Chapter 52
Joker and the Thief
Third Person~
"I went to the prison." Andrea told Phillip as she walked into his apartment. Last time they spoke of her going he told her that should she do so, she shouldn't bother coming back. But here she was. He glanced up from his glass of whiskey. "And I brought someone back with me." At this his attention was really caught and he got to his feet.
"Who?"
"A woman, she wasn't part of the attack on Woodbury. Her name is Olivia. She wants to join us."
"How do you know? How do I know she's not here to infiltrate us?" He asked sharply. Andrea cocked a brow at this.
"Phillip, this isn't the CSI you're dealing with. Their group is broken. There's unrest amongst them. She wanted out."
"Where is she?"
"Martinez is with her downstairs."
"So, Olivia. What made you leave your people for us?" Phillip asked, sitting across from her at the table with his hands pleasantly crossed in his lap. The woman was quite a sight, rail thin and sickly pale. She must have been supported by the others as someone in such a physical state couldn't be active enough to care for themselves. Her dark hair hung in heavy, greasy chunks, not having seen a comb in several days.
"They're broken. We live in a prison. It's a tomb." She said emotionlessly, her eyes flicking around to the windows. Martinez stood in front of the only door, his gun in hand but not being held in a menacing sense.
"They're broken?"
"Our leaders cracked, off the deep end. Glenn's spitten mad but some old one-legged fart stops him from ever doing something worth a damn. We got no one callin the shots but they can't make a decision for the life of them without someone to do that. Four kids, an old woman. A couple bitches. Two hicks, one of them your old guy. It's a shit show over there. They're gonna get it handed to them." Olivia rambled, spilling all the dirt on the prison group. Phillip struggled to keep from looking too smug about being handed this little well of information. But he had to be sure she wasn't feeding him.
"That's why you left. Why did you come?"
"You got safety, guns, numbers, food. Hell you got a whole town. Why wouldn't I come?" This response was delivered with a little attitude but the girl reeked of it so it was hard to tell what she meant by it, probably nothing.
"Anything in particular? Who are you watching for?" Her watch on the windows hadn't gone unnoticed by the Governor.
"Yeah actually. I heard Justin made it?"
*
When Daryl woke up the next morning the girl he was wrapped around was still fast asleep. Last night she'd followed him into his cell, only to change into modest pajamas and curl up beside him on the bunk. He hadn't pushed or protested, just wound an arm around her and submitted to sleep with the scent of her shampoo filling his nose.
Now he propped himself up on one elbow and couldn't help but look at the face below him with affection. She looked so young and innocent in her sleep, long curling lashes resting on defined cheekbones. He carefully untangled from her and crawled over her sleeping frame and off the bed, causing her to stir but not wake. He dressed quietly and slipped out, leaving her to rest.
"Hey, little brother." Daryl was greeted by Merle when he reached the lower floor. Daryl dropped him a nod as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of pocket, offering one to his brother too. Merle stayed in the doorway of an empty cell as Daryl leaned on the concrete wall opposite him, propping a foot on it like a young punk or some old cowboy. They smoked in silence for a few minutes until Merle spoke. "Your group's a train wreck, man." Daryl glanced at him through the tobacco haze he'd just exhaled. "Seriously. Everyone's got their heads too far up their own asses to do anything worth a damn. They need a wakeup call."

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No Rest For the Wicked ~ A Walking Dead Fan Fiction
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