So, I wanted to flag this as having Michonne as a main character, seeing as she comes up in the second series finale, but she's not an option yet, which is sad!
If you haven't checked out my other stories yet, please do! They're kind of like a series. Just go check out my profile-and please review!
Sayid
Lowering his backpack onto the ground, Sayid looked at Michonne and Georgie, the girl who only a week or so previously had been close to bleeding to death in his arms. He grinned in spite of himself. You would never have known. Hauling herself up the steep ravine, she looked as stubborn and determined as any of his brothers in the army. Even Michonne was impressed by her. She'd never say as much, but there was a level of respect in their mostly wordless communication. Even though Michonne had been ready to slice Georgie's head open, Georgie didn't seem to hold it against her.
"It would have been the sensible thing to do," was her only comment. In fact, accepting the sensible thing to seemed to be all Georgie was doing at the moment.
After they had pulled her back to the lodge and Sayid had managed to crudely stitch together her wound, he had attempted to contact Abraham on the radio, but with no result. In lowered voices, he and Michonne had discussed their next move. It seemed suicidal to stay in the area, with those mad men running around. But if they left, then they could miss out on their chance to find somewhere safe to live. Plus, they were potentially sending innocent people into a volatile situation. But when the undead's numbers had started to increase around their little lodge, they quickly came to a decision, go back to the town and hope for the best.
Getting to the town had been easier than expected. Even with the severity of her wound, Georgie was remarkably fit. She seemed determined to show herself to be of use to Sayid and Michonne, and when she realised they were going back to the town, she almost ran out of the lodge. Sayid knew that was where her friends were, her family, her loved ones. It made sense that she'd want to go back to them, protect them. Even if she was running into a situation so complicated it made his head spin. From what he could gather, it was the brother of one of her friends that had stabbed her. He hesitated to use the word 'friend'. From what he had gathered from Georgie, the way she spoke about him, it seemed that Daryl was more than that. But he didn't press for details, and she didn't offer any.
But when they had gotten to the town, it was abandoned, the streets littered with smoking piles of burnt bodies. At the main entrance, there were two mounds, with crude makeshift crosses at the heads. Georgie's face had gone ashen, and for a moment, Sayid had thought he would have to catch her. Michonne had studied the two crosses for a moment, and then turned.
" 'B' and 'G'." She'd looked at Georgie quizzically. "Who?"
"Oh no..." Georgie had bent over, supporting herself on her thighs for a second. "Ben. B is Ben. Adele's boyfriend. The only one any use with medical things. Oh God. Poor Adele." Sayid had rubbed her back, feeling useless.
"And G?" Michonne had no such tack, pressing on.
"Me of course. Georgina. Georgie." She'd turned away from the graves then. Sayid wondered what it was like to look at your own tombstone so to speak. "So I guess there's nothing left to do. What now?"
They'd scavenged the town, looking for supplies. The group must have left in a hurry, as they hadn't bothered to strip the town bare of food. Georgie even found a few items she recognised as belonging to her friends-a necklace, a teddy and an old plaid shirt that she slipped on over the vest Michonne had lent her. From the way she clung to the teddy, Sayid thought it must have belonged to her daughter Sophie. The most precious find came last though, a crossbow and some arrows.
"Why leave such valuable weapons behind?" Michonne had been unable to comprehend this.
"Because they're mine. No one else is the right size to use them." Georgie had snatched the items of Michonne almost aggressively. Swinging them onto her back she'd left the room, ignoring the looks exchanged between Sayid and Michonne.
As it had turned out, the crossbow had come in very useful. It had been decided that they would attempt to find the town themselves. Michonne had reasoned that given the tire tracks in the ground, that not only had Georgie's companions left the town, but that Abraham and the others had come to find them, and followed them to collect them.
"How can you tell?" Georgie had attempted to keep her hope concealed with only a partial amount of success.
"Did your friends have quad bikes?" Michonne pointed at the narrower set of tracks. "Aaron told us he'd come ahead on a quad, so we'd know it was him."
"Then it's settled. We make our way to the town." Using the map he had taken from the map, the three of them had poured over it, figuring out their current location, and estimating the location of the town. It had been decided it would be better to go to them, as it was likely that the town had been written off, and the three of them assumed dead. And now they were scrambling up a ravine, walking along the river so at least they knew where they were according to the map. Even though she wasn't 100%, Georgie had already proved without a shadow of a doubt, that the crossbow belonged to her. If Sayid hadn't admired her for her refusal to die before, he admired her for her precision with the bow; watching her take down animals and the undead with ease. The only thing that concerned him about it, was when she disappeared to retrieve her arrows. But after the first time she shot a walker dead in the eye, Michonne was more than happy to accompany her. Between her sword, Georgie's bow, and his guns, Sayid felt safe.
