The man with the metal arm. Daryl had pinned him for being unconscious the whole time and had been planning on leaving him for last. He looked dangerous, but more than that, he looked heavy. And Daryl figured he'd best move the people who were lighter out of the way before attempting to tackle a load like that.
When the man spoke, Daryl clutched his make-shift weapon all the tighter. And when the man pulled a seat up and twisted it off like it was little better than a turkey leg, Daryl braced himself against another seat and reassessed the threat the man held. He had the look of someone trained to fight. And while Daryl hadn't seen many prosthetics in his day, he knew they weren't nearly that advanced before the outbreak. At least not for the everyday folk. Which meant this guy was military. And that supported Daryl's suspicion of being picked up by the wrong group of survivors at some point. When though?
He remained where he was, watching the man for several moments before giving a grunt of acceptance at the help he was clearly providing in getting the rest of the wounded and unconscious. Whoever the man was, he wasn't out to hurt anyone. Not immediately. Daryl would have to watch him, but he could use the help.
"Making sure they stay that way," he answered like the man was stupid. His own voice gruff, accent pinning him from somewhere south of the Mason Dixon line. "Grab the backpack off the bottom of that one and put it outside with the others."
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When the man spoke, Daryl clutched his make-shift weapon all the tighter. And when the man pulled a seat up and twisted it off like it was little better than a turkey leg, Daryl braced himself against another seat and reassessed the threat the man held. He had the look of someone trained to fight. And while Daryl hadn't seen many prosthetics in his day, he knew they weren't nearly that advanced before the outbreak. At least not for the everyday folk. Which meant this guy was military. And that supported Daryl's suspicion of being picked up by the wrong group of survivors at some point. When though?
He remained where he was, watching the man for several moments before giving a grunt of acceptance at the help he was clearly providing in getting the rest of the wounded and unconscious. Whoever the man was, he wasn't out to hurt anyone. Not immediately. Daryl would have to watch him, but he could use the help.
"Making sure they stay that way," he answered like the man was stupid. His own voice gruff, accent pinning him from somewhere south of the Mason Dixon line. "Grab the backpack off the bottom of that one and put it outside with the others."