The leaves rustled as I pushed through then, pursing the large group just ahead of me. They were seemingly fearless, travelling right on the road and barely blinking an eye to kill a walker. I was impressed, and a little intimidated. Nonetheless, I followed them.
From the past few hours, I had gathered that they had more people than I thought at first, but I didnt know for sure. All I knew was, it would be easy for them to take me out in less than a second.
At the worst time, once the group had gone silent, I tripped. A twig snapped and I tumbled into a ditch, clapping one hand over my mouth to keep from swearing out loud and using the other to catch myself. I immediately heard the drawing of weapons and attempted as quietly and slowly as I could to stand back up.
A woman's voice floated back to where I was, her voice sounding like honey, or caramel, or whatever that expression was. Her voice sounded pleasing, but not at that moment.
"Probably just a rouge walker. I'll check it." She volunteered, and I heard footsteps leading directly to where I was kneeling. I shoved myself to my feet, and got ready to run deeper in the woods when I heard a sword draw, just behind me. I whirled around and saw a black woman holding a katana, looking extremely threatening but calm.
Using what Missy had taught me, my hand went to the rifle on my back, but the woman shook her head. Then, heading to my last resort, I slowly put my hands up.
The woman studied me. "You're just a kid, aren't you?"
I stared her down, giving her no response verbally or though my facial expressions. I was still ready to run, but, seeing the pistol on her belt, figured it would be better if I stayed put.
"What was it?" A gruff, slightly accented voice came from the sparse trees and shrubbery ahead. I pleaded to the woman to keep quiet, but she simply turned her head back and stated,
"Gimme a second, I'll be there." Sheathing her sword, she stepped toward me and grabbed me by the arm. Her eyes gave away a sort of motherly look as she practically dragged me to the road. I tried to push her off of me, but her grip was like an anaconda's.
Pushing through the trees and into the milky yellow sunlight, I saw myself standing in front of a group of no less than a dozen people, the majority of them drawing their weapons when they saw me. The black woman let go of my arm and joined the group. I stood ten feet away and slowly raised my hands.
"Found her following us." The woman muttered bluntly to who I suspected was their leader, a weathered, middle-aged man with a scrubby beard. The man motioned to all the others to lower their guns until only he had me at gunpoint.
"Put your weapons on the ground." He ordered. I recognized his voice from the one who called to the lady earlier. My eyes scanned the crowd before I did.
"Now." He barked. My line of sight fell upon a boy that couldn't have been much older than me, a baby in one arm and his revolver in close reach of the other. As I slowly took my rifle off my back, I tried to make eye contact with the boy wearing a Sherriff's hat, but he wouldn't let me, looking away everytime I met his eyes. I cautiously set my rifle down on the road, then my kitchen knife from the self-made holster on my hip. I stepped back away from them with my hands up again, hoping I did the right thing.
The man glanced down at my rifle and knife, then back up at me. "That it?"
I nodded.
"How long have you been following us?" His voice had a commanding, leader tone to it. Something told me that Sherriff's hat was his. I snuck a look at the boy again, but he avoided my eyes, staring right over my head.
"Only an hour or two, I swear." I could offer no explanation as to why; they simply seemed like good people. Better people than everyone else I had met.
He looked back at a gruff, redneck-looking man with a crossbow behind him. The redneck gave him a slight nod and he turned back to me. "How many walkers have you killed?"
"How many...what?" I gave him a puzzled look. A graying woman next to the archer offered a response.
"Walkers. Biters. Whatever you call them, the ones who try to make a meal out of you if you get too close."
"Oh... I don't keep count that often, but... Can't be less than a dozen or two." I decided on, keeping my hands raised. He nodded.
"How many people have you killed?" This question shocked me a little, but I felt slightly guilty as I responded.
"My older sister Becky, and a man I tried to save." When he didn't respond, I figured I should elaborate.
"Becky was bit and wouldn't... Do it herself." I glanced down at the group, staring at the dirt I had scuffed up with my tattered combat boot. "And I tried to save this guy from... Walkers, is that what you guys call them? By the time they had all dropped, there wasn't more left of him than a torso and head. I couldnt just leave him like that, you know?"
A black man in the back row nodded. He was wearing the outfit of a preacher, but I dont know how anyone could be faithful in this world anymore. I scanned the other people's faces, but the only ones who seemed affected was the woman who gave me the description of what walkers were, the preacher, and a tired looking girl in a ponytail next to an Asian boy. The leader, however, was unfazed.
