We were almost there. I couldn't believe it. We were almost past all the biters. Almost. I had taken a moment to toss the short sword to Blade, who was no running full speed, cutting down biters as he went. Riley was plowing into others, his studded vest now bloodier than ever. Alana sobbed into my chest, fear overtaking the young child as I fought for control of the bike. It was then that I realized I missed an important piece of information. The breaks had snapped.
We were going too fast. We were getting too close. My heart began to race as I struggled to slow the bike down, using biters as speed bumps. It was no use. We were surely going to crash.
"Alana, listen to me, I need you to hold on real tight, okay?" I said to the little girl in my arms. I felt her nod against my chest. I took a deep breath. We were only about a hundred feet from the fence. I could see the men on the other side, their weapons raised.
"Riles, Blade, fan out," I commanded the dogs. Scout was nowhere in sight and I didn't have time to find him. Once the two were fanned out, barking their heads off to distract the biters, I did the only thing I could think to do. I veered right, throwing all my weight to one side. As the bike teetered, I rolled away from it, hitting the ground painfully, Alana gripped to my chest. As soon as we were on the ground I cut the leash and told the little girl to run. She did so while I loaded my bow, firing arrows through the skulls of the biters that got too close to her.
I stood up, overly aware of the pain sheering through my side. I groaned and chased after the little girl, the dogs now flaking us, providing as much protection as possible.
"Stop!" a gruff looking man barked as I reached the fence, Alana once more in my arms. I didn't need to be told twice. I stopped, my heart racing too fast, the pain in my side growing with every breath.
"Please," I gasped, narrowly pulling the little girl away from a biter. I slammed my knife into its skull, the blood spilling out onto my arm. "Please."
"I know her," another man said. My head snapped up at the snide, thick southern accent. Our eyes locked. There, on the other side of the fence, stood the man with the crossbow.
"Please," I whispered, barely able to stay standing. Blade jumped up on a biter, knocking it into me, causing me, along with it and Alana to slam into the ground. I rolled away from its snapping jaws, barely getting Alana out of the way in time. An arrow crushed through its skull, putting the biter down, once and for all. I heard the sound of the fence moving and didn't hesitate to push Alana towards the opening. I whistled loudly, calling both dogs in. I scanned the area, trying to locate Scout, who had been carrying my bag of medical supplies. It was then I realized the little dog hadn't made it. I could see a small herd of biters eating something. Then I knew.
I turned away from the scene and ran through the gate as a young boy, no more than 13, slammed it shut behind me.
As soon as we were inside, I had a gun aimed at my head.
"Start talking," the angry, scruffy man barked. I took several deep breaths, the pain in my side almost unbearable. I bent over, my hands resting on my knees as I spit into the dirt at my feet. I was shaking all over. Riley let out a low growl, instantly standing in front of me, providing what little protection he could.
"Back off Rick," a new voice growled. I spared a glance up at the man with the crossbow, who was looking at me with a look of concern mixed with suspicion.
"Had to get away," I muttered, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady. I tried to stand upright, but the movement sent a pain so sharp up my side, I ended up keeled over again, gasping for air.
"She's hurt," an older, wiser voice said. I turned my head to see an elderly man on crutches start towards me. His eyes were full of concern.
"Mommy," Alana whispered at my side. I felt all the strength leave my body as I fell to my knees, pulling my little girl towards me. She buried her face into my hair, her little hands tightly gripping at my shirt.
"Shush now, Lana, it's okay," I whispered, holding her close. Riley seemed to relax next to me as the older man came near.
"We should get her inside so I can tend to that wound," he said softly.
"Absolutely not," the other man, Rick, growled.
"Rick," the crossbow man warned.
"Daryl, no. We're not taking anyone else in," Rick barked.
"Ta hell with that," the other man, Daryl I assumed, growled. I felt someone grab my arm. Out of habit, I lashed out, knocking the hand away. Daryl gave me a warning look before offering his hand again. This time I took it, leaning heavily against him while my free hand gripped onto Alana's.
It took Hershel a few minutes to patch the wound, a deep, long cut in my side from my ribcage down to my pelvis. I explained what happened with the bike and he nodded knowingly. I had gotten snagged on one of my own blades, how graceful was that?
While he worked on my wounds, I tried my best to explain what happened to Rick and Daryl.
"There's a town, not too far from here. Ran by a man who calls himself the Governor," I said slowly, my eyes locked on Alana, who was sitting across the room, Riley curled at her side. Blade was standing guard, pacing the space between us and the two strange men.
"He's a monster of a man," I went on. "What he…what they do to people, it's just not right." I spared them the details, briefly explaining what I'd went through over the winter. "My dog, the bigger one, managed to find the prison, we had no idea how many of you were here," I finished. I took a deep breath, the pain in my side significantly less than it had been moments before.
