We were getting the food, when I realized these guys weren't too bad... Well, at least a couple of them weren't. I kept a straight face, though. Never really laughing or smiling towards them. I didn't want to show them too much emotion. Finally, we got to where the food was. I walked in and scoffed, looking at Greasy. "Not that much, huh?" "Goes by quick." I rolled my eyes, then looked to T-Dog. "Let's hurry with this... I wanna get done with that cellblock as soon as we can... The little bit of light from the windows, is still a necessity." He nodded, and we started grabbing food. I grabbed a little more than half, but who the hell cares. I give these guys 1 month, tops. We took the boxes of food into the cell block, and I stopped in, checking on Maggie and Beth. They looked exactly how I would expect. Tear stained cheeks, puffy red eyes, and small whimpers escaping Beth's lips were heard only if everyone in the cellblock was quiet. I couldn't say anything, because I had never known how that felt. I mean, when my family left me, I was never sad. I never cried or mourned... I was pissed. I broke everything they owned, I punched walls... But never once did I ever feel like it was a real loss... I just felt stabbed in the back... I looked to the stone floor, shaking my head. "Rick! Let's hurry with that cellblock."
"You go for the head... And Greasy, you don't fire that damn gun, unless it's your very last option, got it?" The man chuckled, but I glared. "Anything for you, Kitten." I rolled my eyes, then grabbed a machette. "Ready?"
We walked through the tunnels, soon finding one stray walker roaming. I stepped back a little when all the prisoners took towards the walker, doing some sort of prison riot, jumping thing. I raised my eyebrows, but god damn it they didn't even hit the head once. "Hit... The... Damn... Head..." I growled. They all stopped, then one hit to the skull and the walker was down. I pointed my knife at Greasy, and another guy.. Big tiny? "You better fucking hit the head first next time." They both nodded a bit, and I kept going through the tunnels, hearing the mumbles and whatever behind me.
We kept walking, then saw a small group of walkers. "Head..." I warned, and they began fighting. They still did a little bit of riot shit, but they over all did pretty good. That was, until I heard a scream. I ran around the corner, then saw that the largest man, 'Tiny' had gotten bit. He continuosly insisted he was okay, but everyone else knew better. "There's nothing we can do." I said once again with a sigh. "You fucking bitch." One of the other guys mumbled to me. I raised my eyebrow at him, when suddenly I heard yelling. Rick and Daryl both had grabbed me, pulling me behind them. Tiny was on the ground, and Greasy was on top of him. Blood slashed all around, and Daryl's grip on me tightened it seemed with every hit Greasy made onto Tiny. He looked insane, he looked like he slightly enjoyed it, the way his lips curved to an almost smirk, and the slight amount of excitement in his eyes with every strike that he did. It reminded me of someone. It reminded me of my father. I felt my eyes grow wide as it all seemed so... Perfect. The look in his eyes, the way he continently threw blows down onto I him. He was like a replica. I unconsciously found myself slouching behind Daryl slightly, but hardly enough that anyone other than Daryl would tell. He glanced at me, then pushed me gruffly the rest of the way behind him, glaring darkly as Greasy got up and gave us a look. He walked away, as if nothing had happened. Daryl looked at Rick, whispering "Just say when." He kept his eyes glued all around me, and wouldn't allow me within 6 feet of Greasy, not that I'd wanna be anyways.