Suddenly, the baby in Sherriff boy's arms started crying. Naturally, my attention was drawn to the loud noise.
"You guys have a baby?" My voice softened. "What's her name?"
"Judith." The katana woman who originally found me spoke this time. The leader threw a glare at her. "What? If you're going to kill her, what's the point in keeping things quiet?"
"Youre going to kill me?" I whispered. The leader sighed and shook his head. The road group went silent. Trying to break the ice and make everything less awkward, I quietly asked,
"How old is Judith?"
The leader opened his mouth to speak, but the Sherriff boy spoke for him. "She's eight months old. Are you done asking questions about my sister?"
"She's your sister?" I asked, starting a question that I shouldn't have finished. "Who's your mother?"
I immediately looked towards the graying woman, but she shook her head. A quick look at everyone else proved I should not have asked that. The leader stared at the ground and the Sherriff boy looked at the sky.
"Sorry. Shouldn't have asked."
"What's your name?" The graying woman asked, her voice a lot kinder than everyone else's. I felt compelled to answer her.
"Beth. Well, Elizabeth, but..."
Everyone went dead silent.
"You...can call me Danny, if that' better. I can just... Use that name." I could feel the tension.
"We'll do that." The graying woman was the first to speak up. "I'm Carol."
I nodded a hello to her as the rest of the group began to introduce themselves. The Asian boy and his girlfriend were named Glenn and Maggie, their leader was Rick Grimes, and Sherriff boy was Carl Grimes. The strong man, keeping to himself, was Abraham, and the girl next to him was Rosita. A skinny, mousy girl introduced herself as Tara, and the mullet man beside her as Eugene. I figured he didn't even know how to use a weapon.
Among the last to tell their names were the archer, Daryl, and the swordswoman, Michonne. The preacher didn't say his name and no one bothered to introduce him, so I decided I'd ask later. The thin black woman in the front's name was Sasha, I learned. I figured she wasn't that talkative.
Once all the introductions were done with, I awkwardly stared at my weapons, still on the ground a few feet in front of me. "So...Can I pick up my gun and knife now or am I going to be shot? Cause I'd like a heads up beforehand if I'm gonna die today."
Nobody laughed. Jeez, are these people humourless or what?
After a few seconds of exchanged looks from Rick to Michonne to Daryl and back, Rick finally nodded. "Go ahead."
Relieved, I grabbed my rifle and slung it over my shoulder, returning the knife to its homemade holster.
"Are we...just going to stand here all day or...?" My gaze swept across the crowd as they exchanged glances.
"Well, we better keep going." Rick turned around to face the cluster of people. I wasn't yet ready to assume I was going with them for much longer, so I kept to the rear of the group as they began walking. As they went, I noticed they formed their own groups of two or three, much like schoolkids in a recess yard. But, unlike them, they didn't seem to talk much, other than the now-and-then comment of, "Watch your step" or "How are you holding up?".
Since I knew nobody here really wanted to talk with me, I stuck to just behind the very back group, which was mostly Sasha walking by herself. Every once in a while, Maggie would fall back to ask Sasha how she was doing, but Sasha would always wave her off, claiming she was completely fine. Something about her told me that she wasn't doing that good.
After about ten minutes, I noticed that Carl had handed the baby to Carol and was beginning to fall further and further behind, until he was just beside me. I gave him only a glance. After the awkward tension dropped, I heard Carl mutter softly to me.
"The only reason my dad didn't shoot you is because you're a kid."
I stared at my feet as I walked. I was getting that a lot lately. "Well, I'll thank my dead parents for having me born so late."
"How old are you?" Sherriff Boy pressed, trying to look inconspicuous by pretending to look around. I figured he didn't want anyone to see him conversing with the new kid; just like middle school.
"I don't really know. Must be at least fifteen by now." I scuffed my boot in the dirt, stepping over a twig. Carl went quiet, before softly saying "Me too,".
More silence ensued for a little while, which suited me just fine. I was used to being quiet by now. Carl awkwardly adjusted his hat, before looking up at mine. He leaned forward a bit to see the stenciling on the front, which was supposed to be a silhouette of a cat, but was most likely tattered and ugly by now.
"Nice hat." Was all he said. I nodded slowly, shrugging my shoulder to adjust my rifle.
"You going to kill me?" I asked calmly, my eyes trained ahead for the sight of any shelter. Carl didn't seem shocked by the question.
