Chapter Three

To my surprise, in my darkness, I heard voices.

"What happened?" A man, speaking low with an authoritative twang.

"She just come runnin out of the trees. Hollerin and making a fuss," Another man, with a deeper, husky tone. "She's lucky I'm a good shot, walker nearly bit her face off."

I was alive. Relief washed over me as I became aware of the ground below me, the air in my lungs.

"Did she say anything to you?" the first man, frustrated.

"Naw. She was out before I even reached her. Don't look like she's eaten in a while, didn't weigh nothin." The second man trailed off, "She looks pretty rough."

"Yeah…" The first man again. I opened my eyes. I was in a cell, lying on the bottom bunk and the two men stood just outside of the entrance.

One man, lean, with short wavy hair, I assumed to be the first voice I'd heard. He didn't look much like a convict. He wore a plaid button up shirt and beige slacks. I just hung, holstered, against his hip.

The second man was larger, with shoulders as wide as a semi. He had sharp features, and a mess of dark brown hair. His clothes hung loosely over his large frame. A sleeveless army green shirt and cargo pants made him look much rougher than the other. He had a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

I moved to sit up, but the motion was prevented by a set of handcuffs that chained my left hand to the bed post. I pulled my knees up and leant forward, the cuffs clanging.

The men, startled, turned at the sound. The smaller man stepped into the cell and reached a hand out to me.

"Hey," he soothed, "I'm Rick, this here is Daryl." He gestured toward the other man, and I flinched involuntarily at his sudden movement. I just nodded at his introduction, refusing his hand. He sighed, letting it fall down to his leg.

"What's your name?" he inquired, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. I hesitated but didn't respond, and curled up tighter in the corner of the bunk.

He just sighed and reached down to release the handcuffs. Then he walked out of the cell and I could hear him rummaging through a plastic bag.

The other man, Daryl, studied me from where he still stood. I rubbed my bruised wrists, turning my hands over and caressed my torn knuckles. My fingernails were embedded with dirt, and I had a few cuts and scrapes from trying to wield the knife I'd taken.

Rick reappeared in the cell and placed a water bottle and a can of beans with a spoon on the end of my bunk. He nodded at me and went back out, stopping to mumble to Daryl,

"Keep an eye on her."

I didn't need an invitation to start eating. I lunged for the water and struggled with the cap. It finally fell free and I put the bottle to my lips, trembling.

The liquid flowed gloriously onto my tongue and I gulped until half the bottle was emptied. I reached for the beans and brought a spoonful to my mouth. I moaned as I ate it, not having tasted anything in a week.

Daryl watched me intently as I devoured the beans and sucked the rest of the water from the bottle.

"Where'd you come from?" he hesitated, looking at my neck, "You with a group?" I just ignored him. I crept out of the bunk and retrieved the bottle cap from the floor. Screwing the cap on the bottle, I just looked around. There wasn't much in the cell. Just a chair, and toilet, and some bedding.

Rick reappeared with a younger girl, probably not much older than myself. Daryl stalked off as I appraised my new acquaintance. She has medium length brown hair and big blue eyes.

"Hey," she sat down on the chair opposite me, "I'm Maggie." She had a thick southern accent, and flashed me a wide white smile. I don't know why, but I wanted to trust this girl. There was something in her easy manner and the way she carried herself that made me feel comfortable.

"Kate." I croaked, my voice not sounding like my own. I sat back down on the bed.

"Pleasure to meet ya." She shifted in her seat, leaning toward me. "How long have you been out in the forrest? It's pretty rough country around here."

"About a week…" I fiddled with the hem of my shirt.

"And before that? Were you with anyone?" I just shook my head, fighting back tears.

"Okay." She cooed, placing a hand on my knee, "Why don't you come with me? I'll take ya to the showers and you can clean up. I'm sure I've got something that'll git ya."