Soon we were met with the set of double doors. Rick yelled for Greasy only to open one door, but I watched as 2 doors swung open, walkers flooding out. "He said one door!" I growled at Greasy. "Shit happens babydoll!" He called back. I swung my machete down multiple times, each time harder than the other, getting out every ounce of aggression that I could. That was, until I felt myself get pushed to the ground, a weight pushing down on my stomach enough that I couldn't breathe. I coughed, soon realizing it was Rick. A walker was on top of him. I was struggling under them, but soon enough, the walker, and Rick were yanked off of me. Daryl held me tightly, but T was the one to start checking me. He said I had a huge bruise on my side now, but nothing more. I nodded, just in time to watch the stare off between Rick and Greasy. Rick's hand suddenly went to his machete, and he swung it down on Greasy's head. I felt my eyes grow wide, but quickly rushed as I saw the other prisoner swung his bat. I pushed the bat the other way, letting it hit my forearm hard. I kicked him in the neck, watching him fly to the ground trying to get air. He quickly scurried away from us, into the tunnels even farther. "I got him." Rick said in a deep, low voice. I nodded, then pulled a gun to Axel's head. He began pleading, until the other man told him to just shut the hell up. I sighed as Rick joined us back into the room. They walked the prisoners outside, then put them in a tower with about 2 weeks of food. "Kat..." I heard Rick say quietly as we were making out way back. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I... You told me your dad, was... A mean guy... But, I wanna know more... I mean, you don't have to tell me, but all you've ever said was that he was a bad guy and had to do testing in the CDC because they though it was something with his brain... I noticed the way you hid from Tomas... Was it because of that?" I looked him in the eyes, then gulped. "Yeah... Yeah it was... And. I'll tell you. Eventually." He slowly nodded, then sighed. "Okay... Whenever you wanna talk... You know I'm here." I gave him a single nod, my eyes peeling to the ground. I watched his shoes walk slightly ahead of me, walking into the prison. "Eventually..."
I walked into the cell block, then looked to Hershel. He looked sick, his skin a light pail, and his lips a dark burgundy. "He died... Mom saved him." I heard beside me. I looked down at what I still considered a child, but many others probably wouldn't. "Really... Well ain't that something.... Who got those bandages?" He sighed. "I did." I shook my head, looking at him. "Hershel was just bit, and you're doing stupid stuff like running off by yourself? Huh?" I grumbled at him. He shrugged. "He needed them, and you were busy. You know you would've done it too." "Don't matter what I would've done. You ain't me." "But I wanna be like you." I sighed, shaking my head a bit. "No you don't, kid. Just... Don't pull a move like that again, got it?" He nodded a bit, and I patted his back. I walked away, grabbing my bow and a knife. "I'ma go hunting." I grumbled as I slung my bow onto my back, along with all my arrows. "I'll go with you." I groaned, but smirked at Daryl a little. He smiled a bit, then grabbed his crossbow as he told Rick he was leaving with me. Rick gave us a nod. "Be back before sundown..."
We were on a dirt road. We both had been silent the whole ride, and I stared out the window. "I understand, you probably don't wanna talk 'bout it. But you hid from Tomas..." He mumbled lightly. I looked at him. "Why?" I shrugged a bit, looking down. He stayed silent, glancing at me with a breath. "He reminded me of my dad. The way he enjoyed what he was doing. The way he took the first opportunity to do it." I mumbled. Daryl nodded slowly, his eyes locked onto the road. "You wanna talk a little more about it?" I shrugged. "Not really." Daryl nodded a moment, then looked at me. "My dad never just hit me because he liked to... He was always too drunk to understand really... Or too... Angry." He looked back at the road. I knew what he was trying to, so I threw him a sad smile. "My dad... He went to Iraq, before he had me, or any of his kids... My mom always said he wasn't messed up, until after he came home. The cops kept coming to our house, and then... Then they made him start doing tests, then they made me start doing tests, because they believed that maybe, the malfunction in his brain was due to a terrorist... Something another. They thought maybe me, my brother, and my sister could've been passed the same problem, but nobody knew where they were... So they did tests on me. They always saw bruises, cuts. They knew what he did, but they didn't want to compromise their stupid experiments... One night, when I was sixteen he got so mad... He always had this gun, he liked to scare us with it, sometimes shoot next to our feet... But he took it, and he pointed it at me... When I thought he was gonna pull the trigger... He turned it around and opened his mouth... I'd never seen anything so... Gory. So disgusting... They couldn't find my mom, or any of my family for that matter, so I was in foster care... Then Sal, who was my boss, moved me in with him and his wife, Maria..." Daryl had stopped the truck, and looked at me. He eyes were sad and his lips slightly parted. "Where... Where was your mom?" He asked quietly, but I could tell he was debating asking. "She left, along with every other member of my family. My sister, my brother, and hell even my cousins and grandparents... They all just.. Left. When I was 13." He nodded a bit, then sighed. I felt a single tear roll down my cheek, but Daryl's hand quickly wiped it away. "I..." "Don't worry, Daryl. You don't have to say anything..." He leaned in softly, his lips pressing against mine. "How many people know that happened?" "I told the cops I wasn't home... No one." I said quietly. He gave me a sad smile. "I love you, Kat." I smiled. "I love you too, Dare."
