Feral. (A walking dead love story)

Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

"You say the seven of you killed all of those?" Tomas pointed to the bodies on the patio floor "There must be fifty bodies out here!"

"We did. And that's why you shouldn't mess with us." I put my hand on the gun I had attached to my belt.

"Ma'am, is it true? Is it really nothing left?" The one that they called Big Tiny spoke. I shook my head in agreement "I promised my old lady I'd visit her when I left this place."

"Life sucks, huh?"  I shrugged.

Somehow, in this occasion I had no sympathy for them. I knew it was a brutal situation; being locked up somewhere and them someone finally frees you to a world that is totally wrecked. I could only imagine that as a result of all this fighting and loosing people my heart had finally gone numb.

"Cell five. I told before that was mine, I want it." Tomas stated so eloquently I almost gave in.

"That's not yours anymore." I said "Either you live under our conditions or you leave. There's no negotiating."

I heard steps coming from behind me, I'd have turned in defensive, but all the convicts were right in front of me, therefore I had nothing to worry.

"You heard her; either you do what we say or you get the hell out." It was Rick.

"It was ours long before you got here." Tomas said briskly.

"You'll do as we tell you to." Rick took a step closer in Tomas' direction.

"There must be a way we can all live together." Axel intervened.

"The other side of the prison..." I scratched my chin "Maybe we can clear it and you can stay there."

I first thought Rick wasn't going to agree with this idea, but once more I was surprise with his decision. He agreed that our group helped the prisoners clear and set the other cell block.

****
I took the liberty to be on guard while the others tried to clean the off the walls and burn the cadavers that were still laying on the floor.
In the distance I saw one or two lonely walkers that were attracted by the fire, but as they weren't a problem I didn't shoot.

"You were a cop too?" A Hispanic accent echoed from behind me.

"Tomas?" The opened door led to a dark room that I wasn't able to see a thing in.

Although it could only be him, since he was the only one whose mother language wasn't English, he startled me when he appeared in the sun.

"A cop? No I worked in marketing." I said, trying to mask my emotions.

"You're a good mediator." He sat on the floor by my side "Rick was a cop, right? I always know it."

"He was a cheriff." I crossed my arms in defensive.

"I just want to say I appreciate what you've done for us earlier."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for us. Don't ever mistake that again. They're my family, you're just a bunch of strangers I don't want to be responsible for slaughtering."

"I get it, I get it." He raised both of his hands.

"What are you here for?"

He came closer to me, his face some inches to mine, his dark brown eyes starting straight at mine "You know you're the prettiest girl I've seen in ages..."

But before I could brush him out I heard footsteps going down the stairs. Someone had been there. Someone must have gotten the wrong impression. I felt my heart race to the mere thought it could have been Daryl.