"Took care of the dead 'fore they could," Daryl dropped his hand from Glenn's shoulder and to the length of twisted metal caked with dried blood that he'd stuck in one of the otherwise empty knife sheaths he still had. He'd been left with everything on him except his weapons. Same as Glenn was. Probably. Daryl didn't know what all Glenn had on him when he was taken, but if it was around the same time as him, then at least one knife and his gun. Maybe more.

"You're the first of us I've seen," he continued, this time his hand patted his friend on the stomach as he turned to lead the way out. "Found a few others I think could be ours, though. Good people, smart. Ain't been through what we have, but they're capable."

He ducked under the strut, then held the sparking wires out of the way as best he could with one arm so Glenn could follow, "Already grabbed a few backpacks from them that didn't make it. Keep yours on you, we can stuff extra shit that don't fit on the sled in it."