Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 16: New Faces

Aaron leads us through a typical suburban gated community. The houses are the kind I'd only see as I drove through rich neighbourhoods, but never dreamed I could afford. It looks like it's been nearly untouched by the apocalypse: everything is far too clean, and although I'm eager to see if this place could be home, my guard is up, strong as the walls we now find ourselves inside.

"Deanna will speak to Rick first," Aaron explains. "Then, if things go well with him, we'll start getting you settled, and Deanna will interview the rest of you, too."

He leads us to a house. I search for something that sets it apart from the others, but every house is nearly the same—colonial-style, painted in acceptable shades of grey, blue, and white, with large porches, cookie cutters all lined up in a neat row. This one, at least, seems like some kind of townhouse, with multiple floors, walls bumped up against each other.

We linger outside the house after Rick goes inside to speak with this Deanna person. As I sit on the front steps, looking around at everyone, I wonder if they're experiencing the same mixed emotions as me.

I wonder about the people of Alexandria, who they are and what they had to do to get their community to this point. Maybe I can ask Deanna about it, if and when I have my interview. Have they had their own Governors? Dealt with hordes? What have they done to survive?

Rick returns with a woman at his side who must be Deanna. She's a short woman with straight, greying, shoulder-length auburn hair who's probably nearing her sixties, and she smiles when she sees all of us. She carries herself with an air of confidence, someone who's comfortable being in front of strangers, in front of crowds.

"Hello. My name is Deanna Monroe. Welcome to Alexandria," she says, hands folded over her stomach, still smiling calmly. Even her words are calm, smooth. "Come. It's time to get you all settled."

She leads us to another building in the same stretch as her home, which we learn quickly is the pantry and armoury wrapped up in one. A heavyset woman with black hair tied in a sideways ponytail, glasses, and a skeptical look on her face waits for us with a rolling cart.

Deanna introduces her as Olivia, the inventory manager, and says that we'll need to hand over any guns we have on our person.

"They're still your guns. You can check them out whenever you go beyond the wall," Deanna explains. "But inside here, we store them for safety."

People come forward, dropping their rifles and pistols and handguns one by one. Daryl keeps his crossbow on his shoulder. We're allowed to keep our knives. As Carol approaches, she awkwardly maneuvers her assault rifle off her shoulder, putting on a show of struggling with the heavy firearm. She keeps smiling at Olivia in a shy, unassuming way.

Olivia doesn't look impressed. Her expression seems less skeptical now, more perturbed. She grips the rolling cart, now full of guns, and starts tugging it back to the building behind her.

"Should've brought another bin," she says, voice light with awkward amusement.

Carol grins at her, rolling a bit on her feet. I try not to stare at her too heavily. It's a little creepy to see her act so cheerful. I'm about to walk over and hand her an Oscar for her performance.

If I thought my guard was up high, hers is even higher.

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We're allotted two houses that sit right next to each other at the very end of town. One has three stories, judging by the small window in what must be an attic or a small bedroom at the height of the A-frame roof. The other is more modest, if these houses can be called that—only two floors. Both have sizeable porches.