Hearth | The Walking Dead

𝐕. FOLLOW THE LEADER

CHAPTER FIVE

FOLLOW THE LEADER

THE BOY TOOK THEM INSIDE. Sydney knew it was a boy now because that's what Abraham had called him—"You don't want to do this, boy." The boy had put his finger on the trigger in response and only took it off when Abraham placed his gun on the floor and ordered Sydney to do the same with her knife. Then the boy patted Eugene down himself because even he couldn't believe someone was going around this world without a weapon and had survived so long.

He collected the two weapons and led them by gunpoint inside the building. His weapon was pointed at Abraham, but Sydney did not doubt that if she or Eugene made a wrong move, the boy would be quick enough to turn it on them before Abraham could stop him. If her dad thought following the rules was their best chance of survival, then she would do whatever the boy said.

Stepping into the building was a shock. The inside reflected a different world than the one outside—curtains were hung around the room, sectioning off spaces for privacy; a firepit sat in the middle of the room, giving off a warm light that gave the entire space warmth and Sydney the ability to see; the hallways that led to different parts of the building were boarded up and covered by curtains; dotted around the room were people, alive and well, some of them even laughing with each other.

An older woman glanced their way when the door closed behind them, cutting off the sound of rainfall. Her smile fell the moment she noticed there was more than one person, three of whom she didn't recognize. She whistled sharply, catching the attention of the others; Sydney counted seven people in total, including the boy behind them; the older woman, two women on the younger side, two older men, and a boy and a girl who looked to be around the same age as the teenager pointing a gun at Abraham's head.

One of the older men stood up; he practically towered over the old woman, but it was clear she was the leader. "Dirk?" he questioned. Sydney noted that he had a striking resemblance to the boy he was calling out to.

"They were talking about coming in. They should have just kept walking," the boy—Dirk—said. "I got their weapons."

"So why are you still pointing a gun at them?" the other boy asked, taking a step forward. Finally, someone with reason, Sydney thought.

"Shut it, Rex. They're a threat," Dirk said tersely.

"Maybe we should ask what they want instead of pointing guns," the old woman said. "There's a child there, Dirk. Did you stop to ask if they were survivors like us?"

"Come on, why else would they be sneaking around the woods if they weren't here to hurt us?" Dirk demanded.

"They might not have realized we were here," one of the men, who had hair longer than Sydney's pulled into a braid, rationalized.

"We didn't," Abraham jumped in, seizing his chance to speak. "I wouldn't put my kid in danger like that. We were just passing through. Just let us go, we'll be out of sight in minutes. We were just lookin' for a place to stay the night."

The old woman shared a look with one of the younger ones, having a silent conversation. After a moment, the older woman turned to look at the trio, her expression softening when she saw Sydney inching closer to her dad. She didn't comment on the movement, figuring it belonged to a scared child—and she would be right. "If you'd like to spend the night here, you may, but only if you leave your weapons in Rosita's hands," she offered, motioning to her friend. They both ignored Dirk's noise of protest.