"Here?" He turned to Michonne. Even though she used to be a lawyer, Michonne had adapted to living in the woods very quickly. She had a knack for spotting things, things that could make or break a shelter. She scanned the area, and then nodded. Georgie scrambled up the last few steps and then stopped, looking at Michonne warily.
"Here's fine." Michonne spoke in her usual short sentences. "Lots of cover. High up. Difficult for the dead to reach. We'll be gone before they get half way."
"Then we sleep here." Sayid sat on the floor, unloading his bag. Michonne pulled out a bundle and started to unwrap it. The remains of two rabbits were inside, killed earlier by Georgie. They would be cold, but would make an excellent dinner. Sayid shook his water canister and frowned. His was empty.
"I need to go back down to the river, fill my canister." He held his hand out to Michonne and Georgie. "If you get a fire going, I'll fill yours." Both nodded and handed their containers over to him. Looping them onto his belt, he began the tricky journey down the slope. The land was loose, and he had to make double-triple-sure of every foothold. At times, he found himself clinging to over hanging branches, or almost scooting down on his behind. None of this mattered to him. If it was hard for him to get up and down, it would be near impossible for the abominations that were the undead to get to them. Michonne was right.
Finally, he reached the water. He knelt down by its edge and plunged his head under, enjoying the coolness on his skin. Only for a moment though. He couldn't afford to be complacent, not until he was back up in the rocks for safety.
No sooner had he thought this, then he heard a shuffling from his left. Adrenaline started to course through his veins, and his hand moved to one of the knives concealed in his right boot. Once his hand was securely wrapped around the handle, he turned his head towards the noise.
Not just one, but four undead were coming towards him. All were at the stage of decay, where even if one cared much, it was impossible to really determine how old they had been, race, age, anything. Sayid stood slowly, heart racing, blood pumping in his ears, but his hand steady. He'd faced similar odds and come out unscathed, but he hadn't come out that way by rushing into a fight. He forced himself to weigh up the situation. He could simply make a bolt up the side, but the likely hood of him slipping and falling into the clutches of these creatures was too great. And even if he did make it, they'd still be there waiting. And their moans could very well attract others. No, better to end it now.
With practised accuracy, he flung the knife into the eye socket of the closest creature, the one that only had one arm-or at least only one covered in flesh. Like a stone, it dropped to the ground, it's bones smashing as it hit the rocks. Before the others could react, Sayid rolled towards it and yanked the knife out of its eye. This placed him in a strategic, but dangerous position, in the middle of the pack. He had to move fast.
He thrust the knife into the base of the skull of the creature in front, ducking as he felt cold clammy hands brush the base of his neck. Pulling his smaller knife out of his belt, he spun around ready to deal with the remaining two. As he did, he was aware of a blur of something speed past his eyes. Suddenly, there was only one left. He blinked, taken aback, and saw that one creature was now pinned by an arrow to the floor. He looked up, to see Georgie stood on the edge of the ledge they were camping on, crossbow in hand, looking grim. He turned back to the remaining undead, to see Michonne calmly sweeping it's head off in one fluid, deadly motion. Kneeling, she wiped the blood onto a piece of moss and sheaved her katana.
"How did you get down so fast?" Sayid turned to the river to fill the containers.
"The rope." Michonne pointed at the slope. The brown rope Sayid had taken from an extreme sports shop in the city was lying there. "We tied it to a tree. The knots you showed me are very useful."
"I'll say." Sayid stood and looked at the bodies on the ground. None moved. That was good. "Well, lets take it up with us. And lets get Georgie on first watch. If any more come, it's nice to have the advantage of not having to be face to face with them." Michonne nodded her agreement. Both moved to the rope.
"OI!" Sayid looked up at Georgie. Didn't she know by now to keep her voice down? Why did she think he'd not just taken his gun and blasted the whole group away? She was pointing violently behind him. Were there more? Confused, he stared across the river.
"She wants her arrow." Michonne was already starting to climb.
Of course. Arrows weren't in limitless supply, but they were reusable. Sayid stepped on the creatures chest, and pulled the arrow out slowly. Georgie had shown him it was useless to force it, you could lose the arrow head that way. It came loose with a sickening, sucking sound. Wiping on the same moss Michonne had used, Sayid gripped it in his mouth and started to climb the slope, back to a sense of some kind of safety.