𝓬𝓾𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓭 | 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓵 𝓭𝓲𝔁𝓸𝓷

ten

The sound of people wakes Macon up from her daze. She remembered someone picking her up and bringing her into a cell, but the rest of her memory is muddy. Groaning softly, she goes to rub her eyes only for something holding her hand back. Blinking rapidly, she uses her other hand to rub her eyes. When her vision finally clears, she sees her hand has been cuffed to a bed. And when she goes to click her tongue, she finds her mouth feeling like sandpaper, her throat aching when she goes to swallow. It makes her gag slightly, letting her eyes shut for a moment. She opens them once more when she feels a presence beside her. When she looks over, Macon sees Carol sitting on the floor in front of her, unscrewing the top of a water bottle. The older woman places it near her lips, a soft smile on her lips.

"A thanks for saving me," Carol states, her voice soft and quiet. Macon eyes the bottle for a moment but gives in when she tries to swallow once more. Leaning forward as much as she can, Carol tips the bottle to her lips. Macon almost moans when she feels the water past her lips. She swallows it greedily, wanting more but Carol pulls the bottle away after a moment, Macon giving a silent whine. "Drink slower. You'll get sick if you don't," she says. Macon goes to respond, only for someone to stand at the door of the cell. Both women look over, seeing the man in charge standing there. He eyes Macon for a few seconds before looking over at Carol.

"I need to talk to her for a minute." Carol nods silently, taking a moment to get up before leaving the cell, leaving Macon and Beardo alone. Macon gives the man a quick look up and down, seeing how bloodshot his eyes are and how disheveled he looks. He always looks disheveled due to the apocalypse but still, he seems worse. And when she hears the whine of a baby echo from the hall, her face falls. Her eyes fall with her face, giving him a quick up and down, seeing keys hanging from his belt.

"Shit man. I'm sorry." His face falls for a moment before going back to his regular stone-cold expression.

"What's your name?" he questions her, kneeling down beside her.

"Macon. Macon Hawthorne," she says. After a couple of seconds pass, he says, "Rick Grimes."

"You going to let me go then, Rick? I'm not bitten." She pulls at the handcuff, it clattering against the end of the bed.

"Not quite. I need to know what you're in here for first." His words make her freeze for a moment before a scoff passes her lips.

"Why? You've already killed people. I saw," she points out. His expression doesn't falter, however, making Macon rolls her eyes, throwing her free arm up in the air before it lands back at her side. Slowly but surely, she moves her hand towards his body, towards his keys. "I stole a couple of things," she says, her fingers inching closer to his belt. "To be specific, I was a good pickpocket. Helped a few people get into places they shouldn't." His brow raises.

"What does that mean?"

"Means I did stuff like this." She brings her hand up,  shaking the keys in her hand. Rick instantly looks down, seeing as she has taken his ring of keys. Looking back at her, he sees the prisoner give a quick shrug like she didn't just nonchalantly steal his keys. He yanks them out of her hand, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Then where did you learn how to load a gun?"

"Was in the Marines for a few years. I got medically discharged and became homeless for a while, which led to me becoming very good with my hands," she smiles softly, remembering the few years she was on the street. They were terrible, but it helped her not take anything for granted. "Met Tomas and got into some trouble with him. I got him locked up before I got caught. And here we are," she shrugs the best she can.

"Why were you discharged?"

"I got shot. The bullet broke into fragments in my body, to simply put it. Couldn't do what I used to." Rick eyes her for a moment, making Macon roll her eyes. "I'm not letting you see the scars, man. Either way I'm getting myself out whether you like it or not," she states. Rick sucks on his teeth before moving to unlock her.

"Do anything stupid and I'll kill you," he promises. Taking the cuff off her wrist, Macon sits up fully, rubbing it mindlessly.

"I just pickpocket and yet you're scared of what I'll do. Nice morals," she scoffs, slowly getting up off the bed. "Thanks though, Rick," she says, moving past him out to the hall. Looking around, Macon's eyes spot someone in the dayroom and she swore she knew them. Slowly moving closer to the door, she makes eye contact with said person, and her eyes widen. "Oh, you fucking son of a bitch."