Post by Damon Carter on Jan 30, 2016 14:37:44 GMT -5
"Pretty boy?" Damon smirked a little bit at the nickname, but didn't argue. Next to all of these men, grown and old, with hate in their eyes and scars on their skin, he supposed he probably did look the nicest out of them. His hair had grown a bit long, down the nape of his neck and into his eyes if he shifted the wrong way, and he sported a light stubble on his face. But next to these bikers, with their tattoos and scars, he understood how he could look cleaner, neater. He held his gun at the ready and took the back with Tommy, who he still couldn't decide upon. He couldn't trust these strangers that had stumbled upon them, and he didn't like the idea of Tobias and his gang along with Dannie. Hopefully, after they cleared the way to the cars, he could convince Charles to go and check on her. He hoped that Tommy wouldn't become a problem out with the walkers, what with the forgiveness of Charles being a possible act, but if he did, Damon would be close enough to do something about it, or die trying. But for now, it wouldn't be necessary. "I suppose I should take that as a compliment."
They vacated the hotel room, and as they peered over the parking lot from their position, he saw the walkers that dotted the concrete in rolling shambles. Many had walked to different parts of the hotel, or had wandered off entirely. Some remained milling about the vehicles, but he believed that between the four of them, they could make it to them. Damon had worked on that car with parts from Evan's once he had passed, and as long as it could run, he would use it. He knew it was sentimental, but he couldn't give it up. Taking the car from him would only happen over his dead body, and getting the tool that he used to start it up, whether it be from human or walker threats, would only happen if they could pry it from his cold, dead hands.
"When we get down there," he said in quiet tones, "the bikes might be too loud. We can all fit in the car if we can get to it." He remembered what Tommy said about his bike, and nodded towards him. "We can grab the bike later. Better to get the friend first without causing too much of a ruckus." Even with the mutual knowledge that their bikes and gunfire had brought the small horde about, he figured that protests were still imminent, but if he wanted to run off and get his bike, so be it. Damon was more concerned with Hannah's safety, and at the back of his mind, its immediate relation to Dannie's.
They vacated the hotel room, and as they peered over the parking lot from their position, he saw the walkers that dotted the concrete in rolling shambles. Many had walked to different parts of the hotel, or had wandered off entirely. Some remained milling about the vehicles, but he believed that between the four of them, they could make it to them. Damon had worked on that car with parts from Evan's once he had passed, and as long as it could run, he would use it. He knew it was sentimental, but he couldn't give it up. Taking the car from him would only happen over his dead body, and getting the tool that he used to start it up, whether it be from human or walker threats, would only happen if they could pry it from his cold, dead hands.
"When we get down there," he said in quiet tones, "the bikes might be too loud. We can all fit in the car if we can get to it." He remembered what Tommy said about his bike, and nodded towards him. "We can grab the bike later. Better to get the friend first without causing too much of a ruckus." Even with the mutual knowledge that their bikes and gunfire had brought the small horde about, he figured that protests were still imminent, but if he wanted to run off and get his bike, so be it. Damon was more concerned with Hannah's safety, and at the back of his mind, its immediate relation to Dannie's.