"I don't think so, unless you're bit." He scanned me over, and stopped at my bloody shoulder. I caught him staring and he looked away.
"Don't worry, that happened a long time ago."
"Walkers or people?"
"People." I peeled back my sweatshirt to show him the ugly, half-bloody hole from a gunshot wound the year before. I had it healed up, but I keep tearing open the scar and bleeding myself practically dry each time.
Carl winced visibly. "Why haven't you cleaned it up?"
"Haven't had time." I mumbled, setting the collar of my shirt back on it. I wasn't feeling particularly talkative at that moment, but I felt as if I could trust this boy. He was, after all, the first person my age I'd come across in months.
"How'd it happen?" When, I didn't respond, he added, "If I can ask, I mean."
I shrugged slightly. "An accident."
He let it go at that, since we had just come upon a dilapidated school in the distance. Giving me a quick wave, he jogged back up towards where his dad and Michonne were. The basic speed enhanced to about a hasty walk, getting faster as we neared the school. I forced myself to stay at the back, figuring the leaders wouldn't take kindly to the new one trying to fit in just yet.
Rick began to give orders to the group, staying turned with their backs to me. While they got in some sort of practised formation, I slipped away. Fast as I could, I sprinted towards the woods. I made it into the trees and circled around, finding a hidden part of the fence I could climb over without being noticed. Thankfully, I didn't hear any yelling, so I figured I still had time until they noticed my absence, however limited it may be.
I managed to hoist myself over the chain-link fence pretty easily, landing softly on the other side. The climb had taken a toll on my shoulder, but I simply stretched it out and continued on. Heading for the least noticeable building in the back, I drew my knife and kept my ears perked for any sounds. Luckily, I reached the heavy metal door without any distractions. Seemed school was out on Day One of Hell.
All the structures in this school were interconnected with brick hallways, but I figured that, with the lights out, it would be difficult to see in. Something in me hoped that I would find the cafeteria, maybe to be some use to the group. But, as I pulled open the surprisingly unlocked door, I saw that it was not the case.
Instead, I found myself in the dimly-lit backroom of what was definitely the school library. I recognized the filing cabinets and book carts from when I used to be a teacher's assistant in sixth grade. I ducked down behind the false-granite counter and listened.
Soft growls came from the right side of the room. It was lower pitched, so I figured it was an adult, but not low enough to be male. Peeking over the counter, I saw an overturned library shelf pinning a female biter to the floor. Judging by the amount of wet gore and dried blood, I figured that her legs and lower spine were shattered. That's probably what did her in.
Turns out it would be an easy kill, then. Hopping lightly over the counter, I set track towards the rotten woman. She turned her head toward me, glassy eyes locking on me lazily, her arms waving in pursuit of food. I crouched down beside her and waved.
"Sorry, Ma'am. You're going to have to go hungry today. No more nasty cafeteria food for you, I suppose." She tried to grab my arm, but was too late. I sunk the blade of my knife into her skull calmly, disregarding the hollow, damp squishing noise it made as I pulled out the knife. I wiped the gross blood on my jeans and stood straight again. A quick scan around the library proved no one else to be there, but you can never be too sure. Putting my index finger and thumb in my mouth, I did a short, loud whistle.
No shuffling, no growling, nothing. Still, I searched all the aisleways and the back room one more time. Nothing and no-one appeared, so I set to work barricading the place. After checking that the door to the hallway was unlocked, I pushed two or three metal library carts in front of the back door. The steel exterior of the door should be enough to keep any stray biters out, but you can never be too safe.
I pondered going back to rejoin the group but, after about ten minutes, there was no way I could excuse that long of an absence. A slight giggle rose in my throat. Just like normal school. And anyway, if they really wanted to find me, the group of them couldn't clear out almost the entire school in five minutes. So, instead of heading back out, I decided to search the library for anything useful.
As I doubted that the twice-dead librarian would have anything useful on her, I turned towards the back room instead. I had merely scanned the room, and there was no point in skipping it all together. As I pushed open the flimsy, wood-panel door, I instantly ducked down. Force of habit, but I suppose it helped. Almost the instant I ducked down, my sight fell upon a half-empty box of granola bars, no doubt for the kids who forgot lunch. I took off my bag and set my rifle down on the floor, shoving the remaining bars in. I also found a flashlight and scissors, which were added to my collection.
