The Walking Dead: Danielle Grimes

77.

Daryl's POV

The next morning someone kicked me in the leg. I jolt awake, my mind foggy with what has happened. I tried to move but realise I'm not in the position I was in last night. I'm sitting somehow, leaning against a tree. I try to move my hands but they are tied in front of me with rope.

"Get up." A man's voice commands angrily.

I look up and everything from the day before came rushing back making my head pound. I reach my tied hands and touch the side of my head, grimacing when I touch the spot where he hit me.

"Hey, get up." The man repeats when I make no move to do so. I glare at him till he pulls a gun out and aims it at my face. "We're moving." He growls. He looks rough, like they have been on the road but barely a layer of dirt so not long. His eyes are hard. Hard and desperate. "Here's the deal. You don't say shit and I don't kill you."

I don't react to the gun and just stare the man down. "I ain't who ya think." I growl at him. I'm pissed he got the drop on me and even more now that I'm tied up. It's morning so I've been gone all night.

I was meant to be back with my girl by now but instead here I am with this asshole.

The guns clicks and he moves it closer to me. "Say something else." He challenges. "Go ahead."

I don't react and that seems to make him more madder. He jerks me to my feet by the front of my shirt. "Follow them." He orders, shoving me forward to the two women who are waiting for us ten feet away.

This is bullshit.

The two women seem to know where they are going. The aren't just wandering. They're talking to each other in low voices but I kept my focus on the guy behind me. Not that I discounted them because they were woman. Hell, Dani taught me a lot about that. I can tell they aren't fighters because that isn't easy to hide.

We had gone a little ways when the older of the two, the brunette, offered me a bottle of water. "Have it." She says, holding it towards me. I look away and try to keep going when the guy snatches it out of her hands and steps in front of me.

"We didn't need you falling down. Drink." He shoves the bottle into my hands making me glare at him.

I tip it up and chug down the last few inches out of the bottle. It was clear water making me wander where they got it from. This looks like water out of a community or something. Not out of a pond or lake. Our water at the prison was never this clean.

The guy stares at me, his eyes narrowed. "They find us, maybe we give you to them and they let us call it even. See, we're reasonable people. Everybody's got their code. You feel you gotta kneel, that's fair enough. We don't. Let's go." He says shoving me ahead of him.

I frown as I think over his words. He's keeping me because he thinks I'm a useful hostage, trouble is, I have no clue who the hell the people are he is talking about. Wonder if it has something to do with the assholes with the guns who ran me off the road.

"I can't believe we're back." The blonde says in shock, glancing around the burned forest. "It isn't home anymore." The brunette tells her firmly. It seems like even though the brunette has the gun, the brunette is the one in charge.

"This is a pit stop. We pick up patty, nothing more than that." The man growls. We walk a little longer before the blonde speaks up as she stares at the trees in wonder. "How'd you do it?"