Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

|83|

I shuddered as Daryl's unconscious body leaned against me, the blood from his gunshot wound leaking onto me. I struggled against my binds and wiggled, trying to get him to sprawl against my lap so I could get a better look at his injury. Dwight watched us as I continued to squirm, grunts escaping my lips and the tight rope digging into my skin.

"Get them into the cars," Dwight ordered suddenly, making me jump. I struggled against the hands that gripped me, forcing me onto my feet and away from my stirring friend. Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn grunted as they were thrown into separate cars, their muffled screams hitting my ears. One of the men threw me into the car, a chuckle escaping their lips when they shoved Daryl in after me—his warm body on top of mine and suffocating me. He was heavy, and his wound leaked more blood, the warm, sticky substance dripping onto my chest. Daryl's light blue eyes fluttered open and closed as he fought to regain consciousness. Dwight circled towards my side of the car and opened the door, my knife in his hand. He pushed Daryl off me and grabbed me by my hair, forcing me into a sitting position.

"I figure that your people will come searching soon, and when they do, we'll be waiting for them. But for now," I let a small whimper escape my lips as he tugged at my hair, my knife sawing away at a good chunk. The blade pulled at each strand, sending pain upwards towards my scalp. "We'll mess with them," His hands reached over me, his head level with my chest as he grabbed Daryl, put him upright, and removed his vest. Daryl's eyes fluttered open, and he grunted, his legs kicking out to fight against Dwight.

"Daryl," I tried to say, but it came out muffled against my gag. I leaned my shoulder against him, almost begging him to stop fighting. There will be a time when we fight; now's not that time. Dwight laughed and pulled back, the car door slamming harshly beside me.

Daryl struggled against his binds as two men climbed into the car and started it. I looked at my friend and shook my head. He's wasting all his energy fighting—he needs to conserve his energy and wait for the right moment. If I play the slow, waiting game as I did back at the safe house, then I'm positive we could find a way out of this. It's not just Maggie, Carol, and me—this time, it's Daryl, Rosita Michonne, and Glenn with me. We have more of a fighting chance. Daryl slowly started to calm down next to me as the car kept moving, but his face was still pained. I looked at him and shifted my body to point at him, my eyes inspecting the bloody bullet wound.

It didn't look as horrible as it probably felt, but it was still worrying. He needs medical attention for that, or else he risks infection. I pushed at the gag with my tongue, desperate to at least free my mouth to talk to these guys, but failed. The knot on the back of my head was tight, holding it in place securely. Daryl shook his head at me and grunted, his eyes full of anger. I stopped fidgeting and looked at the road, realizing we were not too far from the Hilltop. Is that where they're taking us? No, they can't be! Gregory wouldn't dare mess with us, and Jesus would've given us a heads-up. Who could this be? Realization dawned on me as I put the pieces together in my head.

They have to be what's remaining of the Saviors! Wait, wasn't that man I killed Negan? I thought it was. If it was, then are they running around leaderless? Is Dwight their new leader? The car kept going, veering off into the woods and coming to a complete stop after a few miles. The men turned off the engine and exited the car, momentarily leaving Daryl and I alone.

I looked at my friend and pushed my head against the seat, lifting my body so I could try to maneuver my hands toward the front of my body. I grunted as I pushed my hands down, raising a single leg onto the seat. My wrists burned as the rope dug into my skin, and a whimper escaped me as I fell back against the seats. Daryl grunted and pointed his head towards the window, signaling me to turn. Slowly, I turned my head and felt my body shake as Dwight looked at me with curious eyes and a smile. He caught me. The door opened, and Dwight grabbed me by the back of my head, guiding me out of the vehicle. Daryl grunted and screamed against his restraints as Dwight closed the door behind me.