Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 38: A New Ally

Rick gets me to bring my kit and follow him, Daryl, and Hershel to where the woman is waiting. She sits on one of our tables, a damp cloth pressed to her upper thigh.

"We can tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water, and then send you on your way," Rick says as we approach her. He keeps his hand on his pistol. "But you're gonna have to tell us how you found us and why you were carrying formula."

She stares at him, undeterred. "The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl," she says.

"What happened?"

"Were they attacked?" Hershel asks.

"They were taken," she says.

"Taken? By who?" Rick asks.

Her palm presses harder against her leg. "By the same son of a bitch who shot me."

"Hey, these are our people," Rick says, leaning closer to her. He starts reaching out. "You tell us what happened now!"

He grabs her leg, right on the wound, and she thrashes as she lets out a yell.

"Rick!" I shout, moving forward. "Stop!"

She pushes him away as she gets to her feet, seething. "Don't you ever touch me again!"

Daryl already has his crossbow raised, aimed at her, but I get between the men and her.

"You'd better start talking," Daryl snaps, still aiming the crossbow despite me being there. "Or you're gonna have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound."

"Daryl, drop it," I retort. I can hear the woman breathing heavily behind me and Daryl's eyes narrow. I look at Rick. "Don't touch her again. That's not how we do things."

Besides, she's our best chance at finding Glenn and Maggie, and I'll be damned if we miss that because they're getting all hot-blooded.

"Find 'em yourself," the woman says, and my heart sinks.

I look back at her and she's shaking, lip twitching a little, but her eyes dart to me. Daryl lowers his bow and she limps to the nearest railing, apparently determined to stay standing.

"You came here for a reason," Rick says.

She looks at each of us, lips pursing, and she exhales. "There's a town," she admits. "Woodbury. About 75 survivors. I think they were taken there."

"A whole town?" Rick repeats.

"It's run by this guy who calls himself the Governor—pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type."

"He got muscle?" Daryl asks.

She shrugs, barely. "Paramilitary wannabes. They have armed sentries on every wall."

"You know a way in?"

"The place is secure from walkers, but we could slip our way through."

We let the words sink in. I'm still tensed, ready to jump in if things escalate, but nobody moves. Rick finally looks back at Daryl, eyebrow raised, then his attention returns to her.

"How'd you know how to get here?" he asks.

"They mentioned a prison, said which direction it was in, that it was a straight shot," she says matter-of-factly.

Rick looks at her for a second more, then nods once. "This is Hershel, the father of the girl that was taken," he says, pointing to him, then his finger moves to me. "And she's Hope. They'll take care of that."

Rick gives Daryl a look and they leave without another word. Her shoulders sag once they've gone, face twitching for a second, and I move to her.

"Please, sit down," I say. "I bet that hurts. Believe me, I know."