He walked over and pulled the waterproof tarp off in one motion.
Dust drifted down in soft bursts.
Under the tarp was a motorcycle.
Not an ordinary street bike, but an American cruiser with tough, clean lines and a solid frame, clearly modified for off-road use and durability.
The black paint was coated in dust, but still mostly intact. The tires were fully inflated, the metal parts showed no serious rust, and a pair of goggles and a helmet still hung from the handlebars.
"Whoa..." Even Daryl, who was usually so quiet, could not help blurting out in amazement.
He circled the motorcycle, carefully checking the engine, fuel tank, and wiring. Excitement lit up his eyes, making him look like a kid who had just found the toy he had always wanted.
"Harley-Davidson. Modified too. Crash bars, oversized fuel tank, off-road tires... baby. A real beauty."
Daryl murmured to himself, his fingers lightly brushing over the fuel tank with a rare kind of gentleness.
Merle came over too and let out a whistle. "Hey, now this is nice. Hell of a lot better than four wheels."
He circled the black steel beast with obvious admiration, running his good hand over the cold metal parts and sturdy leather seat again and again.
"Look at those lines. Listen to that sound. That's what I'm talking about." He shouted excitedly, waving his one arm around. "Once this thing gets moving, those walkers won't even get a whiff of it."
This modified Harley suited both brothers perfectly, in performance and in style.
Calista and Leah walked over as well.
Calista did not know much about motorcycles, but even she could tell this one was in excellent condition. It had obviously been carefully maintained, maybe even specially modified, and then hidden here to survive the chaos of the apocalypse.
She remembered that the Dixon brothers both loved motorcycles. They were both biker boys, and Daryl's motorcycle seemed to have originally belonged to Merle.
"Can it start?" Calista asked the question that mattered.
Daryl did not answer. He just got to work.
He checked the fuel gauge. There was still more than half a tank left. The key was hanging on a hook on the wall beside it. The luck of it was almost ridiculous.
He took a deep breath, inserted the key, and turned it.
"Vroom!"
The engine let out a low, powerful roar, then quickly settled into a steady rumble, like a lion waking up.
A faint trail of blue smoke puffed from the exhaust, and the thrilling sound echoed through the whole shop.
"Yeah! Fucking beautiful!" Merle shouted.
A rare, genuine smile appeared on Daryl's face. He looked at Calista. "This bike's good. It's in damn good shape."
Things had finally turned around.
It only had two wheels, so it could not carry many people or much gear, but this was still a huge find.
Leah looked at Daryl in surprise. His knowledge of and passion for motorcycles felt completely at odds with the silent way he usually carried himself.
Calista also let out a breath of relief and flashed an easy, sweet smile. At least this trip had not been for nothing.
"Alright, now we've got a vehicle." She clapped her hands lightly. "There's a fuel tank here in the repair shop, so fill it up first. Then we'll see if we can find Rick and the others. We need to start thinking about our next move."
Daryl quickly topped off the motorcycle.
Calista smiled as she watched Merle and Daryl, who still could not take their eyes off the bike. Their enthusiasm was infectious.
Looking at the rumbling motorcycle, Calista asked Leah and Merle, "Can a motorcycle carry three people?"
Merle, who had been talking Daryl's ear off, suddenly froze. "Uh..."
Leah pictured it for a moment. "Probably not..."
The excitement disappeared from Daryl's face at once. "What? You're leaving already?"
Merle suddenly seemed to remember something and gave Daryl a pat on the shoulder. "Hey, don't you have one too? Two motorcycles would be perfect. Daryl, you're coming with us, right?"
Daryl glanced at Merle, then sneaked a look at Leah, but said nothing.
It was too sudden. He had not thought it through yet.
When he did not get the response he wanted, Merle's expression darkened. Sounding disappointed, he said to Calista, "Guess we need to find another vehicle."
Calista shifted the subject, her eyes settling on the motorcycle with a mix of curiosity and excitement. "I've never ridden a motorcycle before."
In her previous life, Calista had been an ordinary girl who commuted by public transportation.
After crossing over, she had been too busy surviving and building a new life to ever get the chance.
Naturally, she turned to the sister who, in her mind, could do anything. "Leah, can you teach me?"
To everyone's surprise, Leah, who was always calm, decisive, and seemingly capable of anything, actually showed a trace of something extremely rare on her face. Embarrassment.
Leah looked away slightly. Her voice came out lower than usual, and a little quicker. "I can't."
The air went still for a moment.
Merle was the first to react, bursting into laughter. "Hahaha! No way! Leah! There's actually something you can't do? Hell, I thought you could drive a tank."
Even Daryl could not hold it in. A clear smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He turned his head away, his shoulders moving slightly as he tried hard not to laugh.
This woman, always cool as ice and absurdly skilled, actually had something she was bad at.
Leah felt everyone's eyes on her, especially with Merle laughing so dramatically, and her face turned even colder.
But she did not argue. She simply folded her arms and shot Merle a sharp look that cut his laughter off on the spot and turned it into an awkward choking cough.
Calista was caught off guard too, then found it a little funny. She quickly stepped in to smooth things over. "It's fine. Not knowing how is perfectly normal. Then..."
"I'll teach you!" Merle volunteered immediately, puffing out his chest.
"Riding a motorcycle's easy. It's just like riding a horse. Twist the throttle, you go. Squeeze the brake, you stop. Watch your me show you how."
As he spoke, Merle moved to swing himself onto the motorcycle.
"Merle!" Calista and Daryl stopped him almost at the same time.
Calista said helplessly, "You only have one hand..."
Daryl was much less polite. "What, you planning to use that metal arm as a clutch, or bite down on the handlebars? Give it a rest. Don't wreck the bike we just found."
Merle had been hit right where it hurt. He pulled his leg back with a sour look, but still refused to admit defeat. "Bullshit. My balance is just fine. One hand's still enough..."
"Alright, enough. You stick to driving." Calista cut him off and turned to the only person there who actually seemed reliable. Daryl.
He clearly knew motorcycles well, and clearly loved them.
"Daryl, could I ask you to teach me?"
Daryl looked at Calista, then at the motorcycle, seeming a little hesitant.
He was used to being on his own. Teaching was not his thing, especially not teaching a girl who looked so delicate.
From the side, Merle stirred the pot. "Hey, kid, don't you know your stuff? Show us something. Or are you all talk and no ride?"
Daryl shot Merle a glare, then looked back at the trust in Calista's eyes. In the end, he nodded and answered simply, "Alright."
The lesson started in a relatively flat open space behind the repair shop.
Daryl first gave Calista a quick explanation of the motorcycle's basic setup.
He did not sound like a teacher. It was more like he was introducing a familiar weapon to a teammate. Straightforward and without any wasted words.
"The important parts are balance and guts. Relax your body. Keep your eyes on where you want to go, not down at your feet."
Daryl swung onto the motorcycle and demonstrated how to start it, ride slowly in a straight line, and make a simple turn.
"Keep the throttle steady. Don't crank it too hard. If you feel like you're tipping, put a foot down."
Then he got off and gave Calista his place.