Surviving The New World (Book Six in the Surviving The Walking Dead Series)

Re-Enlisting

Thunder rolled overhead as I slowly entered the gates of Alexandria; Michonne decided to stay at Hilltop for the night, but I just couldn't do it. I needed to be home with Harper. The ride home was quiet, but the silence is what bothered me the most. Where were the Whisperers? I clicked my tongue for a moment before letting out a sigh. I missed Makeda, she always made the ride home entertaining.

"What's wrong?" Dante asked as he closed the gate behind me. "Where's the pretty kitty at?"

"Makeda died," I mumbled as I made Lafayette stop.

"I'm sorry, Michaela."

"Jesus too."

"Christ," Dante sighed. "What happened?"

"Did Gabriel not tell y'all?"

"He looked upset, but he didn't say anything."

"Michonne must've told 'em to wait until she got back."

"What happened?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Are you hurt?" Dante motioned to the dried blood on me. "You should let me take a look at you."

"It's not mine." I carefully climbed down from Lafayette and handed Dante the reins. "Can you please put Lafayette in his stable? I really need to be with my daughter right now."

"Sure thing." Dante clicked his tongue and pulled Lafayette alongside him. Thunder rumbled overhead again as a lightning flash filled the sky. I slowly made my way down the street, stopping outside the jailhouse. How was I gonna tell her? Not only was her cat dead, but her uncle too? This was gonna crush her...wouldn't it? I never stopped to think of a child her age fully understood death, a child who had been sheltered all her life from the outside world.

As I entered the jailhouse, I was met with silence. Most of the lights were off, indicating that Negan had already put Harper to bed. "You're late," Negan mumbled from the kitchen, causing me to slightly jump. "What kept you?"

"We had some issues," I answered. I watched as Negan slowly sat up and made his way over to me, stopping at the sight of the blood.

"Christ, baby."

"Don't call me that."

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Michaela—"

"I don't wanna talk about it, alright? I just need to see my daughter."

"Not like that you're not." I glared over at Negan as he slowly made his way over to me. "You'll scare her. Let's just get you out of those clothes—" Negan's hand gently tugged at the hem of my sleeve, earning a rough shove from me.

"Don't touch me!"

"Michaela, I'm just trying to help—"

"YOU'RE SMOTHERIN' ME!" I snapped. "I just need to see my fuckin' daughter."

"And you will, but I'm not gonna let you walk up there and let her see you like this." Negan motioned to my clothes. "I'm going to get you a clean set of clothes, alright?" I gently nodded. "Just breathe, okay? I'll be right back." I watched Negan as he disappeared upstairs, only to return with a pair of pajama pants and a worn The Who band tee. "It's the only thing that'll fit you," Negan mumbled.

"Thank you," I gently nodded and took the clothes from Negan.

"I'll, um...leave you to clean yourself up." Negan headed to the living room, allowing me to make my way into the kitchen. I gently sat down the pile of clothes and climbed out of my shirt and jeans, tossing them into the sink. I turned the water on, waiting until it ran cold before scrubbing the blood from my, arms, hand, neck, and face. Once clean, I turned the water off, dried myself, and changed into my new clothes. I stared down at my hand in silence. No matter how much I scrubbed, I felt dirty, like I'd never be clean from all that blood ever again. "I'm impressed," Negan softly spoke up from behind me.