Cult » Daryl Dixon

twelve

twelve.

Aften's POV

I sat on the cold floor, propped up in the corner of a small room. I was half asleep, my eyelids drooping. I kept seeing a figure slumped against the wall across from me, but my vision was fuzzy. I faintly remembered Carl getting shot last night. I wondered if it was him.

"Carl," I whispered out to the figure. I tried to move, but I couldn't move far; my left hand was handcuffed to a pole. The figure moved around in response to my voice. "Carl," I whispered again.

"He ain't here," they answered, their voice like music to my ears.

"Merle," I drawled, smiling. "I thought you ran off." He snickered in response. "Is it just us?"

"'Fraid so," he sighed.

"So Daryl got out," I wondered, growing worried. "Where'd he go? Is he okay? Did you see him?"

"Christ, Red, yeah he got out. He's fuckin' fine," Merle spat at the ground. A low sting of rage sat in my stomach, hot pinpricks working their way up my body. Why didn't he try to help me, help the both of us get outta here? "Thought you didn't give two shits 'bout my baby brother."

"I don't," I lied through my teeth, my voice a low grumble. "Apparently it's a crime for me to ask."

"Mhm," Merle muttered suspiciously. He watched my fingers claw at the dried blood on my jeans. "He do all that," he asked, observing me in my disheveled condition. I knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Who else would it be," I was quick to snarl. "Those other bastards are too chicken; they just taunt and punch."

"I'mma kill 'im," Merle hissed. "When I get outta here, I'mma kill 'im, I swear it." His shackles clanked against the concrete, pulling him back as he attempted to fight against them. He yelled out in anger, staring at his handcuff and stomping his foot on the ground. A cut on his head was revealed to me once he reared it in my direction.

"I'mma shoot his other eye outta his fuckin' head and tear him apart limb from limb until he's beggin' for mercy. He ain't ever gonna make me beg."

"Then you'll leave," I retorted, becoming angry. "You'll leave me to fend for myself."

"Don't try to start shit with me, girl," Merle growled. "Soon enough, you'll be beggin' to be left alone. You'll be fine all by yourself, 'cause it's easy gettin' used to bein' lonely for people like us. I left ya with Daryl for a reason."

"Oh yeah? Fucker left me too and we ended up back in this shithole." Tears stung my eyes, my lip quivering. "I've been trapped my whole life with this fucking monster and now everybody's watching." I breathed in heavily, my chest shaking. "They're all gonna find out soon that he's my dad. They're never gonna let me back in there and Rick is gonna regret the day he didn't shoot me in the convenience store when I went back there. He's gonna finish me off right in front of Daryl. Everyone's gonna want me dead, 'cause I'm the product of a maniac; I'm the enemy now," I cried out in frustration, a tear tumbling down my cheek. "We just had to go in there."

"How the hell was I supposed to know they were there?" Merle began to raise his voice. "I followed a fuckin' trail. Get the hell up off your high horse, Princess."

"You knew they had a second level! You led us there," I hollered. "We could've moved on, but we didn't!"

"They wouldn't be after us if you minded your own fuckin' business," he hissed. "Your sister's blood is on your hands." I glared at him, my whole body tense. I struggled to find my voice again, what Merle said to me putting a dagger in my chest.

"You know," I whispered. "My ride over was fucking awesome. The guy who held a gun to my head the whole time definitely made sure to give me a perfect homecoming." I shivered at the thought, choking back more tears. "Everyone just wants a piece of their boss' helpless, piece of shit daughter, don't they?"

"No." Merle's face softened. "No, that ain't true," he mumbled. "Fuck," he cursed as I rested my head against the wall, trying to prevent a tear from tumbling down my cheek. "Shit, I—I didn't know they were that bad." He desperately tried to scoot closer to me, the chain of his handcuff loudly clanking against the floor. "I ain't them. I ain't them, Red. You can trust me." The door to the secluded room slowly creaked open, a few men stomping in. They unlocked Merle from his restraint and dragged him out. I watched him leave, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop them. I certainly wasn't strong enough to try anything in the first place. The door slammed shut, leaving me back in the darkness; the smallest square window on the door projected a minuscule beam of light. The light was momentarily blocked, the door clicking. My head perked up, my heart skipping a beat. I was fearful of who would enter.

Andrea stepped through the doorway, Martinez standing guard outside. She looked at me in worry as she rushed over, kneeling by my side. She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes scanning over my injuries.

"Oh my god," she muttered. "What did he do to you?" Andrea fished the handcuff key out of her pocket and shoved it into the lock. She jimmied it until it popped open. I instantly rubbed my wrist, small cuts from the metal stinging as I touched them. "Martinez," she called out. He turned around and hurried over to me. He scooped me up, holding me in his arms. "We're gonna get you outta here," Andrea promised, running her hand over mine. Martinez held me as if I were a small child, carefully following Andrea's every move. We took the back hallways, dodging everyone's view. Andrea came to a stop causing Martinez to jolt and stay put.

"Close your eyes," he mumbled down to me, keeping his head up. I obeyed him, shutting my eyes and slightly tilting my head down.

"Andrea, what's this?" I heard Milton's voice chirp.

"She's gotten very sick," Andrea lied. "We were instructed to move her for the safety of her health."

"By who?" Milton sounded suspicious of her reasoning.

"By the Governor," Martinez stated, his voice vibrating his chest and my head that rested against it. Milton didn't question him at all.

"I can help if you'd like," he offered. "I've got plenty of—"

"Thank you, Milton," Andrea smiled. "But we've got this taken care of." The two of them said their goodbyes and Andrea ushered us faster to our destination: my room. Martinez laid me down on my bed, draping a blanket over my body. He turned around to leave, Andrea placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll make the trade later," I heard her whisper. She approached me and ran her hand over my head. "Stay quiet, lay low. Martinez and I are going to distract him as much as we can, try and keep him away from the people."

"Thank you," I muttered. Andrea grabbed my hand and squeezed it, staying by my side until I fell into a deep sleep.