Waking Up Daryl was pretty disorientated when he came to. Being strapped into something as high tech as he was shouldn't have been possible. Not with the world the way it was. He unbuckled himself and slid out of the seat, landing hard against the floor before sliding the two feet across the isle into the body opposite him. The occupant was dead and no someone he recognized. Hell, nothing he saw was anything he recognized beyond the clothes on his back.
The dead body he was leaning against wasn't moving or trying to grab him, so unless it's brain stem got severed in the crash, because this was definitely a crash of some sort, it was recently dead enough not to reanimate. Yet. Daryl wasn't going to chance it and patted himself down for his knife.
Which was missing.
"Shit," he muttered and lunged across the space back to the seat he'd been in. The footing wasn't good, the transport he was in sitting too much at an angle to stay upright without effort. But the belts used to strap him in could also be used to brace him while he took a look around. It didn't take long to figure out there were backpacks under the seats with some very basic supplies. So the transport was probably a military one. Only question was, how in the hell had he gotten on it and who were the others he'd been traveling with?
At the sound of another person coming to, Daryl jerked his head around to watch them carefully.
Welcome to the Jungle He'd grabbed three backpacks from beneath the seats of the dead and used a broken off piece of metal bracing that had twisted out of place to stab each one of those bodies through the eye. They hadn't yet gotten to the point of walking again, but he wasn't taking any chances. There were more backpacks under the seats. Just that Daryl couldn't carry that much alone and the angle of the ship was one he didn't want to fight with. And, well, there were other people in there, too.
Some of them had woken with him. Some would wake up soon enough. And they'd wake up outside the ship because he'd unbuckled all the wounded and living he could that were still out of it and brought them out. Laid them out as comfortably as he could while he started going through the supplies he'd grabbed for himself. They could scavenge their own.
But since they were the only people around that he could see, he'd wait until they woke up before he went exploring any further. Maybe they knew what was going on.
Daryl Dixon | The Walking Dead
Daryl was pretty disorientated when he came to. Being strapped into something as high tech as he was shouldn't have been possible. Not with the world the way it was. He unbuckled himself and slid out of the seat, landing hard against the floor before sliding the two feet across the isle into the body opposite him. The occupant was dead and no someone he recognized. Hell, nothing he saw was anything he recognized beyond the clothes on his back.
The dead body he was leaning against wasn't moving or trying to grab him, so unless it's brain stem got severed in the crash, because this was definitely a crash of some sort, it was recently dead enough not to reanimate. Yet. Daryl wasn't going to chance it and patted himself down for his knife.
Which was missing.
"Shit," he muttered and lunged across the space back to the seat he'd been in. The footing wasn't good, the transport he was in sitting too much at an angle to stay upright without effort. But the belts used to strap him in could also be used to brace him while he took a look around. It didn't take long to figure out there were backpacks under the seats with some very basic supplies. So the transport was probably a military one. Only question was, how in the hell had he gotten on it and who were the others he'd been traveling with?
At the sound of another person coming to, Daryl jerked his head around to watch them carefully.
Welcome to the Jungle
He'd grabbed three backpacks from beneath the seats of the dead and used a broken off piece of metal bracing that had twisted out of place to stab each one of those bodies through the eye. They hadn't yet gotten to the point of walking again, but he wasn't taking any chances. There were more backpacks under the seats. Just that Daryl couldn't carry that much alone and the angle of the ship was one he didn't want to fight with. And, well, there were other people in there, too.
Some of them had woken with him. Some would wake up soon enough. And they'd wake up outside the ship because he'd unbuckled all the wounded and living he could that were still out of it and brought them out. Laid them out as comfortably as he could while he started going through the supplies he'd grabbed for himself. They could scavenge their own.
But since they were the only people around that he could see, he'd wait until they woke up before he went exploring any further. Maybe they knew what was going on.