A kiss from the wind -The Walking dead. Daryl Dixon/OC
Chapter 2- Groups merging
Summary: The gnarled hand scrabbled uselessly against the ground, rotting body trapped under the mangled car wreck, reaching, moaning and snarling. Charlotte grimaced, moving further out of reach and crouched to the ground. "Come on kid." Daryl's voice sounded behind her, a hand landing on her shoulder, "Leave it. We got ground to cover." Daryl/OC
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Yo! There's been a little confusion about the opening chapter… Charlotte is part of Randall's group. Randall being the boy Shane killed. Dave and Tony are the names of the two men Rick killed in the bar. I gave Randall's companions the names Graham and Oliver because I'm not sure if they had canon names!
This takes place after the walker herd attacked Hershel's farm and Shane and Dales deaths. Hence Hershel and Maggie's new losses, Jimmy and Patricia and of course Dale and Shane. We can also assume that it is this time from the fact that Randall hadn't returned and Rick's group were once again on the highway.
Anyway- I'll try and clear some stuff up in this chapter =]
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Oh! Also, due to not knowing the novels or what's coming next I'm ignoring the whole Andrea getting split from the rest and being saved by the girls whose name I cant remember or pronounce!
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Rick eyed the newcomers wearily, they looked to be the sort of people who would shoot first and ask questions later, weapons ready to be aimed and fired at any moment and he felt his body tense again. The initial relief of seeing more survivors overshadowed by weariness, after Shane's betrayal he knew he could not trust anyone.
"There's so few of you." The one who referred to himself as Andrew said, surveying the group of ten straggly survivors.
"There were more of us. We were over run at our last camp." Rick refrained from mentioning the word farm.
"Where you headin' now?" Andrew asked, eyeing the gasless vehicles the group had vacated.
"We don't know." Rick replied, eyes landing on Daryl and Glenn both of whom stood alert, weapons ready to be raised at a moments notice, Rick felt better that they had his back.
Shane had always been that person, but Shane was gone, in mind before in body and soul. Glenn and especially Daryl were good substitutes.
"What's your name then?"
"Rick Grimes. We were thinking' of headin' South, maybe find a new place to camp out, see if we can grab some supplies."
"South's over run. Your best bet is North." one of the smaller men said, from Andrews left.
"North then." Lori stated from the side, weary also.
"What about tonight?" Andrew asked, eyes flicking towards the various weapons in the groups hands. Andrea's pistol, Rick's trusty gun. Hershel's gun, that had once belonged to Shane. Daryl's crossbow.
"We're still workin' that out." Rick replied.
"You're an officer?"
"Yeah."
"Were camped not far from here." Andrew said, "There's quite a few of us. Plenty of room. Guarded well enough. We were just headin' back from a supply run. We got plenty."
"I don't-"
"Come on. We gotta stick together in these times. There's not enough of us 'round not to." Andrew said with a charming smile.
"Rick-" Lori started.
"We'll leave you to decide alone." Andrew stepped back.
"Andrew." One of the smaller men hissed as they moved from the group. "What're you doin'? Lawrence won't be happy if we drag stragglers with us."
"Look at them, Simon." Andrew smiled, "Weapons, lots of 'em by the looks of it. Juicy broads too."
"But-"
"You know what Lawrence said, we gotta utilise what we can. They could be useful and if Lawrence decides they ain't then we stick 'em in the woods and take their things instead." Andrew smirked eyes roaming towards the debating group, "Besides, I like the blonde. She looks feisty."
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Charlotte scrubbed the grimy shirt in her hands against the washing board, wishing furiously for a washing machine. She always felt dirtier after washing the laundry, despite the water and soap used. She wasn't sure to whom this belonged too, though it was rather large so most likely one of the burlier men. She'd hang it up and they could grab their own clothing.
"Jamie!" she called, as she watched the boy trot towards the trees, earning a glare from their armed guard, "Get over here."
She didn't want Jamie anywhere near the trees, nor did she want him anywhere near their guard, placed not only to watch for walkers but to watch them too, should they decide to run.
Charotte's hand moved to the axe beside her, a large wood cutting variety, pushed into her hand by her father the day they had made a break from it from their first dwelling when the dead first started walking. Her father had made up his mind to kill them, hack them apart, before it had even become common knowledge to do so.
Sometimes, Charlotte thought about it, grabbing Jamie, telling Betty to raise her own weapon and making a run for it.
They wouldn't make it far, even if they got away unscathed and managed to find a place to hunker down neither of them, women or children could hunt food, Charlotte could probably go on supply runs but Betty, fit as she was for her age was hardly considerable protection for the children if the dead should appear in a large group.
As much as she hated this group, despised half of the men with their roaming eyes and hands and as much as she feared and despised her violent father she knew they were as safe as they could be here. If they did as they were told, avoided fights and did their share of the work they would be okay.
Despite the groups considerable flaws they were useful, they hunted game, brought back food.