"You can't stay, I'm sorry," Rick growled. "We'll give you some supplies and send you on your way, first thing tomorrow."
"Please," I begged, my heart dropping. "For the sake of my little girl, let us stay. I'll pull our weight. I can hunt, run for supplies, anything."
"Rick, I've seen her hunt, she's got skills we can use," Daryl said lightly. I looked between the two, surprised the redneck had defended me. "Besides, we can always use another lookout."
"No," he growled, his mind made up.
The sound of a baby crying silenced the conversation. I looked towards the sound, instinct taking over.
"You've got a baby?" I asked, surprised.
"That's none of your business!" Rick snapped.
"I can run for formula. Diapers. You're going to need them," I tried carefully. "There's a daycare a few miles out. I can get there and back easily enough."
"Not with that hole in your side you won't," Hershel quickly argued. "You need to rest. Getting that infected won't do you any good."
"Ain't scared of an infection," I shrugged. "Seen 'lot worse these days."
"She's got spirit, that's for sure," I heard a new voice chime in. I looked up to see an Asian man walking towards us, his gun level with my chest.
"Lower than thing 'fore you set it off without meanin' to," I spat. I was about fed up with people pointing guns at me.
"Lower the gun, Glenn," Daryl ordered. I couldn't tell who was supposed to be the leader. Rick or Daryl. It seemed Rick had other concerns and Daryl was trying to fill his place.
"Glenn, huh?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. For some reason, the name stood out.
"Yeah," he nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips. "You are…?"
"Harleigh. Harleigh Johnson, pleasure to meet ya," I nodded, forcing a smile. "This here's Alana."
"She's yours?" Rick asked, clearly taking in the fact that we looked nothing alike.
"Yes and no," I said carefully, watching the little girl cuddle with the dogs. "Her mother was killed by biters the day I ended up with the Woodbury group," I explained. "Couldn't let a little girl like that go on by herself. She thinks of me as a mother now and that's exactly how it ought to stay."
Rick nodded to himself before glancing at the cellblock doorway behind us.
"I guess…I guess you can stay, for now. But one wrong move and I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull," he scoffed.
"Fair enough," I nodded. "One of your men even looks at me the wrong way and I'll be doing the same to them, understood?" Memories of Woodbury flooded my mind. Daryl seemed to sense the change in atmosphere and came over so he was all I could see.
"Ain't no one here gon' hurt you or your little girl," he said gently. It seemed out of character for a man of his standing, a hunter, someone cut out for this world, to be comforting a stranger. But he did so none-the-less. And for that, I was grateful.
After the men set me up with a cell, I took a moment to look over what little I had managed to save from Woodbury. I had my double bladed short sword, that was more or less Blade's weapon, along with my small handgun, my long, sharp sword and my bow and arrows. All of which I had agreed to hand over, under the agreement that I was to be allowed to carry my small hunting knife. Aside from that, I had meager rationed, which I handed over without a care, along with the ammo and small first aid kit that had been shoved in the bag Blade had been carrying. The bag I had clipped to Riley contained clothing and my few personal items, including a locket from my mother all those years ago.
I smiled as I sat on the lower bunk next to Alana, who looked sleepy and worn out.
"Hey little one, how 'ya feeling?" I asked her.
"Sleepy," she murmured, a yawn forming.
"I bet," I smiled down at her. "Why not try and get some shuteye?" I asked.
"Sing to me, mommy?" she asked as she cuddled up next to me.
"Sure," I smiled as I softly sang her a little lullaby. She smiled as she fell asleep in my arms. I carefully pulled back the thin sheet and laid her back down, her hair flaring out around her face. I smiled and kissed her forehead before leaving the cell, telling Blade to keep watch. The young dog curled up beside Alana on the bed, his head resting on his paws.
I walked out into the common room, Riley at my side, a slight limp to his gait. I knelt beside him, wincing as pain shot up my side. I bit back a groan as I lifted his back leg off the ground. He whined and glared at me, but made no move to bite the hand that fed him. I inspected the leg, not at all surprised by the small cuts that littered the leg. I'd been aware of those already. What concerned me was the swelling around his foot.
"Lay down," I told him softly. He did as I said. I lifted the foot again, gently putting pressure on the swelling. A sharp cry of pain ripped from Riley's chest. I murmured to him softly as I tore a piece of my shirt and wrapped it tightly around his foot. He whined but settled as soon as pressure was on the wound.
"Seems you managed to get yourself in a tangle, ol' boy," I said gently, my hands stroking his long fur. "Gonna have to be more careful from now on."
