Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, I really hope you like the next one :).

Michonne and I had been on the road for three weeks, and I had to admit, the woman knew how to survive in Post Apocolyptia. She seemed to hear the Dead long before I did, she knew where to find food that others had missed, or failing that, could catch a rabbit within a couple of hours of setting a snare. In fact, I was seriously starting to wonder what I was bringing to the table in this arrangement. If anything, I was doing exactly what I expected I'd do: slow Michonne down. She had saved my ass countless times when the Dead had caught up with us, and all I'd done so far was suggest sleeping in a building that turned out to be filled with the Dead, and start a number of awkwardly one-sided conversations.

Luckily for me, my lack of self-defence skills hadn't been too embarrassing this week, as we hadn't run into the Dead more than a couple of times. Alongside her knowledge of food gathering, Michonne also knew when to hunker down, when to travel on the road instead of through the woods (and vice versa), and when it was safe to build a fire.

Unfortunately for me, tonight was not one of those times, and so we found ourselves holed up in a freezing cold storage building on the outskirts of town. We had slipped in just before the rain started, but the hammering of it on the metal roof was enough to keep me wide awake.

I was sitting in the corner rubbing my arms, trying desperately to keep away the bite of cold. It wasn't working. I glanced over at Michonne, who was pouring over maps of the local towns on a small wooden table. Michonne never seemed to feel the cold. She also seemed to have this uncanny ability to sense what I was thinking, even without looking at me.

"You're cold." It was an observation rather than a question. She looked up from her maps at me, and I shrugged. "A little." I probably would've been more convincing if my teeth hadn't been chattering so much.

Michonne smiled. "You're the worst liar." She pulled a sweater out of her backpack and threw it to me. I put it on gratefully, and then moved over to her table, looking at the map she was examining. "The town here could be our best bet," Michonne muttered, pointing to a spot on the map.

I read the name of the town aloud. "Woodberry."

Michonne nodded, "Could have all kinds of stuff we need in there. We'll get moving at first light."

"Okay," I replied with a barely stifled yawn. I'd have to try and get some sleep tonight, rain or no rain. If we were going into a town we were sure to run into the Dead, and I'd need to save some energy for hiding behind Michonne while she did all the fighting.

I rolled my eyes at myself as I laid out my blanket on the dusty floor. Michonne sat down against the other wall, she usually fell asleep leaning against a wall or tree. I had no idea how she managed it. I rolled onto my side to talk to her. "Do you think we'll see many?" I asked.

Michonne shrugged, "Not sure. Haven't run into any on this road the past couple of days, but towns are always different." She looked over. "Don't worry, I'll keep us safe."

I felt my cheeks flush. "Sorry," I mumbled.

"For what?"

"I'm slowing you down, I feel bad you always having to protect me."

"Don't be sorry about that," Michonne replied.

"I'm not exactly pulling my weight," I continued, waving at my crowbar. "That thing may as well still have the price tag on it for all the use I've got out of it."

Michonne smiled, "I'll admit, you're not exactly battle hardened, but I like having you around."

"Why?"

Michonne paused for a moment. "It's like I said when we met, I didn't have anyone to talk to before. It's hard to stay human when you're on your own for so long."

I could certainly understand that, I'd been on my own all those months. Hadn't I forgotten what it was like just to have a conversation with someone? It was still difficult now, though luckily Michonne wasn't exactly a big talker. But she'd had it much harder than me, I'd been safe inside for all that time, but she'd been out here. How different would I be if I'd had to survive outside all this time?

I'd be dead.

We set off early the next morning, heading towards the town of Woodberry. I was both surprised and relieved to find we didn't encounter any of the Dead on the way. In fact, the route to town was surprisingly clear.

"It's so quiet around here," I whispered as we passed more abandoned cars. Though we were the only two on the road, it felt wrong to raise my voice any louder.

"I don't like it," Michonne replied, and I could see her eyes continuously sweeping the area for any sign of movement.

I knew what she meant, there was something about the absolute stillness that didn't feel right. We were on the outskirts of town now, and for an area as large as this it was so strange to find absolutely nothing. No Dead, no animals, just complete silence.

At that moment I was stopped in my tracks as Michonne held her arm out in front of me. She was staring at something, and I followed her gaze to the nearest streetlight. Hanging from it was a woman's body. She was naked, strung up from the neck with a single bullet hole through her head. But that wasn't her only wound, she was covered in cuts, bruises, and what looked like burn marks. I shuddered when I realised her nipples had been cut off. She wore a sign around her neck.

"Biters beware, we got bullets for all of you." I read the sign out loud. "Not exactly catchy." I could feel my voice wavering. "Do you think she was one of the…you know, when they did that?"

"I hope so," Michonne muttered. She looked around anxiously, but all was quiet on the road ahead.

"Who do you think did it?" I continued.

"I don't know, but it's not someone I want to meet," Michonne replied. "Let's keep moving."

