My Brothers And Sisters In Arms - (TWD FanFiction) [ON HOLD]

I'm Busy Death Glaring People

*unedited

Harper

"Daryl, Harper, you cover the back." Deputy Dumb-fuck ordered. I nodded, standing shoulder to shoulder with the younger Dixon, a gun with a silencer in one hand and my 12-inch knife in the other, poised to strike, no matter the complaints from my ribs.

"Hello? Hello?" Rick called into the lobby, receiving no answer.

"Close those doors. Watch for walkers." Dale told Daryl and I.

I sighed, finding a keypad that would need administrative authorisation to close the door. "Doesn't look like we'll be able to just do that, Dale." I broke the news to him, gesturing to the keypad. He sighed.

"Just keep watch then. Don't strain your ribs, Harper."

"Whatever you say, Boss Man." I saluted sarcastically, earning a snort from Daryl.

"I'm serious, Harper." Dale eyed me.

"Hi serious, I'm Harper." Daryl scoffed. Dale sighed, keeping an eye on me.

"Yer such a child."

"Tell me that again when you grow up, Squirrel Boy." Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Hello?" Rick repeated behind mine and Daryl's backs. The sound of a gun cocking triggered me to turn around, aiming my gun at the sound, eyes narrowed as I scanned the darkness. One man stood in a doorway, a rifle in his hands. From the way he held it, I recognised him to be inexperienced and lowered my own gun.

"Anybody infected?" He asked as I turned back around, eyeing the walkers who stumbled around outside.

"One of our group was. He didn't make it." Rick answered. Now, why on Earth did he say that to a man who's 'make or break' when it comes to letting us in might be our experiences with walkers and those to-be? Fuck knows. But I'd have said that was a bad move if I'm honest.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The man asked.

Rick caught my eye. "Don't you go looking to me, Officer Friendly, it was your call." I chuckled, earning an exhalation of breath through the nose and a small smirk from Rick-a-dilly.

Rick turned back to Jenner. "A chance." He answered.

"That's asking an awful lot these days." The man answered, a grim expression on his face.

I turned around fully again, patting Glenn's shoulder and gesturing to where I stood before sidling up to Rick. "Oh, we know that Sir, probably more than anyone. Take my ribs for example," I mentioned, gently pulling up my tank just enough for him to see half of the damage -- brutal-looking dark blue and black bruises littered my skin where my ribs sat, a yellowish-greenish hue surrounding the outside of the bruises. The man inhaled sharply. "These were newly healed a couple of days ago. First time I fell down the stairs of some house after puking up everything I ate for a good four days or so, just yesterday I got my ass handed to me by a guy with a bat. Yeah, I knocked his ass flat out for a couple hours, but I still came out worse." I looked up from scanning him to meet his eyes, dropping the hem of my tank top back down. "And that was just me. My Lil' Bro even got kidnapped. Sure, we figured it out, no-one died, but it all just goes to show that we know how much chances cost. But when we're handed chances like these, we need to take them. Name your price, as long as it's not outlandish like asking us all to jump out a helicopter with no parashoot or something, we'll do it."

The man lowered his weapon. A ghost of a smile on his face. "You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that," Rick answered.