AND THEN I FOUND YOU » Daryl Dixon

2. STRANGERS

Chapter re-written 7/06/23

The rumbling engine grew louder as a pale green Hyundai came into view over the slight hill in the distance. A trail of orange leaves shot into the air behind the vehicle as it sped down the narrow road, heading straight for her.

Sunlight beamed off the metal exterior, indicating how clean and well-kept it was. Most of the vehicles from where she was held consisted of beaten-up trucks that were covered in blood and dirt. Perhaps these people were from someplace different.

Nevertheless, their intentions were unknown and that made them a threat. Jasmin shrugged the sheath off her shoulder and pulled out her sword, allowing herself more capacity for movement.

If it came down to a fight, the likelihood of her coming out on top was slim. Given her body's current condition, it was difficult for her to even exude an aura of intimidation.

Her stomach had forgotten what the term 'full' meant. Despite surviving on her own for almost a year, she was still yet to master the skill of hunting game. That meant she had to eat whatever was around, whether that be a handful of nuts, canned dog food, or even rotting fruit.

Lack of regular meals led her body down the path of starvation and who would be intimidated by a girl who was as weak and close to death as she was? Which was where the saying 'fake it till you make it' came in handy.

As the car got reached a distance of around thirty feet in front of her, it began to slow down before coming to a complete stop. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to get a glimpse of the occupants behind the tinted windshield. Just barely was she able to make out two men sitting in the front seats.

Men were never a welcome sight for a woman surviving on her own. Especially given her previous experiences with them.

Their eyes were carefully trained on her as they conversated back and forth with one another. The driver spoke once more to the man in the passenger seat before they both stepped out of the vehicle. Not once had any of them broken eye contact.

Both men made their way toward her with caution but not without radiating an intimidating atmosphere themselves. Jasmin's knuckles began to turn white as she gripped the sword's handle. At first, it seemed like they wouldn't stop walking until they reached her — she knew that would lead to a fight. Which is why she was surprised when both of them stopped in their tracks a good ten feet away.

If they meant her harm, they wouldn't have stopped, right?

That is what she thought until she saw the crossbow in one of the man's grasp. Even if she had tried to run, he could have easily taken her out in a split second. With that thought, she tried to remain perfectly still. The last thing she needed was to provoke them into an attack.

The driver hovered his hand dangerously close to the revolver in his holster, tapping it gently as he studied her from a distance. His hair was brown and slicked back with sweat that had also soaked his khaki button-up shirt. Though he was subtle in warning her about his weapon, the bowman on his right was more blatant with his.

His finger was curled around the trigger while his toned arms held the crossbow over his torso, ready to raise it and aim if need be. He had shoulder-length dark hair that matched his attire which consisted of a black button-up with torn-off sleeves, dark jeans, and a black leather vest.

I wonder what his favourite colour is, she attempted to humour herself.

She hadn't met many people before the world fell apart, thanks to the seclusion she was consistently forced into, which meant she was never able to figure out her type. Judging by the way her heart rate picked up at the sight of him, she supposed he must have been it.