Protector (TWD fanfiction)

Chapter 15

Sam is standing in the middle of the neighboring cellblock, where a ripped off piece of mattress cover lands in front of her boots.

All over the cellblock, there are cut up mattresses lining the floors with the stuffing ripped out.

Her eyes go from the fabric at her feet, up to the upper level where it fell from.

She lets out a puff of air and steps over the piece of fabric and climbs up the stairs.

She walks up to the cell that she was standing under just moments ago and halts.

"What are ya doin'?" She asks the bald man that is kneeling on the ground and cutting into the mattress like a mad man.

"Oh, hey kiddo. What can ol Merle do for ya?" Said man sits back on his heels with a heavy sigh and wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

"Why are ya cuttin' up all these mattresses?" She asks again.

"Why? So ya can run to Darlene and tattle on me?" Merle raises an eyebrow.

"So yer lookin' for drugs." Sam concludes.

"Ya lil punk know too much for ya own good, Someone ever tell ya that?" Mere stands up with a groan.

Sam shrugs and takes a step back from the entrance to make room for the older Dixon as he steps out of the cell.

He walks down to the next cell, Sam hot on his heels.

"Daryl told me to-" She begins but is cut off by the bored voice of Merle and his hand waving her off.

"Daryl needs to mind his fuckin' business and stop usin' ya like a lil spy." He says and throws the next mattress on the floor to cut it open too.

"Ya know, kid, It's not long 'fore these folks will throw our asses to the walkers to save theirs. Best to take what we can while we wait." He rambles.

"They not like that." Sam frowns.

"They sure were like that back in Atlanta, they be like that here. How do ya think I ended up on that rooftop?" Merle says as he proceeds to cut the second mattress of the cell.

"Man, glad I didn't serve my time here. These bastards didn't know what the fun stuff is." Merle cackles as he comes up empty yet again.

"Daryl-" Sam says but is cut off yet again but this time with more bite.

"If Daryl and ya would stop actin' like goddamn sheep, ya'd see these folks only need us for doin' the dirty work for em!" He snarls.

Sam frowns and turns away from the cell.

"Yer just mad Daryl got other people around now, yer just like dad. Fuckin' scared he'll smell ye're shit when he learns what decent folks are like and leave yer ass." She says and stalks off.

As she walks on the ruble of the prison yard she can make out the silhouette of Rick, Daryl and Hershel.

She forgets her foul mood and a small smile replaces her frown.

With a little jump in her step, she makes her way over to them.

When she is near enough to hear the words that they are exchanging, her smile drops, the greeting dies out on her tongue and her hand freezes on its way up for a wave.

"He said he wants Sam and Michonne. He will retreat without a fight, and they live on, we live on. It's the only way."
Rick says in a grave voice.

Sam hurries and ducks behind a wall, her back pressed to the bricks and eyes blown wide as she slides down and listens with her legs hugged to her chest. Her body breaks out in a cold sweat as Ricks words ring in her ear.