"Jamie!" she cried, dropping the board, shirt and scentless soap onto the river bank beside Emma who sat dutifully handing Betty another piece of clothing once she finished up the one before. She jogged towards her wayward brother and grabbed him by the back of his wrinkled shirt.
"What have I told you Jamie?" She hissed, "Get back over there!"
"But-"
"Now Jamie." She growled, eyes pleading with the boy. He was only eight and though he knew things were bad he had thankfully been mostly protected from the atrocities of this new world so far and didn't understand why he couldn't run off into the woods on a whim, nor did he understand why menacing men constantly stood guard when they went away from the group. He especially didn't understand that said men would happily turn their gun on them without a moments thought, Lawrence's children or not.
The boy trudged sullenly towards the river bed where Charlotte noticed Betty begin to berate him. She moved to return also but found a calloused hand wrapped hard around her wrist. She stopped dead and turned towards the guard, Davey or David or something of the like if she remembered correctly.
"You wanna keep the kid under control." He whispered pulling Charlotte closer than necessary and breathing deeply, breath ghosting across her neck, she cringed and pulled away roughly.
"You wanna stop touching me?" she spat, yanking her wrist, unable to escape the grasp though.
"You gonna tell daddy?" He smirked, thumb rubbing across her wrist what should have been sensually.
"Yes." She hissed. "You know what he said."
The hand released her slowly, Dave or David glaring with enough force to kill.
"Sorry Charlotte." Jamie said, as she flopped onto the river bank beside him, hands shaking, "I didn't mean to get you told off."
"It's okay kiddo." she shot him a smile, wishing in this moment that her mother were here, her mother had been a kind woman but firm, she had always known how to punish her kids without hurting them. Charlotte had been raised well, save for her father. Jamie however had been only three when she had passed away and had only Charlotte to look to for female authority and overall protection from the bad people of the world.
"Just don't do it again." She warned, "You know its not safe to be running off."
"I just wanted to look for the mean people." He said sadly, meaning the dead, "I'm a man and I want to protect the girls."
"You're not a man yet Jamie, you're still a boy. You'll get your day to be protector." She sighed sadly, he would definitely get his time in this world. "But until then Jamie, you don't run off, they will kill you. Do you understand me?"
"Get back to cleaning!" The guard called threateningly.
Charlotte ignored him, "Do you understand me?" she repeated.
"Yes."
"Good. Now hand me the soap and board and get to work." she said, noticing her brother looked suitably scalded.
They worked diligently, as was always the case. Betty was a born worker, Charlotte thought she probably had been her whole life, she pushed the to work and they got things done much quicker than they would have were Betty not there to motivate them. "You're twenty five Charlotte." Betty would say, "When I was twenty five I ran my own house and worked two jobs."
Charlotte found that it was rather redundant to mention the fact that the dead were walking the streets and that put a bit of a dampener on the whole, house family and normal life idea, Betty would just ignore her anyway.
No matter how fast they worked however, with so many members of the group and their own clothes to wash the sky was darkening as they finished. The guard had been changed twice by then and Charlotte was glad that they had a less vocal and down right creepy guard to escort them through the woods and back to camp.
She dropped the last wrung out shirt into one of the baskets and handed her board and bagged soap to Jamie who was already carrying the rest. She hoisted the third basket and followed behind Betty.
"You okay Emma?" Charlotte asked the thirteen year old, who was tucking her shoulder length brown hair into a headband.
"Yeah." She smiled.
"Basket too heavy?"
"No."
"Well you can take mine too then!" She joked, dropping her load on top of the girls, "Too heavy for me."
"No!" The girl giggled, " I can't lift that!"
Charlotte rolled her eyes smiling, "Oh, fine!" she lugged her own lot again as the latest armed watcher called, "Hurry up! Sun's getting' lower."
They followed behind dutifully as the boy, he couldn't have been much older than nineteen led with the barrel of his gun. Charlotte and the others were not graced with guns, her axe came in handy sure, but required close range. She had only killed (re-killed?) four or five of them, and had felt physically sick after the first time. The person she had killed, and that's what they had been at one point, wore a ripped suit, could have been a lawyer or a professor or a teacher. He could have had a family, friends. She learned however further on that they dead would not stop to wonder about their victims lives and the survivors could not do the same. It had gotten easier from then, though she still found herself wondering sometimes, what that person would be doing now, if the world had stayed the same, who they would be with. She didn't think that anybody with a heart could just kill someone and not at least wonder.
They moved through the trees into the clearing quickly, Charlotte bringing up the rear, axe held awkwardly and dangerously under her armpit.
"What the heck is happenin' up there?" The guard asked, immediately abandoning the four as they were safely in the camp.
"What is happening?" Betty asked, dropping her own basket onto the ground and following after him.
"Stick close to me." Charlotte implored the kids, following in Betty's steps, laundry forgotten at the clearing end. From what she could tell most of the camp were gathered at the top of the clearing, away from sleeping quarters, circled around something. She gently pushed her way through the crowd hearing her fathers commanding voice up ahead.