We walked for another twenty minutes, and I was starting to think this town would have nothing for us. Most of the buildings we encountered were burned out, or completely picked clean. But I needn't have been so hasty, as soon Michonne stopped me for the second time that day. Before I could register what was happening, she had pulled me down behind a burned out car, pressing a finger to her lips.

I nodded, before carefully leaning around the side of the car, trying to get a clear view. "It's a wall!" I couldn't keep the surprise out of my voice. The centre of the town was surrounded by what looked to be a very recently constructed wall.

"There are people," I pointed to the nearest part of the wall. Four men stood on top of it: two talking to each other, the other two watching the road to the right of where we were sitting. At that moment a gate in the front of the wall opened up, and a car drove out. Michonne and I ducked out of sight as it rumbled past. I hadn't seen a working car in a long time, had they always been so loud?

When the vehicle had passed, we peeked at the wall again. How many people were there, safe behind that wall?

"We should go in," I began, before noticing the look on Michonne's face. "Shouldn't we?"

Michonne shook her head, "I don't like it."

"Why?"

She took a moment to answer. "I don't know, I just have a feeling."

I couldn't hide my surprise. "Michonne, they have walls, and people….and probably food and supplies…and guns!"

"There's something about it, it doesn't feel right. And that body…"

I shuddered, instinctively wrapping my arms around my chest. Dead or not, there was no excuse for that kind of brutality. Had that been carried out by the people living in Woodberry? If so, were they the kind of people we wanted to join?

I sighed, the relief I had felt when we found the wall disappearing as quickly as water down a drain. "Ok, let's go."

Michonne seemed to relax, and together we slipped out of sight before anyone knew we were there.

A couple of miles outside the town, night started to descend around us. "We'll walk a little further," Michonne muttered, glancing at the setting sun. I knew she wanted to get as far away from Woodberry as possible before finding a place to sleep.

"Help!"

I spun round, and behind us stood a thin, bedraggled woman. It took me a moment to register that she wasn't infected. Her brown hair hung in knots around her shoulders, and her clothes were spattered with a mixture of mud, blood, and God knows what else. She looked as though she hadn't eaten in days, and her skin was bruised and scarred. "Help me," she repeated, and I saw out of the corner of my eye that Michonne had instinctively reached for her sword. The woman's eyes widened. "No, please, I just want help. It's my baby, there's something wrong with my baby, my little Sam."

Michonne only took a couple of seconds to consider this, before quickly returning her sword to the harness on her back. "Where?" She asked, moving closer to the woman.

"In there," the woman replied, pointing to a small building behind her. "Please, follow me." She turned and ran for the building, and all Michonne and I could do was follow. She was running fast, and I was out of breath by the time we reached the entrance to an old fashioned bed and breakfast.

The three of us stepped inside, the only sound coming from the dusty floorboards beneath our feet, and the blood beating in my ears.

"Where is he?" Michonne asked. The woman didn't answer, instead hurrying to a room at the end of the hall. Michonne glanced at me, but quickly followed before I could tell her what I was thinking. Something wasn't right.

I followed Michonne and found myself standing in a large living area. There were a number of couches lining the walls, several bookcases, and an old piano. The woman was standing with her back to us, looking into a box which sat on one of the couches at the other end of the room.

"Where is he?" Michonne repeated.

"Right here."

I felt my stomach drop at the sound of the voice behind us. The woman turned around to face us, a smirk spreading across her face. I could hear the sound of several people moving behind me. I glanced at Michonne. She didn't look worried. She looked furious. She reached for her sword quickly, but not quickly enough. I watched helplessly as a man grabbed her wrist firmly. "I don't think so," he grunted, using his free hand to snatch the sword. At the same moment another man grabbed my crowbar and threw it to the side, then pulled my hands tightly behind my back. Two men stepped out in front of us.

"Nice work," one of them said to the woman, who continued to smirk. "How's your baby?" He asked, grinning.

The woman pulled a grotty doll out of the box behind her, looking at it with mock concern. "I don't think he made it," she said in a girly voice, before laughing and throwing the doll at Michonne.

The man turned to face us, holding Michonne's sword. "Where'd you get this?" He asked casually, holding it with both hands and swiping it through the air a couple of times. Michonne said nothing. He stopped what he was doing. "I said, where did you get this?" I could tell he didn't really care, he just wanted to hear her talk.

The woman, however, seemed more irritated. "He asked you a question," she spat, slapping Michonne hard in the face. Michonne didn't even flinch, and continued to stare in stony silence. The woman looked furious, but the man just laughed. "Not a talker?" He asked. "That's fine, it makes the next part easier if you're not begging."

My stomach dropped. I watched as he nodded at the men behind Michonne and I, and we were both pushed roughly to the ground. Michonne was stronger than me, and it took them longer to get her on her knees.

"I want that one," the man said, pointing the sword at Michonne. "Mare needs breaking." He moved over, taking the place of the one who was holding Michonne down.

