The Walking Dead {Daryl Dixon}

S2Ch8 "A New Home"

"Stevens, prepare the infirmary"

'What're we dealing with?' Says a voice that sounds like it's coming from an intercom or a radio. Possibly female.

"Shock and slight dehydration. One of them seems to be sick or on the verge of recovering"

"Excuse me but where the hell are ya taking us and who were you talking to?"

I'm elbowed on the ribs. "Behave" Merle scolds me in a whispery tone. I groan, partly because of the hit and partly because I seriously don't like the way we're being treated. Makes me uneasy. No nice person on god's green Earth would blindfold someone if they were going to help them.

"That was Doctor Stevens. She's in charge of all medical support and attention of where we're going."

I think it's the leader talking, his distinctive voice is hard to forget. The tone and accent of his before darkness clouded my vision is hard to forget. It was condescending and annoying to listen to. The adrenaline that pumped through me as I felt hands grabbing me and pulling me against my will to an unknown location almost made me forget how sick and tired I felt.

"Right... and that place would be...?"

The man chuckles, "You're a feisty one ain't ya."

The man glanced at the two blindfolded strangers through the rear mirror before looking back to the road.

"Anyway, no need to worry we'll be there shortly"

"Where? Where we'll we be shortly? Why won't you tell us?" I press on, trying my best to not sound too accusing. I clear my throat in an attempt to scratch the soreness away. This is way too sketchy for my liking. I'm squinting my eyes at whoever abducted us from behind the blind, which doesn't help the headache I still have from whatever bug I caught.

"Home"

I narrow my eyes at him, frowning. 'Home? We'll see about that', I think to myself. The response he gets from me is a sniff and silence.

-

"Why are we being held here?" I say after these complete strangers gave me drugs and a bunch of stuff to recover. Now that my head isn't pounding and my eyes don't feel like they're burning, it makes it easier to focus on what is happening. I don't wanna be an ingrate or anything but what kind of 'savior' blinds people and drags them somewhere else? Nope. Nah-huh. Me no trust. Fijo están locos o son caníbales o... matan güilas... no sé, pero algo raro deben de tener.

"You're not well enough. And it's dark. You should stay the night" the woman doctor says.

I squint my eyes at her. "Where are we?"

"That's not for me to say", she whispers after glancing behind her as if to make sure no one was there listening. "He'll talk to you"

He? Oh, the suspicion grows. "Who?"

Her silence makes me more uneasy and suspicious the more tics I hear from the clock wall in the room. It is a little distracting how such an inconspicuous sound can be so damn annoying after spending months trusting the safety of silence.

In the meantime, Merle becomes background noise with every attempt he makes at talking to the doc. I ignore their chatter to walk around the room, checking it out for weapons, info on the place, or anything useful.

"Miss, are you sure you feel alright?"

"Uh?" It takes a moment for my brain to catch up to what she said, but when I do I turn back around to face her, "Y-yeah... It's fine. I'm fine"