The dog looked at me with knowing eyes before returning to our cell. A moment later, I heard a sharp yip and Blade came running out of the room, his eyes alert. I smirked. Leave it to Riley to find a way to bully the bigger, stronger dog.
"C'mon, Blade, let's get some practice in, okay?" I called to the dog. He trotted over to me and followed me as I weaved my way past the group. They gave me a funny look but I ignored it. I was on a mission.
Once out in the prison yard, I looked for something that could serve as a target. I found a piece of rope and decided it would make due. I tied it to one of the posts, before nodding at Blade.
"Blade, fan out," I commanded. He let out a low bark before fanning out to my right, then my left in a swift, simply manner. I nodded and charged forward, waiting for the dog to follow. He did so instantly, his pattern never changing, with every ten feet, he'd zig-zag to the other side, fanning in and out like a pro.
"Good," I nodded as I stopped to catch my breath. I tapped the rope with my knife. "Go for the kill!"
Upon the last word of the command, Blade charged forward, using all his muscles to propel himself into the air, grabbing hold of the rope and shaking it wildly, despite hanging close to 5 feet off the ground. He growled and growled, tugging the rope with all his strength.
"Release!" he dropped back to the ground, his fangs bared, his fur standing on end.
"Good boy!" I cooed as I rubbed his head. He relaxed under my touch, his tail wagging.
"You trained them to kill?" a rough, southern drawl rang out. I looked up to find Daryl walking over to us. Blade stiffened, a growl ripping from his chest.
"Don't come too close, he's still a bit wired," I warned. Blade snapped at the stranger. I tugged at his collar until he finally refocused on me. I gave him a firm nod before uttering a simple phrase that he loved over any other.
"Go hunt." Without hesitation, the dog took off. I knew it there was a way out of the yard, he'd find it. If there wasn't, he'd spend the next few minutes racing from one end of the yard to the next until he found something to return with.
"That a smart idea?" Daryl asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"He won't hurt anyone if he's in hunt mode," I shrugged. "He knows better. Hunt and kill are two different commands."
"You put too much faith in those mutts," he muttered darkly.
"Those mutts, as you so rudely put it, are the reason I'm still alive," I growled. I whistled and waited for Blade to return to my side. He did so within a minute flat, his claws ripping into the grass as he skidded to a halt.
"Go rest," I told the dog. He looked up at me with deep, chocolate eyes. "Bed, now," I ordered. He bowed his head, his tail tucking as he ran towards the prison, no doubt following the scent up to the cell block.
"What happened, that day in the woods?" Daryl asked as I started to walk the fence, my eyes staring off in the distance.
"Found those guys from Woodbury trying to save Alana and her mother," I muttered. "Riley was still wired and willing to fight, so we helped. Couldn't save her mother in time, but lord help me, I wasn't about to let that lil' girl die."
"You seem attached to her," he observed.
"She's like a daughter to me," I said. Without realizing it, my voice cracked.
"Did you…ya know, have kids 'fore all this started?" he asked me. I stopped and turned to him. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and stop with the questions, but something in his eyes stopped me. Something familiar, yet foreign all the same.
"Had a little boy. Michael. He was only 7 when…well when this shit happened," I waved my hand around to express what I meant. "He was…he was with my ex and…" I felt my emotions getting the best of me. I took a deep breath. No. You don't get to feel sorry for yourself. "It doesn't matter. He's gone as is everyone else I cared about. Riley and Blade, they're all I've got left next to Alana. And let me tell ya, there ain't a thing in the world I wouldn't do for those three."
"You'd sacrifice yourself for a pair of mutts?" he asked, his tone bitter.
"I would," I growled. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable around this man. Something about him made me remember Merle. Maybe it was the eyes. The way they looked hard one moment, then the next, looked almost as if they honestly gave two shits about you. Or maybe it was just the similarities in their accents. They sounded so much alike, though Daryl, he was kinder. He didn't make me feel like I was an object.
Whatever it was, I didn't have any intentions of figuring this man out. Instead, I pulled away from the fence before walking back to the prison, ignoring Rick's calls. Instead, I went into the cell I shared with Alana and climbed onto the top bunk, the events of the last four months finally fully catching up with me. Exhaustion, both physical and mental, took hold and before I could even try and fight it, sleep found me. And for once, I didn't sleep with one eye open.
A/n - I loved writing this chapter. I loved every single part of it and I hoped you did as well! I'm still not entirely sure how I'm going to go about some of the original storyline just yet, so suggestions are always welcomed! So are reviews, favorites and follows! It makes me so happy to know people are reading and enjoying the story! Let me know what you think!
Oh, before I forget, no, Harleigh is not going to wind up a mary sue. ;) Though she's a skilled hunter and has her dogs trained to the max, it means little when you're about to have to face everything you tried to put behind you. ;) *spoiler alert?*