Little Dixon (Daryl Dixon)

Tracing The Scars

(( Daryl's POV ))

Rick and I were out scouting the area around the prison. We never had the chance to until then, and I guess it was pretty important to know the surroundings.

As the sun began to set, we began to head back. When we were nearing the prison, a bunch of screams caught my attention. I glanced at Rick, who looked at me with thoughtful eyes.

"Come on," he said quietly. He began to lead the way through the undergrowth, towards the screams. We finally saw a small clearing through the trees with a log cabin in the middle of it. There was a group of 5 people, trying to fight off the walkers that were surrounding them.

"We have to help them,"Rick whispered. I nodded in agreement and grabbed my shotgun. Rick grabbed his python and took the first shot, killing a walker as it almost sank it's teeth into a man's neck. I began to shook the walkers, making the corpses fall to the ground.

Eventually, all the walkers were dead, and the small group was safe. I turned to leave, but Rick stopped me.

"What?" I question. "It's gettin' dark, we should head back."

"Wait a second," Rick growled. I rolled my eyes and shifted my wait onto one side, leaning against a tree. Rick walked over to the new people, who were murmuring amongst themselves.

"Thank you for saving us," One man said, shaking Rick's hand. His was beginning to bald, the only brown hair he had left was thinning.

"Well, we couldn't leave ya to die," I retorted, walking up to them.

"What happened?" Rick asked, giving me a warning glance. I scoffed and focused on the strange people. There were 3 men and 2 women, and they seemed starving.

"We lost our camp not long ago," The first man explained. "We thought about holding up here for a while, but I guess noise attracts the stumblers."

So these people called walkers "stumblers"? Interesting.

"Do you happen to have a group around here?" A woman asked politely. "If so, could we possibly join?"

Rick glanced at me, wanting my opinion.

"First, we'll have to ask ya some questions," I said. My gaze drifted from Rick to the newcomers, who nodded eagerly.

"What are yer names?" I asked first.

The balding man spoke first, "James." He said. He looked to be in his late 40s.

Next, the younger looking man, who looked around 30 or so, spoke. "Sam." He had long, dark blonde hair and was very tall.

The 3rd man, looking to be in his early twenties said, "Brandon." He had long, black hair and was very tan skinned. He had a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder. I didn't like the looks of that guy.

Next, the oldest looking woman stepped up. She had graying blonde hair, "Mary." She said sweetly.

The final person, a middle-aged woman with light brown hair, stepped up. "Cathy," She said shyly.

I nodded, "How many walkers have ya killed?"

"A lot," James answered. "I don't know exactly." The rest of the group nodded in agreement.

"How many people have you killed?" Rick questioned, eyeing each of the group carefully.

"Two," James answered. Sam nodded in agreement and Brandon said, "Three."

Mary killed one while Cathy killed none.

"Why?" I finally asked.

"They were threatening to take my wife away," James said, glancing at Mary.