Chapter 3

44.2K 1.1K 445
                                    

We had successfully made the trade without incident. Glenn, T-Dog, Daryl, Rick and I left the place. Nobody pursued us.

When we were far enough away, we stopped. Rick turned to me. "Thank you for fixing that situation. I feel obligated to ask you if you'd like to join our group," he said.

Daryl spat on the ground, easily annoyed by Rick's hospitality. And the fact that he was inviting me to stay.

"I'd love to, but-"

"But what?" asked T-Dog.

"I've made it okay on my own so far, and if hate to be a burden," I said. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't actually the truth either.

"You already are," Daryl mumbled under his breath.

I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes at Daryl. "You know what, I'd love to stay with you all," I said triumphantly.

"Perfect. Lets get back to the van so we can get to camp before dark," Rick said.

"Hey Glenn," I said, calling him over. He slowed and walked next to me.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Sorry about earlier. I should've just shot him and got it over with," I apologized.

"Don't worry about it. If you would've shot them the walkers would've surrounded you. Who knows if you would've made it," he said.

"So, how many more do you have back at the camp?" I asked him.

"An awful lot. Twenty maybe? Rick's wife and son, a woman named Andrea and her sister, an old guy named Dale, and a Mexican family, among others. We all get along pretty well," he said.

We began to approach some train tracks. The others seemed taken aback by something. "What's wrong?" I asked, pulling my gun.

"Oh my God," Glenn said.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked, his voice rising.

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn asked desperately.

"Merle," Rick said, his voice dropping an octave in anger.

"He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp," Daryl said.

"Perfect," I said, shaking my head.

"Let's not waste any time. We need to get back before dark," Rick said.

We took off running. I had absolutely no clue where I was going, so I ran behind everyone. At dusk, and after what seemed like ages, we started to slow down. We exchanged looks.

"I'll introduce you to everyone," Rick offered. We started walking towards the camp.

The bloodcurdling scream followed by gun shots stopped us in our tracks. We exchanged quick glances, then pulled out our weapons and ran towards the sound. Among the group of tents, cars, and an RV, were at least 30 walkers. We all began shooting down the walkers, myself included. It occurred to me that these people weren't my problem, but I couldn't let them be torn apart by those monsters. So I kept shooting.

The last gun fired and I stood there, unable to move, looking at the mass of bodies laying before me. People who had children and had been accountants or teachers or postal workers. A shudder ran through me, and I realized that it could have been me out there, lifeless and hungry for flesh, attacking this poor group. I was thankful I wasn't on my own any longer.

We all stood there, shocked, those of us with loved ones clutching them, some who had lost them crying. A tall, muscular man with wavy black hair was the first to speak.

"Who's she?" he asked, addressing Rick. Rick pulled out of the grasp of who I assumed was his wife and son, then addressed the man.

"That's Rosaline. She helped us out in Atlanta," Rick explained. Daryl scoffed, but was ignored.

"So why is she here?" the man asked.

"Shane, she was all by herself. She wouldn't have survived much longer," Rick said in exasperation.

"Well it's nice to have you here, Rosaline," Shane said, giving me a small smile.

"Thank you," I managed to croak out.

Those whose families had survived the attack went to bed. Something told me that there wouldn't be much sleeping, but whatever they could get would be okay. Carol, Glenn, Rick, Daryl, Shane and I waited up. Carol's husband was killed in the attack, and their tent was basically useless with all the blood splattered inside it. Carol and her daughter, Sophia, stayed in the wing of Shane's tent for the night.

"Where can I stay?" I asked Rick.

"Daryl has an extra place to sleep, without Merle, and Glenn has a lot of extra room. It's your choice," Rick said.

"She ain't staying with me," Daryl muttered under his breath. I gave him a dirty look and rolled my eyes.

I turned to Glenn. "Would you mind terribly?" I asked.

"Of course not," he said.

"Alright, now that everything is settled, we can try to get some sleep. We'll deal with the bodies in the morning," Rick said, then headed to his own tent. Shane gave me a warm smile and then headed off himself. I followed Glenn to his tent.

"You'll be in that room there," he said, gesturing to the one in the back of the tent. "If you need anything, or if you hear something or whatever, wake me up," he said.

"Thanks," I said, then unzipped the flap and went inside.

The room was the smallest of the four the tent had. It was empty, which was a good sign. I changed from my dirty jeans into an equally soiled pair of sweat pants, then pulled out my sleeping bag. I laid down on top of it, but my mind was running a mile a minute and I knew I would never get to sleep. After contemplating for a second if I should leave the tent, I finally decided to. I unzipped it as quietly as I could, hoping not to wake Glenn. I sat down on a round of wood, but only the orange embers of the fire still remained.

There was a rustling in off to my right, and I immediately regretted not grabbing my gun before I left the tent. I scrambled up quickly, then hid behind someone's Jeep. The rustling got closer, and then I felt a hand touch my shoulder from behind.

Daring Dixon (A Daryl Dixon fanfiction) Where stories live. Discover now