FALLEN ANGEL ➵ DARYL DIXON [1] ✓

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Blinded In The End

Chapter 68

Martinez swings down the amber alcohol, stumbling backwards and nearly falling off of the roof of the caravan. He catches himself, trying to obtain his balance to hit the golf ball with his silver club. The Governor watches him like he's prey, standing beside him with his hands on his waist. He's waiting his turn, but he knows he won't be playing.

Bang.

Martinez has hit the white ball, it flying past the pits, a walker's fall. He bites his tongue, cursing to himself.

"Shit!" He exclaims, his other arm stretched out in front of The Governor. His palm is up, twitching his fingers.

"Hand me another one," he orders, The Governor slowly doing so to piss him off even more. Looks like he won't even hold the club.

Once The Governor finally retrives another ball, Martinez spits on it for good luck, placing it down on the roof. Half of his saliva soaks in, the other half just sliding right off.

"You know everyone's dead, right?" He randomly says, hitting the ball and missing again.

"I know," The Governor admits, the news not bothering him anymore.

"It's not the same after Woodbury," Martinez replies, gesturing for the bottle again. The Governor hands it over.

"I don't sleep at night ever since..." He trails off, The Governor replying with, "sorry."

He knows his words won't change anything, even a mere sorry won't ever cut it. He crossed the line, tearing people's lives apart forever. Even his own. He sometimes scares himself.

"There's just some things you can't come back from," Martinez begins, staring down at the open bottle of alcohol. "They become a part of who you are. Either you live with them, or you don't."

Martinez gulps down the liquor fast, wanting to forget everything, maybe even amnesia.

"Well, by the looks of things, you seem to be living with them pretty well," The Governor speaks, Martinez scoffing to himself.

He looks him dead in his one eye, "so are you."

Martinez grins, getting his own ball this time and setting the bottle down beside his leg. The Governor looks to the pit, walker's hands reaching slightly over the top. He swoops his eye back to Martinez, then back over. There's no other people around. Only himself and Martinez.

"You're family," Martinez says sincere, "otherwise I'd never of brought you back. You're lucky. But you're gonna loose them."

The Governor snaps. "I'm not going to loose them," he barks, knowing Martinez is referring to Lilly, Meghan and Girl. He didn't even realize how protective he was of them, until now. One wrong word, he's burning up like a person lit a cigarette. Or a stick of dynamite leaving a nasty mess.

Martinez turns his back, hitting the ball and missing by an inch. He's starting to give up.

"What?" The Governor shrugs, "you don't think you can keep this site safe. Is that it?"

Martinez giggles, rolling his eyes, "I try."

He holds out his hand, gesturing for The Governor to give him another ball. At this moment, The Governor is furious, keeping it locked inside deeply. But it's bound to soar high. He gives the golf ball over, Martinez placing it down gentle.

"We have to be prepared for whatever is out there," Martinez adds, "maybe now? Maybe we'll share the crown."

Share the crown...