✓𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧¹ | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥

2.2

Find the arsenal, lock it down, win win. It was how Carol got the advantage with the Wolves, so we can do it too.

"Don't do anything stupid." Rick pointed to me.

"And miss out on an amazing opportunity to be with my dad and uncle? Of course not." I swatted my hand.

"Do as we say." He held his gun.

"Yes Officer Grimes."

Rick led the way inside the building with his gun up. It was silent, our footsteps and heavy breathing could easily be heard, almost unnervingly so.

"Remember the signal." Rick said as they came to a three-way hallway. "If someone gets inside, don't risk the noise. Just find the guns."

I nodded and I started to go left.

"Stay safe, don't get hurt." My dad said to me before he went forward.

My heart pounded as all I travelled up was ascending staircases, to nowhere but dead end corridors. Sweat collected at the corners of my eyes and the top of my forehead.

It was hard to admit in the silence, but I couldn't help but feel scared..not for myself but for everyone else. Find the guns, we win. We win, by finding the guns. It was a simple task yet so difficult in this gut wrenching scenery. It was building up like foam but was weak and threatened to spill out. I could not fail today, I won't allow my cloudy head to interfere with my ability to do what was best.

Room after room, I opened them and found nothing.

I opened another room and there was nothing, I went inside all the way just to make sure. I had to be missing something.

There were a few hand weapons, crowbars and whatever. But no guns.

I pressed my palm against my forehead, before I heard a faint click of a gun cocking behind me.

"Don't scream." A voice said. I didn't recognise it. "Turn around, 'little dixon'."

I turned around and was met with a Saviour, a gun towards my head. "That's your name yeah?"

I death glared him, I had to buy time to think of a plan to get this guy away.

"You here on your own? You're a young one to be on your own." He stepped closer and adjusted his gun in hand. "Nice gun you got there. It's mine now." He pointed to the rifle I was clutching. "Drop it. Nice and slow."

I huffed, and slowly took the strap off my shoulders.

"Drop it, then kick it towards me."

"Can't you get it yourself?" I asked gruffly.

He looked taken back for a second at my sudden speech, guard dropped for a second. "What did you s-?" He dropped his gun down a bit to look at me properly.

I kept my gun firmly in my grasp, lifting it up again to squeeze the trigger and shoot him in the stomach. He curled over, fingers went loose on his gun. I snatched it and threw it on the other side of the room. His hands went to his bleeding stomach, groaning in pain.