Fighting for my Life

Chapter Two

I didn't have to wait very long. Maybe five minutes at the most. When they finally came into my sight, I hear the first one say

"It's a girl." It takes everything I have to hold my tongue and not say something like 'No freaking way, genius!' But I don't because I know that if I do, there's no chance of me getting into their group, and I need to get into that group. I can't stand the silence anymore. Take it from me, being alone sucks.

The first man is - as I predicted - my age. He is wearing a black vest and carries a crossbow, similar to mine. The second one is a little bit younger, has dark hair, and carries a gun. They both slow to a stop a few feet in front of me.

"Hand over yer weapons." Orders the one with a crossbow. I calmly give him my crossbow, backpack, and even my knife from my left boot. The younger one raises his eyebrows and nods at the other man. He nods back, so slight I almost miss it. The younger one steps forward and holds out his hand. I can't help but flinch. The men exchange looks of what I think is concern before I grasp it and he helps me up.

"Glenn," He tells me. "And this here is Daryl." I just nod in return.

" I'm Delilah." I'm surprised that I could say it without my voice shaking.

"Do ye have a group?" Asks Daryl. I shake my head.

"Been alone for almost eight months now."

"Before that?" He asks. Its such an innocent question, but I don't want to answer it. Don't want to be reminded. I know I have to do it anyway, though.

"My sister. She..."

"You don't have to explain." Glenn tells me kindly. I nod again. Daryl clears his throat.

"Do ye want to come back with us?" He asks. Then, seeing the fear in my eyes, he quickly adds

"We have women, children, food, shelter. Ye will be safe." Safe... What a word. I want so badly to believe him. So, foolishly, I nod my head.

"Ye will have to answer a few questions first" I nod yet again.

"How many walkers have ye killed?" Walkers. What a funny thing to call them. Infected makes much more sense to me.

"To many to count" I tell him. As I answer, I find myself unconsciously find myself rubbing my thumb across the scars on my wrist.

"How many people have ye killed?" Asks Daryl. I cringe at the memory and look to Glenn for guidance. He just smiled.

"One."

"Why?"

"Because he beat me until I was ready to die and then some." I answer honestly.

"Do, uh, do you know his name?" Glenn asks me.

"Yes. Some guy named Martinez who worked for someone named... named." I stop. I can't say it. Luckily Daryl seems to read my mind.

"The Governor." It's not a question. He knows. I look up at them and nod slowly.

"Yes. That's the one. You know him?" I ask.

"Yep that son of a bitch killed some of our own."

Daryl tells me. Then Glenn steps forward.

"It's not safe for you out here. You're coming back with us." Daryl nods at his partner and tosses me my bag, knife and crossbow. I tuck my knife into my left boot and follow the men. To my new home.