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Chapter 1
"So Lylah, You want to tell us why we found you wearing sawed off handcuffs? I take it wasn't a fashion statement?" Rick asked bluntly.
Honestly, Rick was worried about what her story was. She didn't look like trouble, but he didn't want to bring more danger back to Lori and Carl.
She didn't want to talk about it. She needed these people, and was worried what they'd think of her if she told them. But glancing over at the sweaty lawman and his three companions, none of them seemed in the mood for evasiveness, considering they just saved her.
After a long pause, Lylah said softly, "I hurt a man...a powerful man" - a bitter tone tinged her words.
They all looked at her; stunned, except Rick who kept driving, not completely sure if they had understood her correctly over the subtle Irish accent.
"Why - what happened" said Glenn, baffled that this beautiful woman with big, gentle eyes could be capable of hurting a fly.
A sad faraway haunted look crept into her eyes as she continued. "Because he hurt a child... he killed a child."
"Your child?" Rick asked, knowing that would go a long way to Lori accepting this woman.
"Does it matter whose child?" she softly replied in an achingly sad whisper.
And with that, she turned her eyes and watched the Atlanta skyline slowly disappear in the rear view mirror.
Those words, softly spoken, brought a set of piercing blue eyes to strangely settle upon her profile, as Daryl Dixon watched her stare blankly out the window.
The ride back to camp, was hot and sweaty, but Lylah was still so grateful to these men that rescued her from the walkers. She thought she'd cleared them, when she realized all too quickly they had her boxed in. These men cleared the walkers so efficiently it was apparent they had become quite skilled at the task - they never even fired their weapons.
Introductions back at the camp were done quickly and efficiently by a tall handsome man named Shane, who seemed to naturally take command with his militant presence. The sheriff's wife, Lori, and son, Carl, were there, desperately happy to see Rick again. Someone (she forgot who) explained to Lylah that Rick had only just found Lori and Carl a day ago.
All the new names were starting to get confusing, but she tried to keep up: Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, Dale, Carol, Sophia, Ed (who gave her the creeps). She struggled to keep them all straight. Then there were the men she arrived with: Rick, T-Dog, Glenn and Daryl.
They were all being so kind and nice to her. Lylah was that much more grateful to Rick for removing the cuffs before they arrived at camp, so she didn't have to deal with their questions and assumptions. She would deal with that later …. or not, if she was lucky.
"Lylah, I think we're about the same size. Let's go find some clothes for you. I bet you're ready to get out of those nasty things, aren't you?", asked the beautiful, blonde Amy as she noticed the filthy blood spattered clothing Lylah wore. Amy also explained that Dale and Shane had just reloaded the RV's water tank so she could take a shower if she wanted; a cold one, but a shower nonetheless. "Oh my god, this feels amazing!", she thought, as she washed off the dirt and grime, and then shampooed the matted dried blood out of her hair.
Lylah put on the lime colored cotton T-shirt and pair of jeans Amy had given her. She
smiled in gratitude at the younger girl's thoughtfulness. It was difficult to find a pair of jeans to fit before the world fell apart, the fact that these fit as well as they did was a miracle. Anyway, they were clean and soft and Lylah felt like a human being again.
Her shiny dark hair had begun to dry, as she sat by the fire with the others to join them for the evening meal. She still was trying to wrap her head around the way these folks welcomed her in to their camp. It kind of reminded her of camping trips she used to take with her family.
Amy was younger than Lylah by about 7-8 years she guessed, but that still made her closest to the girls age, so there was a natural affinity there. Besides Amy was nice to everyone, that was just her personality.
"Lylah, Where are you from? Not Georgia I take it?" asked Amy detecting the Irish accent.
"No," she agreed, "I was born in Ireland – lived there with my Mom, up until I was a teenager".
"Beautiful place - went there with my wife when I retired", commented Dale. " It was so
magnificent and green. I didn't expect it to be like on the pictures in the brochures, but it really was," fond memories flooded Dale's eyes.
"I know, it is, isn't it?" she agreed with Dale. "I haven't been back in a long time. I miss it. I'm actually from Utah though. My mom married my step-dad, and we moved when I was fourteen…. pretty big change for us," she grinned as she remembered those early days of adjustment.
"I like the way you talk Lylah", said Carl.
"Well, I like the way you talk too. You know, to me, you have an accent and I speak normal" -
Carl and Sophia found that hysterical for some reason and started giggling.
As the kids set off to bed, not too long later, Lylah noticed Daryl Dixon sitting off by himself.
Somehow she felt his eyes on her. She glanced over at him, but he quickly bent his head and returned to the apparent fascinating task of cleaning his arrows.
As soon as she turned her glance back away, Daryl found himself staring at her again. 'Maybe it's cause I can hardly understan' a darn thin' the woman says,' he thought to himself, frustrated at his uncharacteristic lack of self-control….. Still, he knew he was lying to himself... not understanding her had nothing to do with this.
"You can sleep in the RV with us, if you want, but I'll admit, we're really getting tight in there - so I can't guarantee how comfortable it will be," Andrea explained. "We do have an extra tent and sleeping bag . . . I think there may even be a cot . . .", she generously offered as Amy also dropped off some sleep pants and a top. "I brought these if you want to change, sleep in something more comfy. We've been pretty safe up here, but still some people prefer to sleep in their clothes" she stole a quick glance at Daryl.
"You know, I think I'd like the tent if you don't mind. I've imposed enough", and honestly Lylah thought she wouldn't mind some time alone, to gather her thoughts. The women nodded at Lylah.
"I'll go see if I can find that fold-up cot okay", Andrea said as she went off to search for it.
Lylah quickly busied herself assembling the small tent nearby another tent. Even though alone-time sounded good, she wasn't stupid…. She still wanted to be near the others for safety. Again she felt herself being watched, as the hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle. She slowly glanced her head up to see Daryl Dixon leaning against the tree, watching her.
"You put this up by yourself?", Daryl grunted, secretly trying to figure out if she was the type to manipulate the men in the camp into doing stuff for her – the way that bitch Lori did. Daryl wondered to himself if Rick had figured out yet that Shane had been doin' his old lady?
Lylah looked up at him from underneath thick lashes and raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? My brothers would kick my a...", Lylah hesitated, then switched to " 'arse'.. if I had couldn't put up a simple tent. They taught me better than that". 'Oh god, did she just say "Arse"?' she groaned inwardly at how stupid she knew that must have sounded.
A snarky, almost-grin creeped across Daryl's lips. Then, just as quickly, he grunted, "Why did ya have to set yer tent up so close to mine? I like my privacy." He glared down at her, obviously seeking to intimidate her into re-assembling the tent elsewhere.
Lylah stood up quickly, surprising Daryl a bit by how quickly she had moved. She stood almost nose to nose with him and looked him straight in the eye. It was times like these she was glad to be 5'9".
"Daryl, I am really sorry," he heard the exhaustion in her voice… "but I've had a really long day and I'm bone tired. I didn't know I'd invaded your space or whatever….. but you're bat-shite crazy if you think I'm moving that tent now." Daryl was stunned to hear her stand up to him like that - most of the women in the camp averted their eyes or just avoided him whenever he spoke.
The stood there staring at each, until finally Lylah just sighed, "Good night Daryl". And with that she dismissed him and finished up her task.
He took a couple of steps towards his own tent when Lylah discovered just couldn't resist. "Daryl? Why are ya needin all that privacy?" she asked coyly. With that she winked at him and ducked into her tent.