I sniffed and nodded, standing up to follow her. She led me out of the cell and up the stairs to what appeared to be her 'room'. I looked around me at cell block C. The words were painted massively against the block wall. There were twelve cells. Some contained nothing, a few looked fully outfitted with bedding and personal belongings.

Maggie handed me a pair of jeans, a black tank top, and as she gave me a sympathetic smile, she slipped a pair of clean underwear between the other garments. She grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste as well as a bar of soap.

"Come on," She smiled, placing a hand on my back and leading me down the stairs and out of the block.

We walked down a long dark hallway, turned left twice and ended up in a room of open showered. Small white sinks and missing or cracked mirrors lined one wall of the tall room, while naked showerheads littered the tiled wall opposite. About fifteen or twenty feet up were large windows that leant the room some daylight.

Maggie walked over to a sink and placed the soap, toothbrush and paste on the edge of it.

"I can just wait outside while you clean up and take you back?" She leaned casually against the wall.

"That's okay…I can find my way back. Thanks." I knew my smile wasn't very convincing but tried anyways.

"Alright," She smiled, walking past me and out the door. I just stood for a second, not really wanting to get undressed. I walked over to the sink and stared at the haggard face in the cracked mirror.

My white blonde hair was tangled and dirty, wrapped in a bun on the top of my head. My face was a mess of dirt and blood with a dark purple ring around one bloodshot green eye.

I turned on the cold water tap and the water spilled slowly into the sink. I washed my hands slowly lathering the soap and rubbing my tired knuckles. Cleanliness felt so strangely satisfying and I was overcome with the need to wash away everything. I wanted to rid my body of the filth and residue of the past ten days.

I undressed in front of the mirror, struggling to remove each piece of crusted clothing. I stared at my figure. My entire appearance was savage. I took inventory of my injuries. A deep cut in my left side, scabbed and dry from when my captor had stuck me, an overwhelming clump of bruises around my ribs on the right side, dark bruises around my neck, all over my arms and legs, as well as a gash on my arm from falling out of that tree. I haven't even noticed it before. I touched my ribs and winced.

With a heavy sigh, I walked over, turned the eater on, and stepped into the stream. It was hot, and stung my skin, but I scrubbed purposefully; the blood, dirt, and sweat that coated my skin all falling away. I washed my hair, probing my tender scalp with my fingertips. Once I had half-scrubbed, half-burned my way to cleanliness, I just stood in the stream of hot water and shivered. I slumped to the floor and sat with my knees pulled into my chest.

I started sobbing uncontrollably. I cried for myself, and the loss of my physical innocence. I cried for the world, broken and horrid in its new found reality. I cried for the lost lives of everyone I ever loved. But mostly, I cried because of the realization that the living were to be as feared, if not more, than the walking dead. I was alone.

With a shudder I heard the door wheeze open and sucked in a sob.

"Uh, pardon…" Daryl, startled. "I was just- uh, sorry." He was gone as quickly as he'd appeared.

As I took a few shuddering deep breaths, I combed my fingers through my hair, pleading inwardly for it to cooperate. Then I was on my feet again, rinsing off. I brushed my teeth and dressed, wishing for a sleeved shirt to hide my bruises, and the gash on my arms. I wrung my hair ink the sink and let it fall over my shoulders.

I wanted to get back to that cell and so forever. So, I gathered my things and thrust the bundle under my arm, walking from the room.

As I swung the door open I was surprised to see Daryl standing there still, and dropped my things and knelt to hurriedly retrieve them. When I looked up, I caught him grimacing at the newly exposed skin of my arms.

"Maggie wanted me to wait for ya, and show ya back. Don't nobody want ya getting mauled by walkers already."

I nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. He turned abruptly and stalked off in the direction of the black. When we reached it, the block was humming with activity. I felt out of place as I glanced around at the motley crew that had gathered.

There was Rick, Daryl and Maggie as well as a young boy, another girl, a woman washing clothes, two men in jumpsuits, one tall and black, the other thin with red hair, an older man with one leg severed beneath the knee, and a young Asian man I'd noticed earlier.

