Runaway. - TWD fanfic

˙˚∘𓉸⊹ Chapter One. ⊹𓉸∘˚˙

OLIVER SMITH. September 9th, 2014. Friday morning. Early morning.

Oliver Smith, a fourteen year old boy with long blonde hair. It was a mullet and a shag combined, it was messy and some strands of hair were trying to curl back up. Some were as straight as a line while there were still some that were just wavy. All of it was pulled back by an orange ribbon. On a run some time ago there was an old doll with its hair tied up with a pretty orange bow. He liked the ribbon so he took it. Wore it whenever his father wasn't around to complain about it.

His plain green shirt had some grass and dirt smudges on them from walking for hours, his black straight legged jeans had a tear on his knee and one on his left side of his thigh. His black leather jacket felt a little heavy and he could feel the rocks beneath his yellow converse. They just pushed into his feet with every step. It was aggravating.

" Who are you? " He heard a voice in the trees say. He jumped a little, taking his hatchet from its holster and keeping a grip on it.

" Drop it. That won't do you any good. Now drop it. " The voice said, seemingly annoyed.

" Or else? " Oliver scoffed as he circled around.

" Or else I shoot. " The voice said, Oliver froze for a second and asked: " Am I supposed to believe that?"

PEW - That shot rang through the air. The bullet hitting a rock and bouncing over, in front of Oliver.

" Huh " Oliver muttered as he shrugged with a head tilt before he crouched down to put his hatchet on the ground carefully.
" So what are you? The lorax? " Oliver said a little nervously, still slowly moving in a circular motion to try and get a glimpse of who was there.

" Who are you? " The voice asked again. Oliver scoffed and shook his head.

" You first. " He said as he tilted his head and froze, a shadow, a cowboy hat? " Carl? Carl Grimes? Survivor group?" He began questioning.

" How do you know that? " Carl asked as he circled around this blonde person. " Who the hell are you?"

" I think it's better if you don't know. Listen, I'm trying to help you and your people. " Oliver said as he turned around and started spinning in a slow circle once again.

" Bullshit. " Carl said as he ran in front of the person and hit him in the head with the handle of his knife.

Everything went black.

" He's awake. " Oliver heard a voice say. He looked around and up, trying to get his vision corrected and for the blurriness to go away.

" What the hell?.." Oliver started to say as his vision was corrected. He was in a cell, he looked back up and his hands were tied above his head. " Well this is uncomfortable. " He said as he tried to discreetly untie the rope. Which was kinda, very hard to do in his position. It didn't help only his toes and the front palm of his shoe were able to touch the ground.

" Who are you? Are you one of Negan's spies? Did he send you? " Mr Rick... Well at least I made it to Alexandria. Oliver thought, trying to make light of the situation.

" First of all, if I was a spy I wouldn't say I'm a spy. That's common fucking knowledge. " Oliver stated.

" I'm Rick Grimes, Carl said you knew him. And our group? How? Have you been spying on us? For how long?" Mr Rick interrogated.

Oliver shook his head and started to say " I'm here to help" . He said as he scanned the room once more, Carl was wearing a gray flannel, black shirt, blue jeans and brown boots. There was another boy there that was wearing gray jeans, dark blue shirt and this tannish brown flannel with gray converse. Michonne was in a corner holding her katana, she wore a purple shirt, black jeans, and black boots with a purple bandana wrapped around her head. Uncle Daryl was there, he had on a black shirt, black jeans, black shoes, and a black leather jacket type thing on.