"Sorry," she grumbled, moving her axe out of the way of other peoples flesh and limbs, she pushed through the crowd until she made it to the edge of the circle eyes landing on a large group of people she had never seen in her life, dirty, exhausted looking people who looked on edge at the sheer number of people. She also noticed a number of unfamiliar tents and belongings set up in an isolated corner off to the side. These people, a blonde, gripping tightly to her gun, a thin woman with short greying hair and sad eyes, a man, the leader it seemed, in a Sherriff's deputy uniform, an Asian man, possibly Chinese or Korean holding tightly to a young girl with short brown hair, a tall angry looking man with an impressive sized crossbow an older man and teenaged blond girl and on the end a thin brunette holding to what must have been her son maybe the same age as Emma looked terrified and tired.
Charlotte frowned as her ears focused on what her father was saying.
"Why of course you can stay here as long as you need" Lawrence Pearce smiled, and it seemed only Charlotte recognised said smile for how menacing it really was, "We've got lotsa room and provisions."
"We wont be stayin' long." The man in uniform smiled gratefully though his shoulders were tense. "We just need to rest and recoup. Get a plan of some kind."
"Of course."
"Thank you so much for your kindness, we can assign some of our people for watch duty."
"Now don't be silly Rick. We got plenty'a people and a rota to match. You all look exhausted. Set up camp and get some sleep. We can sort all that stuff in the morning'" Lawrence said charmingly.
"Thank you." The man in uniform, Rick, said gratefully.
Charlotte sighed as people began to disperse making room fro the other group to move, and grabbed hold of Jamie's hand. She knew exactly what would happen next.
The scuffle happened before she'd even opened her eyes and it seemed only seconds before the considerably smaller group were overwhelmed, weaponless and restrained.
Fooled by her fathers fake charm and hospitality.
"What the hell are you doin'?" The man who had previously held the crossbow spat towards Andrew who now held the weapon, "Give that damn thing back!"
"Let go of me!" the curvy blonde cried angrily, jerking away from one of the men who Charlotte didn't know the name of as he held tightly and inappropriately to her waist.
"Shut up." Lawrence said, "Y'see, I haven't decided what to do with you yet. Don't know why Andrew didn't take your weapons and be done with ya."
"The old guys a doctor Lawrence." Andrew stated.
"I'm a vet." said old man said, sounding resigned.
"Figure the cops got brains and an aim. There's always bait if they're completely useless."
At the mention of bait the group begin to struggle again, uselessly, and Charlotte finds her eyes drawn to the boy. He looks terrified. She immediately fears for him, other than herself and the children her father finds no use for women or kids, the group however see women as play things and their stories of the helpless girls and women they find on raids make Charlotte sick to the stomach. Rape and torture and who knows what else. They only kept Betty alive because she was an incredible culinary talent, able to make even the worst of foods, tinned usually and meat, rabbit, squirrel or whatever else the hunting groups could find taste good. Something that no doubt kept her alive.
"Keep them in the tents we'll decide in the morning." Lawrence said, tone meaning end of discussion.
" You can't do this!" Rick cried causing a number of people to raise their weapons.
"Rick stop!" The brunette woman cried, grabbing onto her son as she was released, "Stop!"
Rick immediately stopped struggling and was in turn released from the human restraints.
"Charlotte." her father called, "Come here."
She moved forward, into the fray. "Take the weapons." Her father instructed. "Put them in the trunk." A key was pressed into her hand, followed by a number of guns to her arms. She nodded, avoiding eye contact with the newcomers. "Come back for the crossbow and bat."
The trip to the trunk took less than a minute and Charlotte kept one ear to the commotion, she noticed to her right one of the men on guard, Cody was watching her, as she unlocked the trunk of the blue four by four and placed the guns one by one inside, putting the safety on each one as she did.
She moved quickly back to the group and handed the bat to Emma who dutifully jogged to the vehicle. "Gimme that back!" The previous owner growled, still restrained, Charlotte looked at him as he flicked dirty blonde hair from his eyes, he reminded her of the men who followed her father, an angry red neck. Andrew handed the cross bow to her instead and she flinched as the man turned his anger towards her tugging even harder against the hands holding him back. Charlotte moved quickly towards the truck and placed he crossbow on top of the pile. Swiftly locking the trunk she moved again, reluctant to incur the wrath of an angry redneck.
"Keys." Andrew said abruptly, when she returned snatching the keys from her out stretched hand.
"Any of you try anything in the night we kill you. Understood?" Lawrence threatened, aiming his own gun at the still snarling redneck.
"Daryl cut it out!" Rick shouted, and the man stopped almost as if he'd been shocked.
"You all heard me. One misstep and you're dead." Lawrence reiterated.
Charlotte felt her heart sink at the new groups plight. She didn't know what her father was planning. She felt a number of glares from the newcomers as they were led at gunpoint towards their sleeping area.
She only hoped that if they cared to look they could see how sorry she was through her eyes.
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Right, got that out the way! Should get some Charlotte/Daryl interaction soon! Please review poppet's, so very nervous and unsure of this one as the Walking dead is so sacred to me!
Thanks!