Daryl was riding his motorcycle to a shopping center, desperate to find medical supplies. He parks his bike outside, shutting it off and grabbing his crossbow off his shoulder, making sure a bolt is loaded and ready. Upon entering the abandoned shopping center, he immediately heads towards the pharmacy. He looks through cabinets, drawers, boxes. “Dammit.. already raided.” He speaks to himself in a low, hushed voice. He turns around, preparing to leave. Just as he begins to exit, he hears a small crunch. Quickly turning around, he heads to the area to investigate, crossbow at the ready.

In the corner of the pharmacy, is a teenager, covered in what may be a mix of walker blood and their blood. Dirt covers their worn and tore clothing, and they look up at Daryl with wide, terrified eyes.

“Hey.. who are ya?” He speaks in a calm voice, lowering his crossbow a bit but still keeping it ready.