We Are Risen

Chapter Three

Tobias's POV

I stood there wide-eyed and in shock as Daisy's dark blue, bloodshot eyes widened in shock and terror to find herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Daisy stumbled back in surprise and I stepped forward and put my arm around her chest, pushing her protectively behind me with Ally and Bryson. 

The entryway into the living room was dark, and I could see a tall, large figure standing in the doorway to the entryway. 

"Tobias?"

There's only one person on this earth that calls me Tobias.

"Dad?" I asked. 

The man stepped into the doorway, and the light from the window on the door lit up the face of my father, who was smiling broadly with tears twinkling in his eyes. Dad grabbed my shoulders in his large hands and pulled me into a warm embrace. I sighed, leaning into his touch and pulled my hands up to grip the back of his red flannel shirt. He clapped me roughly on the back, and his scratchy mustache and beard tickled my forehead when he leaned down and kissed it. 

"Boy, I thought you were dead for sure," he said in his thick Texan accent, gripping my shoulders. "When I saw on the News that your school got overrun, I didn't even know what to think."

"We managed to get out," I said, before gesturing behind me. "Thanks to Daisy."

Her eyes widened and her face flushed. My dad smiled apologetically.

"I'm mighty sorry for pointin' my gun atcha'," he told her sincerely. "I thought you were a looter or one of the dead. But you might want to wash that blood off your face, little lady, or someone might think you're one of the roamers."

Daisy looked down and started scrubbing at her face with the sleeve of her tattered hoodie. She looked up and flinched slightly as my dad held out his hand to her. 

"I'm Dirk, Tobias's father," he told her. 

Daisy slowly lifted her small, pale hand and shook my dad's hand. 

"I'm Daisy," she said in her timid voice. "But you can call me Dee if you want. And it's okay, I understand why you pointed it at me."

I looked back at my friends. "This is Allison, and you've met Bryson."

Bryson nodded grimly at my dad. 

"W-we call them biters," Daisy spoke up. 

"S'cuse me?" Dad asked.

"Biters," Daisy repeated. "The way that they attacked. . . Like wild animals. It seemed the most appropriate thing to call them."

Ally and Bryson went over to sit on the couch, and I took Daisy by the hand and led her into the kitchen. I put my hands around her small waist, frowning as I felt the way her hipbones jut out, and I lifted her onto the counter. When she tried to scrub the blood off her face, she had only succeeded in smearing it. 

"Stay there," I told her in a quiet voice. 

I leaned down and grabbed a dishrag out of a drawer, before I went over to the sink and turned the water on, waiting for it to warm up. I dampened the rag, and then I went back to Daisy. I tucked her bangs back behind her ear, only to gasp at the bruise that had formed around her left eye. 

"Daisy, what happened?" I asked her. 

"Nothing," she said, lowering her head. "Don't worry about it."

I didn't want to let it go, but I knew that she wasn't going to open up if I pried. Instead I just gently wiped the splattered blood off her face, and then I left the room and tossed the bloodstained rag into the washer. I went back into the kitchen, and Daisy was still sitting on the counter, staring at her hands.