As time progressed, I became steadily more aware of exactly who was left from Woodbury. In edition to the children and the geriatrics, there were only about a handful of proper adults. As luck would have it, these were the select few that no one could get along with.

Of course there was Karen, who was such a frigid bitch that no one tried to communicate with here. There was also John, the vulgar pervert, Wayne, AKA mister know it all, and then Jordana, my cellmate who barely spoke. There were also a few of the teenagers who didn't make the cut when it came to weapons training. That included Zach and Karen's son, Noah.

Tensions were running high in the prison. The Woodbury survivors were not used to such primitive accommodations. We had been accustomed to running water and electricity. In Woodbury we all had our own rooms and privacy. Here, we were all in such close quarters that we could barely escape hearing our neighbors breathe at night. It's not as though we weren't grateful for the roof and the protection. We were especially grateful to be out of the hands of the Governor.

For the most part, we kept to ourselves our first week there. Wayne was apprehensive of Rick, almost leery of him because we had been burned by the Governor.

I didn't buy into that. Daryl wasn't stupid like Merle. He wouldn't be here if Rick wasn't who he claimed to be. To be honest, I was shocked Daryl was here at all. He wasn't one to follow orders, but here he was, seemingly Rick's right hand man, following orders like a good little soldier.

To top it all off, we had been noticing the walkers traveling in larger groups. They were congregating around the gates in swarms, making everyone even more tense. Day by day, we noticed more and more overwhelming the fence.

Days passed and I hadn't spoken to Daryl at all. We would cross paths occasionally and he would nod in my direction but that was about all I was getting.

The food supply started to dwindle tremendously. We had close to 75 people to feed and from what I understood from looking in the pantry when I helped in the kitchen, the food here was in short supply.

"We need to make a run." Rick finally announced. "We need more volunteers since we have so many mouths to feed."

"How did Woodbury operate runs?" Glenn asked.

"The Governor had soldiers he'd send out. We don't know much about how things were run." Wayne said.

"What about the bunker?" I asked. I suddenly became painfully aware that all eyes were now on me. Including Daryl's. "Before Woodbury, we had an army bunker, at Fort Gillem, we would raid. It's out in the middle of nowhere. Seemed to have endless supplies. I'm not sure if it ran out or not. After we built the wall, they came up with… alternate ways to gather things."

"Could you get us there?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, but like I said, I don't know if it's depleted or not." I shrugged.

"S'waste o' time, if ye ask me." Daryl muttered from behind Rick.

"If it's close, I don't see why we shouldn't chance it." Rick decided. "Daryl, you're coming, right?" He nodded his compliance, trailing his thumb over his bottom lip and shifting his crossbow on his shoulder.

"Maggie and I will go." Glenn said.

"Count me in." Tyreese said.

All in all, Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Tyreese, Sasha, Michonne, John, Wayne, and myself all ended up on this little excursion.

We decided to take a few of the vehicles, two trucks that the prison survivors already had and then a vehicle we in Woodbury had affectionately named 'The Crusher.' It was a Land Rover with industrial strength brush guards along the front. She came equipped with flood lights and a set of rims with razor sharp spikes on it. She belonged to an apocalypse enthusiast we met in Atlanta. Ironically enough, her owner didn't make it to Woodbury along with the monstrous SUV.

I led them straight to the bunker. It wasn't far. From what Martinez and I could tell, they had basically made a fallout shelter in the middle of the barracks here. It looked like a military training facility.

Daryl pulled to a stop ahead of us and flipped his cross bow over his shoulder, instantly shooting one walker in the head before jumping off the bike and grasping his hunting knife, stabbing another in the side of the skull.

We all followed behind, coming to a stop and hopping out to make short work of the small pack of walkers that we had encountered. We kept our guns to ourselves, avoiding the loud noises, and making due with pocket knives for the most part. Michonne wielded a katana sword with expert skill and Tyreese stuck with a standard 64oz hammer. I had a standard bayonet that I had stolen from Martinez's belongings, among other things. I took out three walkers by myself.

"Is this it?" Rick asked.

"There's a cellar door under that truck." I pointed to the armored truck in the middle of the field.

"Under it?"

"We pushed it over the trapdoor so no one else would raid it." I shrugged. "Seemed like a good enough idea. I just hope it still starts."

"Does anyone know how to drive it?" Maggie asked.

"Martinez was ex-military. He did it all."

"How hard can it be?" Tyreese asked.

"You haven't seen the inside." I muttered.

It took at least an hour to get the armored truck out of the way. We ended up having to tow it with one of the trucks while the rest of us pushed it out of the way.

By the time we got the trapdoor open, we were exhausted. All the ruckus brought a few more walkers in our direction. It was only half a dozen or so, and we made quick work of the group before descending the stairs into the bunker.

"I can't believe all of this was so close and we didn't even know it!" Glenn exclaimed.

"This is amazing!" Maggie agreed.

"We'd fill up the buckets on the floor and attach them to that pulley and pass them out that way." I instructed Rick, showing him the system we had developed.

We started gathering food and toiletries and whatever else we could use and passing it out into the waiting trucks.

I rounded a corner past a few of the shelves and found a few sets of cots.

Sometimes when we would scavenge for supplies, we would get stuck in the bunker overnight. "We need any cots?" I asked Rick.

"Reckon we got enough." Daryl said from behind me. I moved the first cot and found a kukri lying on the floor beneath it. I picked up the blade, recognizing it instantly. It was Martinez's. "What's that?" He asked, taking the blade from me.

"It's Martinez's." I paused. "He had it when we left Woodbury."

Daryl looked as though he was contemplating something important. "You sweet on him?" He finally asked.

"Is that your business?"

"Makin' it my business." He bit under his breath.

"Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, Dixon?"

"Ain't jealous." He mumbled, stepping closer, looming over me. "Answer the question."

"We're just friends. We were just friends."

"Good." He muttered. He inched closer, leaning so he was mere inches away from my face, his clear blue eyes pensive and calculating.

Behind Daryl, Glenn cleared his throat. "Am I interrupting something?" Instantly, Daryl pulled back, turning to face his friend. "Rick needs your help up top." He informed Daryl.

"Be right there." Daryl muttered. He handed the kukri back to me. "We'll talk later." He said quietly before he sauntered away.

Glenn continued to stare at me as Daryl walked away. "I didn't mean to ruin a moment."

"It's fine. Nothing was going on."

"Daryl told us that he knew you from, well, from before, ye know?"

I just nodded. I was actually surprised that he had shared that with his group.

"It's hard to find a private moment these days, huh?" He asked awkwardly.

"Yeah." I sighed, spinning the kukri in one hand.

"Glenn, give me a hand?" Maggie called from around the corner. Glenn gave me an apologetic look and ran in her direction.

If I wasn't confused before, I definitely was now.