Chapter 57: A Show of True Emotion
If he didn't go in to refuel, he wouldn't be able to keep riding the motorcycle. The vast and sparsely populated geography of the United States basically meant that Shawn's only choice was to turn back. The idea of finding Daryl and the others was completely unrealistic. But to get to the gas pump, he had to push his bike through hundreds of walkers.
"Unless I can fly, how the hell am I supposed to get through this?"
Shawn had made up his mind to retreat. At worst, he could go back to the Prison and get the Red Tyrant, then take his time looking for them. But just as he took a few steps back, he suddenly saw a flag made of a pair of floral shorts flying above the convenience store next to the gas station. The floral shorts fluttered in the breeze, looking quite vibrant in the sun. Shawn noticed them in a flash.
"Hm?"
Shawn squinted. He saw a head leaning over next to the shorts.
'Could it be…' A thought suddenly struck him. He looked again at the center of the walker gathering—the two motorcycles were indeed parked there quietly. The gas nozzles were still In the tanks, a clear sign that their owners had left in a hurry.
Looking away, Shawn rubbed his forehead in frustration.
"No way… it's really them. They're really good at making trouble for me."
Originally, Shawn had planned to leave and come back later. But since Daryl and Merle were trapped here, he naturally couldn't leave. They had been away from the convoy for a while. They had only left temporarily, so they hadn't brought much food or water. If he didn't save them now, he would probably only find two walkers when he came back later.
Daryl and Merle would also turn into walkers after they died.
"But how do I get around a horde of this size…"
Shawn thought carefully, until his eyes swept over a tanker truck with its door half-open. His eyes lit up.
***
At the gas station, on top of the convenience store.
Merle's face was a little pale. He propped himself up and looked around. Seeing the horde, which seemed to be growing even larger, he felt a sense of despair. After a couple of dry, miserable laughs, he fumbled around and lay back down on the ground. Beside him, Daryl had draped his black shirt over his head.
"I'd advise you to move less. Any movement consumes food and water."
"Do what I'm doing. Cover your head with your clothes."
"Otherwise, in this kind of weather, you'll be roasted into jerky. You won't even make it through tonight."
The voice came from under the black shirt. Daryl's voice was weak. Compared to his previous deliberate low tones, he now truly lacked the strength to speak.
"Tonight?" Merle said lazily.
"The rainwater we collected the day before yesterday is almost gone. We didn't bring any food when we left in a hurry."
"If we can't solve the problem of the horde, we'll starve or die of thirst sooner or later."
"Little brother, promise me."
"If I die first, you eat my body, drink my blood, and you have to escape."
At this moment, Merle still didn't know that the virus was already dormant in his body, and that he would turn into a walker as soon as he died.
Merle's words made Daryl fall silent. But not long after, he ripped the shirt off his body and threw it onto Merle's face, covering his upper body.
"Are you an idiot, Merle?"
"Listening to you is like being in a pigsty and getting kissed by a sow. Just cover up and shut up!"
Daryl's lips were pale. Although his eyes were a little unfocused, the stubbornness and resilience in them remained unchanged.
"Hey, don't be a bitch."
"You're my brother. It's better for you to eat me than to let the walkers get me, hahaha—"
Merle struggled out from under the shirt, laughing without a care in the world, as if he weren't the one in trouble.
Daryl fell silent again. He squinted his eyes, it was unclear whether he was resting or reminiscing about the past.
"You know what? You've always been an asshole!" Daryl's eyes suddenly shot open and glared at Merle, his dry, red eyes seemingly full of resentment.
"When have I not been an asshole?"
"I'm talking about when you left!"
"…"
"Wasn't it a good thing that I left? That way, things wouldn't have been so hard for you at home."
"Really?"
Daryl no longer said anything about conserving energy. He ripped off his black undershirt, revealing the scars on his back. Merle, who had been lying with one hand under his head, looking weak but cheerful, couldn't help but sit up at the sight of the deep marks.
"I… I didn't know he abused you too."
Astonishment, confusion, guilt… what words could possibly describe the panic in Merle's heart at this moment?
"That's right, he did. Just like he did to you. That's why you chose to leave home back then."
Daryl didn't look at him, his tone even becoming casual. "Since you struggled so hard to live back then, why are you giving up now?"
"Merle, you look at these scars on my body. You owe me for all of them."
"You are absolutely not allowed to die before you pay me back!" Daryl suddenly grabbed Merle's collar, his face close to his, and said in a low voice.
They were brothers, but their ways of expressing emotion were completely different, even diametrically opposed. Daryl's care was silent and action-oriented, while Merle used his aggression to hide his weakness. Daryl knew where Merle's weakness lay, which was why he spoke to him in this tone.
Fighting aggression with aggression, fighting fire with fire.
All he had left was Merle, and Merle… was his brother.
"Don't fucking bother me right now, little brother."
Merle's eyes went a little distant. He shoved Daryl's face away. After turning his head, his eyes quietly reddened.
Watching his turned back, Daryl fell silent again. Something seemed to be swimming in his calm eyes. He quietly lay back down. But in the next second, he suddenly shot up again! His eyes were fixed on the area outside the gas station.
A huge rumbling sound grew closer and closer. A tanker truck, the same size as a fire truck, suddenly sped over, making a deafening noise.
At the same time, it wasn't just Daryl who looked, but also the hundreds of walkers gathered in the gas station!
The tanker truck's speed was not fast, only about 15 mph. It made a loud noise as it passed by the gas station, causing the large group of walkers to start moving. They went from a slow shamble to a trot, closely following the tanker truck as it drove off into the distance.
It was only then that Merle belatedly broke free from his sentimentality and looked outside.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. Looks like someone's here."
Daryl squinted his eyes, scanning the entire gas station. The sudden arrival of the tanker truck had led away seven or eight-tenths of the walker horde. Now, only a few dozen walkers were still wandering around the gas station, having not kept up with the truck.
'Schlick—!'
Suddenly, the sound of tearing flesh was heard, causing both Daryl and Merle to instantly look over.
And they saw a face with a brilliant smile.
"Gentlemen, it's been a few days. Hope you've been well."
*****
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