Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 40: The Hilltop

Down the road and up another muddy dirt path, we approach a large set of corrugated metal doors, the only visible break in the impressive span of walls. Two men appear on either side of the doors, wielding spears.

"Stop right there!" one of them barks.

Immediately, there's a chorus of clicks as everyone around me raises their guns. Michonne grips her katana hilt, and my hand snaps to the strap holding my bow on my shoulder.

"Woah," Jesus says, hands up.

"You gonna make us?" Daryl snaps.

"Jesus, what the hell is this?" the other man shouts.

"Open the gates, Cal," Jesus calls, his hands still up, held out at both sides. "Freddie's hurt." He sighs as he glances back at us. "Sorry about these guys. They get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing."

"They give up the weapons. Then we'll open the gates," Cal says.

"Why don't you come down here and get 'em?" Daryl retorts.

"Gentleman!" Harlan calls, stepping forward to the front of the pack. "Look, we vouch for these people, alright? They saved us out there!"

"Lower the spears," Jesus says through clenched teeth.

"Look, I'm not taking any chances," Rick says. "Tell your guy Gregory to come out here."

"No," Jesus says. "Don't you see what just happened? I'm letting you keep your guns."

In this new world, that's a bigger gesture than most.

Jesus exhales. "Look, we ran out of ammo months ago. I like you people. I trust you. Trust us."

Rick takes a second to think, then waves over his head in a silent command for everyone to lower their weapons. The gates swing open after another request from Jesus, revealing a quaint, historic little community with a large mansion overseeing the land. There's a barn and a blacksmith shop to the immediate left of the gates, and far off to the right is a row of white trailers topped with solar panels. A woman walks a cow to a small stable, and a few other people mill around a garden, pulling weeds and watering. Chickens cluck and peck at the feed thrown to them in their pen.

It's peaceful. I want to believe that that's all it is.

"There was a materials yard for a power company nearby," Jesus explains. "That's how we put up the walls. A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them."

"How did people find out about this place?" Michonne asks.

"That's called Barrington House," Jesus says, motioning to the grand mansion before us. "The family that owned it gave it to the state in the '30s. The state turned it into a living history museum. Every elementary school for 50 miles used to come here for field trips."

I smile to myself. I haven't been to a museum like this in years. I used to love visiting them as a child.

"The place was running a long time before the modern world built up around it. I think people came here because they figured it'd keep running after the modern world broke down," Jesus says. He points to the windows at the height of the mansion. "Those windows up there let us see for miles in every direction. It's perfect for security. Come on. I'll show you inside."

Inside is just as antique and beautiful as the outside. A winding staircase greets us as we enter the wide foyer, brass candleholders and chandeliers lining the walls and dangling from the high ceilings. Art decorates the walls, each framed in ornate gold or intricately carved wood. Silver candlesticks sit atop wooden tables, and beside the carved banister is a seating area with plush couches.