Shared Blood (A Walking Dead fan fic.)

Survivalist Sanctuary - Chapter 11

IN FIRST PERSON

Rick looked steadily uncomfortable in Lori's grip. He slid away from her carefully and glanced over his shoulder at Hershel. "I'm gonna check the rest of this place out." He called clutching his pistol on his belt.

I raised an eyebrow at Daryl and he just shook his head quietly. Daryl was the most quiet of the group. Very laid back but that was probably why I liked him. Lori irked me with the way she was so friendly, Andrea from what I had heard shot Daryl. And Carol basically does nothing but whine. The group was interesting and by the looks was falling apart but they had survived this long haven't they? 

I shouldn't judge though. Better than my last ally...

"So where's my bunker." I asked casually getting up from the table.

"Right where you were." Hershel said walking over to the room I was in. The sheets were stained with a dark blood red from my arm and for the first time I realized the clean bandage tightly wrapping my upper left arm. "Glenn and Maggie will probably make a run sometime soon. They'll getcha what you need." 

I nodded to him and he left the room. It was small and not very welcoming to say the least but it was good shelter. Not the farm. But good shelter. Each wall was a tough blank concrete along with the floor matching the hardness of it all. The bed was made of metal with a tough worn mattress and white sheets disregarding the blood stains. A toilet was embedded in the far left corner along with a sink. Neither of which would run without power but they were still there. If I could find a can of paint I could easily make it slightly less unwelcoming but it would take a lot of work to make a prison a warm and happy enviorment.

Not that I was one for warm and fuzzy blankets with rainbow covered walls but anything would be better than the slate grey pattern of the place.

I shrugged and walked out. "Is there any chance in reclaiming the barn?" I asked frowning slightly.

"Not quite." Hershel sighed. He was hurt by losing his home, I would be too, it was beautiful. Untouched from the rest of what had happened to the world.

"Maybe once we had enough weapons and equitment but even then a dangerous job." He sat at the plastic table outside the cells. "If we worked at it I'm sure we could make this place home." He shrugged.

"Optimistic." I snickered joining him.

Daryl shook his head and joined us at the table. "Caylx look around you. This place was made for walkers." He gestured around the place. "Those fields out there are protected by high strong barbed wire fences. They were made so no man can escape...or come in for that matter." Daryl nodded.

"Each window is barred. even the doors to the bunkers are secure." Hershel chimed.

They were right. It was perfect. If they cleared out the place and got enough supplies they wouldn't even have to leave. It was a survivalist's sanctuary.

"Your right." I furrowed my eyebrows and shifted my gaze over to the little boy looking out the window.

"Whatcha doin bud?" I asked curious glancing over to him.

He shoke his head lightly before retreating to his bunker. I shrugged getting up to stretch my legs. "I'm gonna take a walk outside I think." I nodded grabbing my bow and slinging my quiver over my shoulder. Daryl nodded to me with a careful eye and I headed out.

Hershel walked me through the path out. The one that was clear of walkers as if you go anywhere else the halls are crawling with them. Rick had warned me earlier but it was only a quick thought. But you could see them if you went too close to the sides of the walls. Hands reaching through the bars or turning the heads slowly to hearing us chatter.