A thousand thoughts were running through my head. I could scream, I could fight, I could play dead, I could run, I could let them do whatever they want to do and maybe they'll let me go, I could bite his tongue off. None of those ideas were particularly helpful, but before I had a chance to think of anything else, everything changed. Suddenly Michonne head-butted the man holding on to her in the chin, causing him to fall backwards. She stood up and kicked him quickly in the groin, grabbing her sword in the process. The man holding on to me loosened his grip, and I managed to shake myself free before he realised what had happened. I was out of the way just in time to watch Michonne separate her captor from his head.

Michonne grabbed me, pulling my behind her. Two more men moved closer, one had an axe, the other holding my crowbar. Unfortunately for them, Michonne was faster, and they both found themselves on the floor drowning in their own blood. I reached for my crowbar.

BANG!

I froze. It was so loud I was sure it had been a bomb, not a bullet.

But it was a bullet, and it was in Michonne's leg. I watched my friend stumble, and I was there just in time to steady her before she fell. The woman moved closer, seeing her chance, but Michonne still had enough energy to cut her hand off. She fell back, and the man with the gun ran to help her. I took the opportunity to drag Michonne, who was barely standing, out of the room. We were heading down the hall towards the front door, when I saw it creak open. More people were coming in!

"Fuck!" I breathed, pulling Michonne towards the staircase.

"Can you do it?" I asked breathlessly.

She nodded, and I helped her up the stairs. We had just arrived on the second floor when I heard a man call out: "Bitch! Where are you? I'll cut out your eyes bitch!"

I could barely see, it was getting so dark. I pulled Michonne into the nearest room, pushing her under the bed.

Should I run out of the room? I could distract him.

No, I could hear him on the stairs, it was too late. I grabbed Michonne's sword from the bed and ran to the door, wondering how long I could hold it closed. Then I heard another gunshot.

Who is he shooting?

Another shot, then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. I was frozen on the spot…Right up until I saw the door handle turn. I grabbed it, trying to hold it in place, but it was no good, whoever was on the other side was stronger than I was, and the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a different man. He was tall, broad, with thick black hair. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised, and slowly lowered the shotgun he had been aiming at my face. We stared at each other in silence for a few moments, before he asked: "You with him?"

He kicked his foot against a body on the floor. I looked down, realised it was the man who had shot Michonne. I shook my head.

The man didn't look too sure. "Why you here?" He asked.

I nodded at the body on the floor. "Hiding," I began, "He was trying to kill us."

"Us?" The man seemed to notice the blood on my hands for the first time, and looked around the room. He must've caught sight of Michonne under the bed, because he came further into the room. I stepped in front of him, blocking his eye line. I didn't want him looking at Michonne, didn't want him knowing how badly she was hurt. Not until I knew who he was and what he wanted.

He seemed to understand, and leaned his shotgun against the wall, holding up his hands. "I'm Shane," he said gently.

I didn't reply. What did he want? Was he looking to finish what the other ones had started? Or was he a good guy? Were there any of those left?

I could hear movement in the hallway, and instinctively gripped the sword more tightly. Shane noticed this, and I thought I saw the flicker of a smile cross his face, though he said nothing.

"Shane?" Came another man's voice. "Are we clear?"

"Got a couple of live ones," Shane replied, still gently. It was as if I was a deer, and he was frightened of scaring me off. Soon another man appeared in the doorway, the first thing I noticed were his clothes. He was dressed like a cop. I immediately felt safer, then shook that feeling away.

He could've killed a cop.

"Hi," the second man began. He looked at me, then at Michonne, then the sword. He had a kind voice, but I wouldn't let my guard down, and he must've realised this. He kept eye contact with me when he next spoke. "I need to know if you're planning on using that. We're not here to hurt you, I'd like you to offer us the same curtesy." I lowered the sword, but didn't let go.

"Thank you," said the cop. "I'm Rick, this is Shane."

"…Kate." My voice sounded strange. It sounded tired, but strong, untrusting.

"Who's your friend?" Shane asked, pointing to Michonne. I turned, Michonne looked drowsy, but she was still conscious. I looked back at the men. I wanted to trust them. "Her name's Michonne."

"Something happened to Michonne?" The one called Rick asked.

"She was shot."

The two men looked at each other, both of them seeming to talk without actually speaking. Then Rick stepped closer to me, very slowly. "You should come with us," he began gently. "We have a Doctor…kind of, he could help your friend."

I glanced at Michonne, I couldn't make this decision without her, but she didn't look like she even knew where she was.

"Look, we're not like those guys," Shane said, running his hand through his hair. "We can help you."

"You don't have to come with us," Rick continued, "But honestly, I don't much rate her chances if you don't."

They could be tricking you.

Michonne needs help.

She could die with them.

She'll die here.

I didn't really have a choice, at least this way there was a chance I could help Michonne. Maybe for once I could watch her back?

I took a deep breath. "Okay."

As I watched the men carrying Michonne to the car I prayed this wasn't the biggest mistake of my life.