It had been a couple days since she had seen anyone. Alive or dead. She found herself leaned up against the rough bark of a tree trunk as she shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun that beat down on her face and chest. Her body glistened as the rays of light shone down on her.
"Fuck." She whispered to herself, wiping her brow with the back of her arm as she looked around, trying to take in her surroundings. Her head pounded; she hadn't eaten or had anything to drink since she had left her group. She sat down at the base of the tree trunk and pulled her knees up, resting her elbows on them as she let her chin fall into her chest, closing her eyes for a couple moments.
She awoke to the sounds of footsteps. Not the heavy, clumsy footsteps of the dead, but quiet, calculated footsteps of someone who knew what they were doing. She opened her eyes to see a dark figure standing in front of her, the barrel of a rifle staring her in the face. She gasped and held her hands up in instant surrender.
"Whoa!" She shrieked as she turned her head away from the dark barrel of the gun. "Hey! No! Don't shoot, I ain't a biter!" She cried out, closing her eyes tight to fight back tears. No words came from the dark figure in front of her. She opened her eyes and looked around slowly. The sun was setting. How long had she been asleep? She looked up at the man again, squinting her eyes to try and see his face better in the low light of the forest. "Name's Kristina." She said softly, her body remained sitting at the base of the tree.
The man just looked down at her. He looked rugged, like he hadn't showered in a couple days. His dark brown hair was matted to his forehead in the muggy heat of the southern atmosphere. He looked over his shoulder and let a loud, bird like whistle escape his lips, before turning around and staring down at her, extending a hand.
She reached for it and grabbed his forearm as his fingers curled around hers, pulling her up from the base of the tree. As she stood her head pounded painfully once again and her hand shot up to cover it, holding it as she held back a small groan.
"Fuck." She whimpered, the sound of more footsteps made her look up, fighting down the crying sensation she had in her gut from the pain in her forehead, and the pain in her aching stomach. She propped herself against the tree trunk again and look up, seeing that the man was now with two others. An older looking man, wearing a police uniform and a younger looking Asian guy.
"What's your name?" The other gentleman in the uniform asked, his hand placed strategically on his hip, fingering the trigger of a pistol. She eyed it for a moment before looking up at him, licking her dry, cracked lips.
"Kristina." She said softly, her voice making her head throb. "I already told your friend that though." She added, gesturing towards the man in the middle.
"Where you comin' from?" The officer asked, sounding rather impatient with her, like she was wasting his time out here in the middle of the woods.
"What's it to ya?" She asked, wincing as her head began to throb harder and more painfully. The man in the middle chuckled and shook his head.
"Answer the question. What are you doing out in the middle of the forest?" The officer asked.
"Takin' a nap, none the less." The man in the middle piped in. "You ain't got no gun, no knife that I can see. You askin' ta get bit?" He asked, furrowing his brow. She snorted and leaned her head against the tree.
"Last people I was with ain't really think we needed weapons. Said the Lord would help us survive if he deemed fit." She said truthfully. "Which is why I left them a couple days ago. I just up and left in the middle of the night." She added, her hand flying to her forehead again, her body slowly starting to shut down. "I ain't had nothing to drink in days. Y'all wouldn't happen to have some water on ya, would ya?" She asked, her voice hoarse. This is the most talking she had done in a couple weeks. Her vocal cords dry and delicate from lack of use. Not to mention her mouth felt like a desert, her tongue felt like leather.
She watched as the young Asian guy pulled his pack off and knelt to the ground, reaching into it he pulled out a bottle of water and strip of beef jerky. He stood up and took a step towards her.
"I'm Glenn, this is Daryl-" He said pointing to the man in the middle as he handed her the goods with his other hand, "…and this is Rick." He added, pointing to the other man in the police uniform.
Kristina took the water and beef jerky from Glenn and opened the bottle quickly, bringing it to her lips, taking deep, long gulps of water.