Not much more could be found underneath the counter, in all honesty. Nothing else useful, just some overdue books and inkpads and stamps, anyway. The file cabinets and shelves held no more treasures, and it seemed that the small discovery was all that the small library could offer. Nonetheless, I picked up my rifle and backpack and settled down on a couch in the corner of the room, on the same wall as the hallway door but out of sight of any windows.
I had only sat there, drinking off of a water bottle, for ten minutes before I heard the door open. Out of instinct, I pressed myself against the wall and screwed the lid back on the water bottle. I was given enough time to shove it back in my bag soundlessly before Carl pushed open the door. Pistol drawn and Sherriff's hat slipping over his eyes, he looked furious. He scanned the side of the library that I wasn't on, and his eyes seemed to fall upon the dead librarian. He slowly made his way over to it, raising his pistol again.
Slowly, quietly, I picked up my rifle and tiptoed across the carpeted floor until I wasn't more but five feet behind him. I stayed silent while he observed my handiwork.
"Hi there." I said cheerfully when the turned around. He jumped and nearly shot me, I knew that, but I wasn't intimidated. After you're actually shot once or twice, you tend to get used to it. Carl shot me a look that could melt the entire North Pole.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He hissed, taking a step towards me. I shrugged slightly, rolling my eyes, but he only nabbed my rifle while I wasn't looking and held it behind him.
"Hey, that's mi-" I began, but he cut me off.
"Who said you could go off on your own? You could still be a threat to us, and you're not getting away until we know just what you're up to." His voice was low and angry, but I wasn't phased by it. I blinked at him calmly, a little annoyed that I had to look up to his eyes. He was about four inches taller than me, meaning I just slightly had to look up at him.
"Are you just here to growl at me?" I spun around on my heel and began walking back to where I had set my backpack, putting a sashay in my walk just to be extra sassy. Carl wasn't dangerous and I could tell.
He let me get a few steps away from him before I heard him drop my rifle and practically run after me. I had expected that, but what I didn't expect was him grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around so I faced him, then throwing me over his shoulder. He nearly bucked at my weight, but it was probably more that I kept kicking around that threw him off a little.
"I'M TO KICK YOUR ASS, CARL GRIMES!" I cried, trying my hardest to kick him in the dick.
"You're being arrested." He tried to keep his voice calm, but he was snickering. "Now, keep quiet, or do I have to shut you up too?"
I wanted to pretend I didn't know what he was alluding to, but I did. I hissed at him, glad he couldn't see my face, which had turned bright pink. I decided that I would be quiet for now, and stared at the dusty, freckled tile beneath us as he carried me back to where everyone else was. God, I hated this kid.
As we got closer to voices, I began to squirm around again, but Carl held me firmly over his shoulder. I had to admire the fact that he could carry me so easily, even if I was super skinny from not eating properly for nearly two years. I knew I was getting heavy for him when he nearly dropped me while opening the door. We were doused in light all of a sudden, and from what I saw I was pretty sure we were in a cafeteria/gym combination. Everyone else stopped talking when Carl entered.
I could hear the dorky smile in his voice as he stated, "I found her."
A few chuckles were heard, but I kept a scowl on my face. Carl heaved me off his shoulder and dropped me on the floor in a sitting position. "She was holed up in the library. Cleaned the place out."
Daryl and Rick had identical frowns on their faces. Michonne and Carol looked amused, along with Maggie and Glenn, but the rest look very indifferent to the situation.
"Told you we should've just left her there." Daryl growled gruffly, glaring at me. I glared back.
"That'd be a death sentence." Rick responded in my favour, but he still sounded hostile. Which was fair, I understood, but I didn't care. Carl stayed beside me, his hand on his holstered pistol, which I hoped was just for show.
"Tie her wrists together, Carl." Rick addressed his son, nodding toward his bag. Carl nodded in response and seemed to know exactly where the rope was. I glared furiously at him as he hesitated walking towards me until everyone had their backs turned to talk about me. He winked at me as he stepped towards me. He was apparently very good at knots, and tied it a little bit tighter than he probably should have. Then, Carl joined the rest of the group across the room to discuss what they would do with me.
Meanwhile, I awkwardly kneeled on the cold tile. The cold actually bit through the cuts in my jeans and seeped into my skin, but I didn't care. As the light in the room faded into darkness of the night, I started to doze off. Their group was still talking, but Carl and Rick specifically kept shooting glances back at me. I didn't mind and managed to fall into a light sleep eventually.