As the boy turned around, I watched him pass a bundle to Rick. A baby. I stared, stunned at the small body squirming contentedly in the man's arms. The sight of new life in a dying world was overwhelming.

Maggie appeared in front of me, relieving me of my things. She presented the other girl and introduced here.

"This is my baby sister, Beth." She smiled, "Beth? This is Kate."

"Nice to meet you." She pressed her hand into mine, leading me into the group of people. She introduced the boy as Carl, Rick's son. The woman washing clothes was named Carol. The two men in jumpsuits were introduced as Axel and Oscar, and the young Asian man as Glenn. She brought me over to the older man.

"This is my bad, Hershel." She beamed, "He's our resident veterinarian turned doctor."

The old man smiled, then tilted his head and gestured towards my arm.

"We really ought to clean that up and stitch it."

I nodded and he gestured into a cell. Once we were in the cell, he turned to me.

"Is there anything else you need stitched or checked out?" He feigned concern, but I could see suspicion on his features. Still, I was in no place to refuse the help. I could feel eyes on my as I exposed the wound on my side. Beth sucked in a breath and took an involuntary step back.

"We can stitch that up too." He reached out and pressed lightly on my colored ribs. "How's that?"

I gasped a little as he pressed, clenching my jaw. He didn't wait for my response and just muttered,

"Definitely bruised, likely cracked." He smiled, this time it seemed genuine. "You'll have to rest up for a few days at least."

I nodded and he turned to busy himself getting the suture ready.

Compared to the pain of receiving the wounds, having them tended and sewn was virtually painless. As Hershel worked quietly, I watched the group.

The woman, Carol, was washing my shirt with Maggie's help and they talked in hushed voices. I watched carefully as Carol wetted my underwear and hazarded a glance in my direction. It wouldn't be hard for her to piece my horrid little story together. I was surprised at my lack of embarrassment or fear as she turned her pitying gaze on me.

The two inmates were playing cards, the red haired man, Axel, casting long glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

Beth and Glenn were hanging the laundry over the second level stair rails, and Carl was talking at rick as he fed the baby. I didn't see Daryl among them.

"Done." Hershel chirped as he clipped the last string and set his tools down. "Now there's extra bedding up in Carol's cell. You can settle into the cell between Axel and Oscar, and Glenn and Maggie."

"Thank you." I said earnestly. Even though I was hesitant to trust these people, I was more thankful to be clean and have a bed to sleep in. Rick handed the baby back to Carl and made his way over to where Hershel and I sat.

"Feeling better?" He was cautious.

"A little, I'm thankful to you and your people here. I'll be out of the way as soon as I can." His eyes darkened as I spoke.

"Don't worry about it for now," it was almost an order. "Were you with a group?"

I shook my head.

"Listen," he huffed, "You don't just beat yourself up like that," gesturing to my eye. "I need to know that we're not threatened."

"It was just one man," I started, not wanting to continue, "He won't be a problem to you now." It was a lie, but I wasn't going to give up more than I had to.

"That's fine."

The light outside was failing and Oscar hurriedly lit some lanterns as Beth set out some beans for dinner.

"Come have something to eat, and then I'll get Maggie to help you make up a bunk." And he strode from the cell.

I ate hurriedly, not saying much of anything to anyone, and Maggie got up to help me make a bed. She pulled out a pillow, and a blanket from a chest in Carol's cell. She handed them to me, and showed me to my cell. She offered me a flashlight but I declined, wanting to crawl into bed and quiet the thoughts pouring through my head.

I lay huddled up in the bunk listening to everyone clearing up and talking quietly. My mind raced, thinking of the man who'd kept me locked in that shed, wondering if he'd continue to look for me. I thought of my grandpa for the first time since my escape, and my heart ached. I lay there for hours just following my train of thought, until long after the rest of the group had retired.