"Slow down, yer gon' make yerself sick." Daryl said roughly. Those words stopped her. She pulled the bottle from her mouth and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She bit into the jerky hungrily and chewed it, savoring its smoky, heavenly flavor.
"That's a pretty deep cut." Rick said, motioning towards her arm. She had cut herself on a barbed wire fence, had no supplies to bandage it so she had pressed it against her white t-shirt until it had stopped bleeding, then she just carried on her way, not paying much attention to it from that point on.
"Oh, uh… yeah. I ain't really worried about it." she said, taking another sip from the water bottle. Rick shook his head and looked at Daryl, he grabbed his arm and pulled him back, turning away from Kristina while Glenn stood in front of her, surveying her curiously. The two men whispered, looking back at her from time to time as she chewed her jerky slowly, the aching in her stomach slightly subsiding as she leaned against the tree.
"We have a camp, just a couple miles from here." Rick began, she hadn't even realized he had turned around, she was so focused on eating and drinking, the pounding in her head even died down just a little. "We have someone who can clean up that wound of yers, we have beds, food. You can stay there for a couple days but then you'll need to be on your way." He explained.
She nodded, not completely sure about wandering into the forest alone with three men, but what other options did she have? She'd either die here in the forest at the hand of a biter, or die from exposure, starvation, dehydration. She pushed herself off the trunk of the tree, her knee slightly locking as she put weight on it again but she steadied herself with the help of Daryl quickly wrapping an arm behind her back.
"You gon' an' fucked ya knee up too?" He asked condescendingly. "Girl ya jus' a mess." He added, laughing slightly as he hoisted her up. She awkwardly wrapped one arm around his neck and began limping back towards their camp. She chose not to tell them just how she had fucked her knee up. Not just yet.
After a painful walk through the forest, stumbling to her knees a couple times they had finally made it back to their camp. It was impressive, she thought to herself. A prison. With a gate. And locks. She suddenly became very nervous about going in there with these men. What if they tried to hurt her, take advantage of her? She couldn't really defend herself with a busted knee and no weapons. She stopped hobbling forward and bit her bottom lip.
"S'wrong?" Daryl asked, looking back at her.
"How do I know y'all ain't some kind of rapists?" She asked, feeling stupid the minute she said it. The men all looked at each other and laughed, like her concern was funny to them.
"We ain't gon' hurt ya. If we wanted ta do that, we woulda by now." Daryl growled lowly. She inhaled deeply and took her place back in his arm, her arm around his neck, taking small steps forward. She watched as a young boy came running to the gate, unlocking it to let the four of us in.
Rick looked at the young boy; who was wearing a police officer's hat, a small revolver strapped to his side along with a big set of keys.
"Go tell Hershel we have someone who's been wounded. Ain't nothing to bad but she need's to be fixed up." He said in a commanding tone. The boy nodded and ran off, up towards the prison as Daryl began to use his strength to hoist her up more, almost dragging her up the slope of the driveway.
"Ow." She whimpered softly as his rough, calloused hand scraped her arm, reopening the cut that was so tender, she realized how much it had hurt now. "Ow!" She whimpered loudly, her body really beginning to fall apart in Daryl's hands. He sighed loudly and handed Glenn his rifle. In one swift motion Daryl had one hand under her back, the other hand making a swift movement to her legs, picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way.
Kristina didn't really know what to say. She just kept her one arm wrapped around his neck, her other cradled against her chest as blood began to spill out on to her dirty white t-shirt.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I ain't mean to hurt ya." He whispered softly, looking down at her chest, trying not to notice how curvy she was. A female body, a nice female body hadn't been this close to his in a long time. He looked up at her and took in her facial features.
She was coated in a thin layer of grime. Her face covered in dirt and blood. Her blue eyes sparkled against her dirty skin as she caught him looking at her. He looked away as they reached the door to the prison, he grunted as he lifted her higher. She looked around and heard the loud clanking of a metal door being open and before she knew it she was inside, on a table, surrounded by people. All of them staring at her curiously, burning holes into her body with their eyes.