Daryl looked around and shouted to Merle:
— There's nothing left here! They took everything!
The two brothers didn't waste any time and decided to move on. On their way to Atlanta, they stumbled upon an old, abandoned car. Despite its poor condition, they managed to get it running and used it to cover part of the journey.
When they reached the outskirts of the city, the chaos was visible even from a distance. Ruined buildings and columns of smoke rising in several places painted a grim picture of a world overtaken by death.
Daryl stopped, scanning the scene, and asked Merle:
— How are we gonna do this?
Atlanta was overrun. By now, he knew thousands of walkers must have infested every street, corner, and building. Entering the city would be more dangerous than anything they had ever faced.
Daryl paused, thinking, then glanced at his brother. A spark of an idea lit up in his eyes, though it wasn't a comforting one.
— I've got an idea… but you're not gonna like it.
Merle squinted, already suspicious. He knew Daryl too well to think this would end well.
— Don't even start with your bullshit, Daryl.
— Listen, it's the only way — Daryl replied seriously.
The two moved closer to the city, searching for an isolated walker to put the plan into action. It didn't take long for Daryl to spot one staggering alone. He pulled out his knife and approached without hesitation.
— This one'll do.
Merle grimaced in disgust as he watched.
— There's no way in hell I'm doing this.
But Daryl ignored him. With a swift, precise motion, he drove the knife into the walker's skull, taking it down quickly. Then, without hesitation, he began cutting into the corpse, exposing its guts. The stench of decay filled the air, making Merle gag and step back.
— You've gotta be kidding me — Merle muttered, covering his nose.
— Let's do this, — Daryl said, already smearing himself with the walker's blood and guts. His face and clothes were soon covered in dark red stains. The smell made him wince, but he knew it was necessary.
Merle crossed his arms, his voice tense:
— What makes you so sure this'll even work? What if they can still smell us? Or, worse, what if they just attack us anyway?
Daryl paused for a moment, looking at his brother.
— It worked for some folks I met before. Walkers rely on smell more than sight. If we smell like them, we should blend in.
— Should? — Merle repeated, his doubt evident.
Daryl shrugged.
— Got a better idea?
Merle hesitated, watching his brother standing there, drenched in blood. Reluctantly, he realized Daryl was right.
— This is the dumbest thing you've ever come up with.
— Got something smarter? No? Then suit up, Merle.
Left with no choice, Merle began smearing himself with the walker's blood and entrails, grumbling with every motion.
— This is so goddamn gross... I swear, Daryl, if we don't make it, I'm haunting your ass.
— Welcome to the club, — Daryl said, already gearing up to move out.
The two brothers began walking through the deserted streets of the city. The scene was harrowing: abandoned cars, corpses littered across the asphalt, buildings with shattered facades. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. Looters had stripped the shops bare, and debris blocked some of the roads. Here and there, flames still consumed fragments of the past.
As they walked, Daryl glanced at Merle and remarked:
— Maybe we should wear helmets.
— Helmets? — Merle frowned.
— Yeah, just in case a sniper mistakes us for actual walkers.
Merle let out a grunt of annoyance but couldn't deny the logic behind the suggestion.
— So, where exactly are we going, little brother? — Merle asked, stepping over a rotting chunk of flesh on the ground.
Daryl answered without hesitation:
— The police department.
Merle raised an eyebrow. For once, his brother's idea didn't seem entirely stupid. The department would likely have enough weapons and ammo to keep them alive for a while.
— But first, — Daryl added, looking around, — we're stopping by the hospital.
Merle narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
— And what the hell are we supposed to find there?
— Medicine. And maybe,Other things
With the weight of silence between them and the distant sound of moaning growing louder, the two continued walking, bracing themselves for the hell Atlanta had become.