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(Warning: this chapter has some violence I guess.)
Daryl was loading his crossbow, as he leant against the car, when Rick came over. Everybody else was loading the trunk of the car with their weapons and supplies, preying that they weren't about to walk into a trap.
"Is everybody ready?" Rick asked, marching over. "We should get going before we lose too much light."
"We're ready whenever you are boss." Oscar nodded, slamming the boot shut. "Cars all loaded."
"Alright. Lets get going then. Before we're too late." Rick said, opening the car door.
"Hey," Daryl said, before Rick got into the vehicle. "You don't gotta go if you ain't feelin' up to it."
"No, I do. These are our people." He insisted, leaning on the car door. "Besides, I feel fine."
Daryl didn't believe Rick, but if he wanted to go to Woodbury with them he couldn't exactly stop him. And they did need the numbers, especially because the strong ones — Ophelia, Glenn and Maggie — were missing. Daryl just hoped that they were okay.
He couldn't help thinking about the worst possible outcomes. But, there was one in particular that he had to stop, losing somebody else he loved.
"Alright." Daryl nodded, getting into the passenger seat. "Let's get goin'."
❦❦❦
Ophelia wasn't sure how long had passed when The Governor walked through the door and into her room. He looked different to how she'd pictured him. He wasn't that old, more middle aged, with a face like stone and a scowl on his lips. He wasn't messy or rough looking, like she'd thought, instead, he was clean shaven and well trimmed.
As he walked into the room, he kept his lips pressed into a thin line. He'd bought a small chair with him — he probably didn't want to sit on a unsteady table — and a small glass of whiskey. He placed the chair a few yards in front off her, and then made himself comfortable in it.
He didn't say anything at first as he put his half empty glass on the table and leant back in his chair. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife — much like the pocket knife she kept in her shoe — and sighed heavily. Ophelia watched him carefully, as he proceeded to sharpen it.
He was trying to intimidate her, like a twisted soul, and with each swipe of his blade, he made sure it echoed loudly in the room. The girl was somewhat worried — she'd just heard Glenn screaming agonisingly next door, and it was infuriating to her that she couldn't help, especially because she'd never heard a cry quite so painful.
