now." James reached behind him and handled the fabric of her jacket, pulling her towards him so that she stood in front of him.

          Again, Daryl saw no ounce of resistance from the red-head. Instead she hugged her arms close to herself, looking into Daryl's eyes. Her own screamed a thousand words in different languages that all said the same thing ― 'Don't.'

          Daryl didn't lower the gun, he just kept looking cautiously at the man, keeping Marley in his vision.

          "Hey, you deaf as well as stupid?" James bellowed. "Lower the boomstick, man."

          Marley's chest fell and rose fast, a feeling she couldn't put a word to coursing through her veins and filling her brain with fire.

          "Don' think I should."

          A click of a gun and Marley's eyes widened at the sound beside her head. She found Daryl's eyes and he seemed to listen to her silent screams. Every ounce and cell of his body seemed yo shake as hee lowered the gun, reluctantly setting his sights off the suited man.

          James took a few more seconds before he lowered his own, and the side of his mouth tugged upwards. He put his hands on Marley's shoulders putting his lips on the side of her face, quickly pecking her cheek.

          His face seemed to appear ecstatic, like a kid who had just won free candy.

          It was silent between them, all before James decided to open up his big mouth.

          "Is he a Dixon?" he asked, directed towards Marley. She nodded meekly.

          "James Blake," the suited man introduced, patted his hands on Marley's shoulders, then gripping her elbows.

          Knowing his full name, meant that Daryl knew his reputation. Merle had mentioned him before, talking about how he had the prettiest girl in 'The Castle'. 'The Castle' being a strip club. However, Daryl only knew 'the prettiest girl' as 'Ariel'. Merle never called her by any other name, and everyone who knew about her called her that. All the men that knew her anyway. Daryl had never been to the club, so he had never met this girl. Now he knew who 'Ariel' was. She was Marley.

          "Yeah I've heard of you" Daryl said. His insides squirmed at what he knew about the man in front of him. The thing was... he could imagine him doing what he knew he did. 

          They were silent for a moment until Marley spoke up. "James, Daryl's uncle owns this car; He went to get fuel."

          James turned to her and got real close to her face. "We're gonna use this car for us now."

          "But, this is Daryl's car," she whispered. The aforementioned man couldn't help but hate James more as the seconds went on.

          "Well, we're taking it, ain't no 'Daryl's uncle' anywhere," he whispered, but Daryl could hear every word. He was thinking this man was stupid for saying his plan right in front of him. But he knew from that, that James was the wrong kind of cocky.

          James turned around and looked at Daryl, keeping his hand near Marley's scared face.

          "Sorry about her. didn't give you any trouble, did she?" James laughed, like he wasn't just verbally abusing someone so fragile. Daryl slowly shook his head.

          "I haven't seen your uncle, but I did see someone getting taken down by those... whatever they are."

          This made Daryl's stomach twist. He had a feeling that his Uncle was the guy that got taken down by them. This made anger boil inside him like hot water, going from a slow simmer to a ravenous scolding liquid.

          "We'll be leaving now Daryl," James said, in a tone like he was invincible, "I'll take her off your hands." James took a hold of Marley's arm and started dragging her to the car. He opened the passenger door and pushed her slightly to get in the car.

          From Daryl's perspective, Marley had stopped before getting in the car because her eyes had grown wide at the sight of something in there.

          "Get in, Ariel!" James boomed, and she quickly got in, lifting her legs up as not to step onto what was on the floor. That confirmed that he thought Marley was 'Ariel'.

          Daryl went to walk around the car to look like he was going to find his uncle, what he really wanted was to know what Marley was shocked to see.

          He instantly spotted that on the car floor, in the passenger seat... was Uncle Jess's crossbow.

          Daryl grabbed the back of James' shirt and yanked him backwards making him fall to the ground with a low yelp. He grabbed his Uncle's crossbow and turned to deal with James, but a fist came colliding with his jaw.

          Daryl dropped his crossbow and punched him in the gut, making James double over, but come back just as quick and tackle Daryl to the ground. Marley looked on in horror as they started beating each other to a pulp. She started rummaging round for anything that could help her break up the fight. A gun, maybe to shoot into the air to shock them. Anything. She kept glancing to them as they rolled around in a mess of fists and kicks as she sifted through the glove box. She slowly pulled out a red multi tool, and slid out the knife.

          Marley got out of the car and found that James had the upper hand. He was on top of Daryl, hands on his throat, slowly making the latter's eyes roll back in his head as the air was cut off from the brain and lungs. Daryl tried everything to get the guy off him, but he was slowly losing his strength with consciousness. He could see black spots and he could hear Marley shouting James' name. The (seemingly) winnder let go off his throat and got off him, strutting his way to Marley, Daryl quickly gained his strength and crawled after him.

