Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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The crisp morning air chilled me to the bone as Daryl and I flew down the road. Andrea had stopped by three days ago to set up a meeting between the Governor and us—her way of preventing further violence. Rick and Hershel followed closely in the green Hyundai. I peered over Daryl's shoulder and saw the large shed Andrea had marked for us. There were six huge silos next to the shed, one bearing a large yellow 'x.' Daryl started to slow the bike; its engine cut off as he parked and kicked down the stand. I stood up, my hand flying to my gun clipped in its holster. Rick opened the passenger door and climbed out, motioning for Hershel to stay put and keep an eye out. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, letting two strands fall in front of my face as we started to jog forward, weapons in hand.

Daryl led us around the silos and towards the back of the shed; his crossbow pointed as his eyes darted around the overgrown vegetation. Rick and I had discussed the two of us meeting this Governor, but I was curious if the Governor would feel comfortable with me there. He might feel as if we were ganging up on him.

Daryl stopped, his head down as he examined a freshly killed walker. Blood still oozed from the wound in its head, and flies buzzed around it. I looked at Daryl and gave him a curt nod, signaling that this was as far as he would go. I lowered my gun and looked at Rick, my eyes meeting his as we both set our mouths in tight lines. I understand the reasoning behind Andrea setting this up, but something tells me nothing will come from it.

I moved forward, pushing past Rick with my eyes on the large building ahead of us. The door was already open; a small light could be seen from here. With a hand on the small of my back, Rick pushed me in slowly, both of us on edge. We can be walking into an ambush. I clicked my gun, the bullet moving into the chamber, ready to fire if needed. A wooden table was set up with only two chairs, one at each end of the table. Andrea failed to tell him we were in charge of the prison – not just Rick. I slowly walked forward, my boots hitting the squeaky floorboards noisily, letting whoever was here know they weren't alone. A metal clanging from the darkness ahead of us caught our attention. My heart raced in my chest as the man's face came into view. He had a clean haircut, was clean-shaven, and wore an eyepatch. Michonne had told me she stabbed his eye with a shard of glass. Seeing him made it hard for me not to smirk at his appearance.

A big man like this probably doesn't take kindly to losing, especially to a woman. He examined us as he stepped further into the light, his face clean of emotion. A slight smirk spread across his lips as he held up his hands, showing us that he came with no weapons. I stood my ground and continued to stare at him, my face bearing an unamused expression as his smirk faltered.

"She didn't say there would be two of you," He began, his deep voice ringing in my ears as it pierced the silence, "We have a lot to talk about."

"You attacked us," Rick said, getting right down to business, "Makes things pretty clear." The Governor dropped his hands and looped his fingers around his belt holes, remaining rooted in place.

"I was trying to make things clear," He retorted with a slight smile, "I could've killed you all. I didn't." Are we supposed to thank him for 'sparing' us? Is that what he wants? What a joke.

"And here we are," Rick concluded, his eyes set firmly and filled with anger as he stared the man down. The Governor made the smallest of movements to his holster, prompting Rick and me to point our guns at him. The Governor lifted his hands back to the side, not attempting to reach for his weapon again.

"I'm going to remove my weapon. Show that I mean to negotiate in good faith. I'd like for both of you to do the same," he explained as he moved towards his gun again, "May I?" He asked as he started to unclip his holster. He held up his discarded holster and weapon and hung it on a nail sticking out of a wooden beam. "See? No trouble." I point my gun at the man, unsure if we should follow through with this. We have Daryl and Hershel outside, but he could easily have more than ten men out there. "Now you."