Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

f o u r

"You can stay in here for now." Rick said, releasing Presley's arm and pointing to a cell. "Hold still and I'll take those cuffs off." He released her from the iron grip of the cuffs and shut the door behind her, leaving the area automatically. There was a small bunk bed in the corner, as well as a stool and a sink. Likely out of order. There was also a barred window, unfortunately too small for her to squeeze through.

She sighed, sitting down on the bed and leaning against the lumpy pillow. She longed to have the dog at her side, but she didn't want the poor thing to risk being shot. Her protective attitude sometimes caused more trouble than it did good.

"Here." A soft voice said. Presley propped herself up to see a small woman with short gray hair and soft eyes. She held a small tray of food and a book. "You must be hungry, and I know you'll get bored." She offered a smile. "It's a personal favorite of mine."

I stood and accepted the gifts. "Thank you, Ms...?"

"Carol. Just Carol." She said. She kept her distance from the bars, as if making sure Presley wouldn't lunge for her throat.

"Presley." She said as she turned, shuffling back to the bed. "Thank you."

On cue, the elder woman left, leaving Presley all alone once again.

-

"Get up." Presley rolled over and groaned, rubbing her eyes as she forced herself to her feet. She would give anything just to be sleeping in her own Jeep.

She shuffled forward just as Rick entered her cell. Metal cuffs shown in his right hand. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to her feet, latching her hands together in front of her. He pulled her by the arm and led her to another room, giving her a chance to look at some more people. Their group was massive.

"Sit." He ordered and pushed her down into a metal chair. She shifted uncomfortably, staring forward at the three men in front of her. The man with the Snow White beard, Rick, and Daryl.

"What's your full name."

"Presley Scott." She said, leaning back against the chair and placing her feet up on the desk. They frowned, but said nothing.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

They continued asking her general questions, like where she was from and why she had camped out around there.

"Do you have anything to do with the Governor?"

"I met him once. Asked me to follow him, whining about how he had went from a leader to a loner. All he did was whine for the ten minutes that I knew him." She chuckled. "I gave him a can of Lima beans and that sure stopped his rambling."

"Any further interactions?"

"Nope." She popped. "This was a few weeks ago, when I first started camping up here. He kept on hikin' the other direction. Haven't seen nor heard of him, until now."

The men looked between each other, obviously torn by the situation. "What happened to your wrist?" The oldest man asked suddenly. "Is that a scratch?"

"Hm? Oh, no it's not. Skins not broken." She said, raising her cuffed hands to show them. "You can ask your dear friend Daryl how that happened."

Daryl frowned, feeling regret that he had done that to a woman, but he didn't let the sadness reach his eyes. She'd attacked him first, after all. 

Hershal and Rick glanced at each other. Sighing, he pulled out a key and unlocked her from the cuffs. She sighed with relief and flexed her hands.

"What? So we're just going to let 'er go?" Daryl said, eyes wide. "She's dangerous! Nevermind everything she just told us sounds like a hunk of bullshit."

Rick glanced at Daryl. "She's a young girl, Daryl."

"Makes her all the more dangerous." He muttered, looking at her with dark eyes. Presley frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Get over it. It's not like you want to have kids at this sort of time in life." She said. The comment caused Daryl's face to flush with anger. 

"I thought you wanted her gone?" Hershal now chose to intervene.

"Not anymore. I don't need her jumpin' my ass in the woods again."

"What are we supposed to do, Daryl?" Rick questioned. "Tie her up in a cell?"

Daryl sighed, moving towards the exit. "Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want. But I'm not saving her next target." He slammed the door shut.

"Well, sweetheart, you are free to go." Hershal said, limping towards the door slowly. He held it open and motioned for her to exit.

Presley followed the man with no hesitation. Wide eyes turned and looked at her as she walked through the place, moving quickly towards the exit.

"Wait." A soft voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned when she saw Carol, looking at her with a timid look. Rick looked at the woman with question. "I saw a bow in your Jeep... Can you shoot?"

Presley smiled radiantly, "Yes."

"Rick, we need more people." Carol said, causing the man to frown. "We have the older people and the children to take care of. She's obviously not helpless... We could use her!"

"She would just be another mouth to feed, Carol." He muttered.

"It's not like we can't spare it. I mean, you just brought back those pigs. If we do it right, we can make a whole pig farm to survive on." Carol pointed out. "She can make her cut."

"Excuse me." I coughed. "I am right here, you know... And I would just like to point out that I am not looking for joining a group... Thank you for the offer, Carol."

"But..." Before she could continue, Presley turned and continued towards the exit. The sunlight burned her eyes, temporarily blinding her as she shuffled across the yard to her jeep. She whistled, and a black blur launched itself from the Jeep and propelled itself to the girl. She laughed as she knelt down, nearly being knocked over from the dog.

"Hey Zeva girl." She laughed, standing.

"You have a dog?" A meek feminine voice questioned. Presley turned, looking to see two young girls.

"Yes, I do." They shuffled forward eagerly, sticking their hands out for the dog to sniff. Zeva inhaled, wagging her tail excitedly at the new friends she thought she had just made.

"You can let her if you'd like. Her name is Zeva." Presley said, crouching as the girls wrapped their tiny hands around Zeva's silky fur.

"What is she?" One of the girls questioned.

"A mutt. I got her from a shelter as a young dog."

"Cool." One of them breathed.

-

Daryl watched the girl from his perch. She was talking to the younger girls, and he had a sniper aimed for her head. She didn't even touch the girls, though. Simply talked to them and allowed them to pet the mutt.

She was strange. She moved into situations with no hesitation, and Daryl had a feeling that would be her downfall... Just as it would be his own. He had nothing to loose and neither did she. That made them alike, in a way.

The girls threw a stick and the dog bolted to retrieve it. Presley sat back, leaning against the Jeep. He could almost picture her sly smirk.

Finally, the girls gave the dog a hug, before watching as the dog lept gracefully into the Jeep. Presley soon followed, seating herself in the drivers side. The gate watchers pulled the gate open and the Jeep shot out of the prison.

Little did they no that this wouldn't be the last time they saw Zeva and Presley.