[11]: the camp

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We had been driving for God-knows how long.

I don't think I had spoken a single word for a week, not even to myself. No. I knew that I hadn't spoken a word for a week. I don't think that I could speak if I tried since my voice-box was probably too weak from not being used.

Daryl was driving next to me, chewing on his thumbnail whilst leaning his arm on the open window. He looked more tired each day, as he was the one that took most time being on watch. It wasn't even discussed if I could keep watch, it was just silently agreed that I would never do that. 1: because I found it hard to stay awake, even in the day. 2: I couldn't fend for myself. And 3: I don't think they trusted me enough. That last one probably became better over time, because they trusted me enough to fix one of their jackets once with needle and thread. That probably wasn't a good enough reason.

See, I talk a lot... just in my head, I knew it annoyed people.

We were going slightly uphill, and I closed my window so I would get any dust in my eyes. As we made it up to the top of the hill, I saw an RV with a few other cars, and some tents roughly scattered around a put-out campfire.

A buff man, with curly black hair under a cap, lifted a heavy shotgun towards our approaching vehicles. The truck abruptly stopped, and the motorbike stopped beside us.

"The usual," Daryl muttered before hopping out and shutting the door behind him to probably speak with the man and talk to Merle. "The Usual" used to be an extended version of, "Stay here! Don't be scared to threaten anyone approaching, if they threaten you just keep them talking until we come back," but I had heard it so many times that he eventually shortened it.

I remembered Daryl and Merle were discussing once what would happen if we met some survivors, and I remember Merle telling Daryl that they would raid whatever the strangers had. I did hope that they wouldn't do that this time, this camp looked descent.

I watched as the guy slowly lowered his gun as they approached slowly, hands in the air. I couldn't hear what they were saying, and I watched as more people emerged from the camp to see who was new.

There was a tall woman clutching what looked to be her son's shoulders; two blonde women, who looked to be sisters; an older man with a fisherman's hat; an Asian boy with a baseball cap; a woman with cut short grey hair; and a scattering of other people.

The Dixon's turned to look at me when the buff man pointed at me. Daryl walked back over and opened up my door.

"Looks like we'll be staying 'ere. I think they jus' wanna' know you ain' being held agains' yer will," Daryl said quietly, and I nodded. Once again not speaking.

He opened the door wider for me whilst I got out and shut it behind me. I bravely walked over to the buff man still talking to Merle. I only caught the end of their conversation.

-"we hun', got some squirrels in the back," Merle said hoarsely. I approached them and Merle set a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"This here's Marley Van Allan... she dun' talk much... my brother saved 'er ass when shit hit the fan," he chuckled. I looked up nervously to the tall man and smiled the best I could. I had the make them think I wasn't being used as some toy by the Dixons... because it was the truth.

"Well, Marley, I'm Shane Walsh," he greeted as he stuck out his hand. I firmly grasped his hand with my small one, and he gently shook it. I think he saw me as some child since I was just really short and quiet.

"Well, you three can get yer stuff settled, find a spot. You two'll be a good asset. Thank you," he said at the two Dixon brothers, then he turned back to me and winked. I felt a blush creep up to my cheeks. I couldn't help it, this man was good-looking.

My bag was soon shoved into my arms, and an extra tent we had picked up a while back. I'm glad that they didn't just let me try to find and share with someone else. They knew I wouldn't want that.

+

After setting up my camp like I did most nights, I sighed in relief that I knew I wasn't going to have to take it down early in the morning.

I decided that I should probably introduce myself to people around camp, and get my voice-box working again. But I quickly changed into some fresher clothes, which I couldn't do as often around two men. I changed into some three-quarter jeans and a red plaid button-up. I then slipped on my leather boots and walked out of my tent.

I decided to look around, and see if I could bump into someone.

I walked around the camp, but I was encaptured by the view by the RV. There was a large quarry, complete with a blue sparkling lake. I saw some women, and they looked to me washing some clothes. Suddenly someone tapped my shoulder, and jumped but turned to see who it was.

It was the woman and the young boy I saw earlier.

"I thought I'd introduce myself, I'm Lori Grimes," she said shaking my hand, then turning to gesture to her son, "And this is my son Carl,"

I smiled down at the boy, as he shook my hand. I finally found my voice.

"I'm Marley Van Allan," I said.

"C'mon, I'll show you around," she said kindly and put a hand on my shoulder, ushering me around.

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