I was tired the next morning, otherwise I would've tried to come along with Rick and Carl. They also might've wanted to have some alone Father/Son bonding time. I left them to it.
I put on my only other outfit I had, more plaid and jeans, and the other boots Beth gave to me. I was still breaking them in. They had a different feel to them than my other ones did, not because they were new, but because they weren't from my mom. My other shoes gave me a memory of the old world, but at the same time, my new boots gave me the feeling of my new home, and my new family.
God, here I am rambling about shoes. Way to go, Destiny.
It was mid afternoon when I was finally energetic, after a few hours of being awake. I went into the dining area, where Daryl, Merle, and Michonne were. Michonne seemed restless, tapping her fingers against her sheathed sword. Merle kept making snide comments to her, and I could tell she wanted to slice him to bits with the katana at her side. Daryl didn't want to pick a side, and he didn't say anything to Merle about his offensive comments.
"Can Michonne and I go out on a run?" I ask Daryl, because he's more likely to say yes rather than Hershel, who kind of treats me like a kid. Carol is on watch with Maggie so I won't have to ask her. Carol is more motherly to me, and would also probably say no.
"Rick and Carl are already out, we don't need anyone else leaving," Daryl says. Michonne gives me an odd look.
"I'm getting too restless in here, and need some air," I say, "I'm sure Michonne feels the same way. You should stay here with your brother, but we should go out for a little, blow off some steam, find some supplies."
Daryl looks hesitant.
"We won't be gone for long," I try to say smoothly, but it almost ends like a question.
Daryl adjusts his crossbow on his back. Yeesh, he never takes that thing off. I don't take off my weapon from myself anymore either, but still, a crossbow must get heavy on his shoulders after a while.
"Fine," He says, "No more than two hours," He just so happens to have keys to one of the cars with him, and he tosses them to me.
"Blue civic," he tells me.
I smile, "Thanks."
I look at Michonne, "Wanna go?"
Michonne shrugs, and follows me outside.
"I don't like babysitting," Michonne says to me.
I try not to take offense, and ignore that statement, "I thought you needed some time away from Merle."
She doesn't respond.
"So we should know I can drive, but, I figure you would feel safer if you drove, and I gave directions?" I ask her.
"Doesn't matter to me," Michonne is indifferent, which surprises me. I actually might've exaggerated a bit, haven't driven really, but, how hard could it be?
I got the hang of driving really easy, and Michonne seemed to not notice. I just remembered to not hit the brakes to sharply or the gas. Luckily, the car was an automatic, so I didn't have to mess around with the gears.
"There's this little shop a few miles away, mostly non-necesities," I say, "but it's worth a few moments of our time, if you want."
Michonne doesn't like the idea of going somewhere we don't have to, so I change my mind.
"Also, a convenient store is near-by, it's small and easy to miss by most people unless you knew it was there," I offer. Michonne seems more willing to go to the second place I mentioned.
"That settles it, I guess," I say.
We drive normally, and then a huge group of walkers comes out of the forest brush about 100 yards up. I slow the car and think. We could stay where we were and hope they don't see us, or try to plow through. I asked Michonne what she thought about the situation.
"They've already seen us, so there's no reason to stay here, unless you want to back the car up and turn around," She says.
I can barely see the parking lot to the store I was talking about. Is it worth it?
A small dark object flies across the air, from the same side the walkers came from, to the other side and off a hundred feet at least; because I lost the object amidst the trees. At first I didn't hear it; but when I open my window I can hear the loud horn making its noise many yards off in the forest. The walkers follow the sound, which incidentally clears our path. It had to have been a person who threw it, by my guess, I would assume a strong male, based off the throw, but it could be a sexist comment, maybe it was a girl, I have no clue.
Someone comes out of the brush, I ready my weapon, and jump out of the car. Michonne has her sword out.
He was a male, judging by the outfit choice and physical stature. Wider shoulders, etc. He wore dark jeans that were muddy or covered in dried blood. He had a limp when he walked, so I believe it was blood. There's a hole in his jeans where the blood was. He was shot.
He had a black sweatshirt on, with the hood up. The person wore a skull ski mask, only his eyes showing. There was a black drawstring bag on his back, full of supplies, most likely. He had brought a knife up and a gun up at the same time, the knife making a slicing sound even as it cut the wind. It was that quiet.
I walked closer to him slowly, keeping my gun up.
Upon closer inspection, I saw his eyes, which were a ever so light blue. Despite the lovely color of his eyes, he had a menacing glare directed at me. But his eyes looked young, even though he towered a foot taller than me.
"Was that you who threw the horn?" I ask, my voice bold and serious. My gun is still up, as is his.
He nods. He walks a little closer to me, and his leg nearly gives out.
"Who shot you?" I ask.
"Some bastard," he says gruffly. He nearly hops closer to me, and puts a knife to my throat. Michonne steps forward, but I waver her off with one hand. I put my gun down.
I should be scared with a knife at my throat. But for whatever reason, I'm not. This boy seems to be alone, or like we are; out on a run for his group. I can sense a loneliness about his eyes, and declare that he doesn't have a group.
I weigh out my options. I could turn into a wolf and kill him while he's surprised. I could give Michonne a look as if to say, 'kill him' because she's just hanging out right now, knowing that I want to handle this. I don't want to be violent, he's just being cautious about us, even if it is in a rude manner (putting a knife at my damn throat).
"Do you have a group?" I ask. His knife is almost cold on my neck.
He looks at me for a moment, probably wondering if he should open up about his life to me, a stranger.
Something softens in his eyes, showing that he's elected to trust me. He's injured, and outnumbered, he realizes.
"I was with a huge group of people up in a town," that set up red flags immediately. Woodbury? I looked at Michonne, and she seemed to think what I was thinking.
"But," he continues, " I didn't like how things were being run up there. Rumors were going around about the leader, and I didn't like what was happening up there. Everyone was living too peacefully, as if none of this shit was happening-,"
I was trying to let him talk, but I couldn't stop myself from blurting, "Were you in Woodbury?"
His eyes widen slightly, "Yeah, why?"
I don't know how to word what I'm going to say next. It seems as though this boy has completely split ties with them, though. How do I say we're basically going to war with them?
"The leader there has some major issues," I agree, "He kidnapped me and my friends, along with bombarding the place we were staying at and shooting at us."
"Yeah, makes sense," He struggles to stand and the knife falls away at my throat. The boy starts to fall, and for a split second I was conflicted. Should I help him?
The answer turns out to be a yes, because not a moment later, I adjust myself and catch him, him leaning heavily on my shoulder. He's bleeding out, and probably going to die. His hood falls back and his long-ish brown hair is revealed. It falls over his forehead, but not quite over his eyes. His eyes are barely open, and he tries to object me holding him up.
"Let me go," he draws out the words slowly. He tries to stand up on his out, but he sways and nearly falls over again.
"You need to get fixed up," I say, and take one of his arms, and put it around my shoulder. "Michonne, you're taller than me, please help."
I look at Michonne, and she seems to know what I'm going to do next. I can see the disapproving look in her eyes, but she listens. We help the nameless boy into the car, and give up on this run for now.
