CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
I woke with the old urge to go outside and check for walkers. I hadn't had that urge in a few days since we'd been fixing the fence, but here it was, the pressure building inside of me. My gut twisted around, telling me there was something out there. Something big. But wether or not it was something dangerous was a mystery to me and my gut.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore it. Daryl would be heart broken if I went out there. He thought I was finally over my obsession with the roof. But, apparently I wasn't. And according to my gut, I had no other choice but to go out there right now and check. Even if it was wrong, I could be dodging a bullet.

I looked over my shoulder at Daryl, watched him sleep, snoring softly. I sighed, and crept away from him reluctantly. He probably wouldn't wake up this time. But, in a sick way I wanted him to wake up. I wanted him to ask me not to go or just come with me. That way I wouldn't feel like I was sneaking behind his back.

I tiptoed over to the window and slowly raised it, grabbing my flashlight, and crept out onto the roof. I sat on top of the house for a second, my eyes closed, the flashlight in my hand, and debated on even turning the flashlight on. I could just as easily turn around and go back inside and act like it had never happened.

My eyes snapped open at a sound below me. I looked out over the field and couldn't see anything, then I remembered the flashlight and quickly turned it on, sweeping the ground down below. I caught something, a leg maybe? I ran back over the land, nothing but some trees and grass. One more time, this time I know I saw something. A face.

My heart pumped faster as my flashlight froze on the spot where I had seen the face, too far away to tell what it was. My hand shook, and I thought 'God, is a walker hiding from me? Really?'

My breath came fast and uneven, making my chest rise and fall in weird ways. I brushed my short hair back and squinted my eyes, trying to see. But nothing. Maybe I was really just paranoid.

Something moved again. I squeaked involuntarily and cursed myself for not bringing my gun.

"Who's out there?" I called out foolishly, wishing I hadn't. Walkers don't talk back. And now Michonne probably heard and woke up and thinks you're stupid. Or crazy.

Again, something moved under my flashlight. A lady. With jeans and a T-shirt and long stringy blonde hair and thick glasses. She held her hands up as in surrender and I realized she was human.

"Please! Don't shoot!" she called out over the range between us. Probably a good 100 yards.

My heart stopped and I stared at this woman. Was she alone? I couldn't see. I glanced back at the window, wanting to call for Daryl. What should I do? Oh my god..

"Who are you?" I yelled, mentally hitting myself.

"We're just looking for a place to stay for the night!" she yelled back.
'We're'? As in more than one? Oh, god. I needed to get Michonne and Daryl.

"Can you just wait right there for a second?" I yelled, nervously standing.

"We have children!"

"Alright! Just wait there for just a minute!"

I didn't want to take my eyes off that women, or trust her really. But, I turned from her and nearly ran back inside.

"Daryl!" I yelled, making him spaz out.

"What?" he yelled back, sitting up and shielding his eyes from the flashlight I hadn't realized I was pointing directly at him.

"There's people outside!"

"Walkers?"

"No! Alive people!"

He jumped up, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and a shirt, I ran out the door to Michonne's room.

"Michonne!" I stood a few feet away, not sure how she would react.

"Michonne!" I yelled again, and this time she stirred.

"What?" she asked hazily.

"There's people outside. Get your sword and let's go," I told her urgently, leaving the room to go back to Daryl, who was buttoning his shirt. I grabbed my gun off the dresser and sat on the bed, putting my boots on. When I was done, I threw my knife down in my boot, grabbed my gun from the bed, made sure it was loaded, and left the room, Daryl following behind me.

Michonne met us out in the hall way, sword on her back and flash light in hand and the three of us walked out the back door together.

The woman had done as I said and stayed put by the trees. We cautiously walked up to her, flash lights up and weapons at the ready. We didn't know who was hiding out of sight.

Daryl stepped forward, bow aimed up and ready.

"Who are you?" he asked, a few feet away from her. The girl looked kind of dorky, kind of tall and lanky with awkward features, thick glasses that she kept nervously pushing up and stringy blonde hair that's dead ends should've been cut long ago.

"I'm Morgan," she answered, her hands clasped together in front of her.

"You said you had children?" I spoke up, shining my light at her. She squinted against it and I lowered it a little.

"Yes, three. I have six people in all," she answered me. She was good at answering.

"Where are they?" Daryl asked, looking around.

The woman pointed behind her to more trees. There were sure enough five figures, three of them kid sized, standing in the shadows.

"And you need a place to stay?" Michonne asked, letting go of her sword.

"Only for one night!" she quickly added, looking timid. She turned and waved to the figures and they emerged, taking a few seconds before they got there.

"This is my husband, Raul," she pointed to a tall, dark colored man with a shaved head. He stood over her tall frame, and they oddly seemed perfect together, "and our three sons: Jamie, Robert, and Marcus," she pointed to the three boys, all looking about 7,8, and 9. "And this is Raul's brother, Tray."

Tray was tall, more tall than Raul. He was also much more buffer and was quiet. He had a chiseled jaw and was quite handsome in the awful lighting of our flashlights.

"I'm Daryl," he introduced himself, "This is my wife, Kyra, and our close friend, Michonne," they all nodded, and it was awkward. We were standing in the middle of a field, nodding and introducing ourselves at what could only be midnight, if not later.

"So, can we stay?" Raul asked, and he had a deep, calming voice.

The three of us looked at each other questioningly.

Daryl walked back to us and we began whispering.

"Can we trust them?" Michonne whispered.

"I can't let those kids leave and keep a clear conscious," I whispered back, looking over to the three cuties, tugging on their moms pants leg. She lifted the youngest one and put him on her hip. Which one was that? Jamie?

"But, what about the adults?" Michonne shot back.

"I think the moral thing to do is let them stay," Daryl piped up, looking over his shoulder at them.

"I don't know.." Michonne seemed uneasy.

"Just for one night. And then we question them in the morning and see where it takes us," Daryl suggested, his bow resting on his foot. Well, they let their guard down awful early. My gun was still at the ready and I didn't 100% trust these people.

"It's the right thing to do," I added, putting my guns safety on and pocketing it.

"I guess," Michonne shrugged, and Daryl turned to the family.

"You can stay here for the night-"

"Thank you!" Morgan nearly shouted, her hands clasping together like she was praying.

"But, we're not sure if we can trust you. So, you'll be sleeping in the living room and we'll have a talk over breakfast tomorrow."