Who: Daryl Dixon and OPEN What: Arrival Where: The Train/He'd like to encounter someone in Car 17, the Entertainment Car. When: Today Warnings: Daryl has a mouth. Sorry.
Daryl Dixon had never considered himself psychic. He just sort of knew when to take a step back, and when to charge forward. Kind of like that Kenny Rogers song, about the Gambler; know when to hold 'em, know when to walk away, when to run. There was never anything supernatural about it, he was just a guy who knew how to pay attention to subtle clues and cues.
And when awareness hit him, he knew he wasn't where he'd been, last he remembered. For one thing, he felt the softness of a real mattress under his back, rather than the hard, uneven ground. He was inside a structure (he couldn't quite say it was a house) and not in a tent. The blanket on top of him was soft and warm, not old and thin, it smelled of fresh soap, not mildew and old dirt.
Right. Fresh linens. Because he wasn't in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Probably closer to the end. It seemed like the living didn't have much chance, anymore, and it was only a matter of time...
It was the growl of his stomach that insisted he finally open his eyes. He couldn't say for sure that he wasn't dreaming this whole train nonsense, but he knew without doubt that he was hungry. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and took in the sight of the room.
A train? How the hell was he on a train? Yeah, he was probably most definitely dreaming. Trains hadn't been running for a long time. Thing is, he'd never been on a train before, so why would he dream that he was on a train? A quick get away, maybe, the fastest way to get out of town. Maybe that was it.
Whatever, his stomach was insistent, and he was driven by a need to get food in his system. He stood, stretched, glanced at his crossbow propped up there by his bed. Well, at least he had his weapon of choice. He grabbed it, and started to move, exiting the small room.
He kept his bow at the ready. Dream or no dream, he wasn't taking any chances. He made his way out of the sleep car, into what looked to be an entertainment car.