          "You, little girl. You better drop that knife, or it's gonna' go bad for you'," James' growled. She backed up so much that her back hit the car behind her. She kept the knife up to her chest pointing outwards.

          He stopped in front of her, cocked an eyebrow, then took her small head in his right hand and pushed it back quickly onto the car behind her. She gasped at his actions and moaned as she grasped her head and dropped the knife. Blood started trickling down her forehead. He took her head again and slammed it again against the car.

          She fell to the floor, clutching her pounding head in one hand, the other to keep her from laying on the ground. This wasn't what James' wanted, he wanted her to be knocked out so he could drag her away. He kicked her stomach, that was already, secretly, painted with his hand-prints of purple. She fell to the ground.

          She heard an extremely loud gunshot, and felt something extremely heavy land on top of her.

          Her ears ringing and vision blurry, she turned over the best she could to see what was on top of her. She turned to see that James' eyes were wide and in her face. Void from life, and impossibly more cold than they were before, despite being an always steady abiss colour.

          She shook under his weight, started to have a slight panic attack that a dead body was on top of her. She started crying profusely, the tears streaming like full on waterworks.

          Daryl had shot him in the head, after crawling to the shotgun on the floor. He could hear that the roamers were more riled up with all the noise that just came from the commotion. He knew they needed to get out of there and fast. He now had a concussed girl with him, that just got beaten by James 'Jimmy' Blake.

          "Marley?" he said, as he lifted the body from her, tossing it to the left. She was shaking like a leaf, eyes wide, but she still looked dizzy. He knelt down and lifted her up to a sitting position to take a better look at her bleeding head. Whilst inspecting her as she shook, he realised that it was just him and her. His uncle was obviously dead, the crossbow and the lying dead prick to his left was proof of that.

          All he could hear was the breathy moans from the roamers on the other side of the lorry, and Marley's shaky and panicked breaths.

          Marley could feel her head become heavy and her shoulders become weak, as her head lulled downwards to where she could no longer carry it. Her breaths became more relaxed, and it wasn't long before all she could see was black and she fell unconscious.

          "Marley! Marley! Wake up! Ah, shit!" Daryl said worriedly. The girl had become limp in his arms, and as he looked around, there was a crowd of roamers coming the way his uncle left.

          He picked up the girl, one arm under knees, and the other around her shoulder. Placing her delicately in the passenger seat and strapping her seatbelt in. He turned to gather whatever they had dropped and put them in the back of the car. His uncle's (now his) crossbow; Marley's small rucksack; the multi-tool; Daryl's shotgun: and the fuel container. The walkers had nearly made their way over when he hopped in the driver's seat.

          Turning the car around, he furiously bit the inside of his cheek in frustration, feeling the forming bruises on his face. Too familiar a feeling for him.

          He almost needed a moment to just close his eyes and simmer in what had just happened, but crowds gathering just at the lip of his personal bubble set him off on a different path.

          Driving furiously, almost haphazardly, towards the gas station his uncle had talked about ― it would be best to check. Hope getting the better of Daryl despite his flimsy relationship with it.

          And there it was, a practical grave. But it wasn't riddled with headstones and flowers, nothing but lost souls and limp silhouettes. They haunted the grounds, and he couldn't help but let his eyes cast over the body that lay in the middle.

          Why hadn't he heard the screams?

          When his uncle had been left that way, he would have, surely, expected to feel it. Yet he blamed his hard casing as to why he could look, and look, yet only question why he didn't go out in pain.

          And he so he hoped he went quick, that was the least he could give his uncle.

          Before Daryl let the car emerge from the gathering, he looked over to the unconscious girl. He flipped back to the words that still echoed in his head.

          'It's just me... and her."

          He didn't know her. A little glimpse was nothing, seeing as Marley seemed to be a thousand word novel, with intricate illustrations that bound her in old, worn leather. He didn't have the time, nor it seemed, the effort to look through every page ― yet he seemed to have somehow memorised the ones he had reluctantly glanced upon.

          This girl, who let a man hurt her, and who appeared on their doorstep because she was scared of the monsters outside.

          He leaned over quietly, careful not to grace his hands over her, in fear of jolting Marley awake despite her comatose appearance. Taking the seatbelt in his hand, he tugged it over her curled body, clipping it in place and breathing a sigh of relief.

          Even if she was a stranger, and she seemed too complicated for him to genuinely get to know or even get on with, it was someone. She was someone; to him, now. It seemed he had a small roster, and Marley had her name printed on the front.

          Throughout his life, he had always felt it was only him against every single thing he faced.

          'It's just me... and her.'

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(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ note.
bye bye asshole 👋👋👋
good riddance
( edited ✓ )