The Walking~ Walking Dead FF

Chapter Two: A Home

Cameron's POV

I wake up on something soft. I relax into it.

'What is this? A bed? I haven't slept in a bed for months.'

I open my eyes to see a middle-aged woman with short, greyish hair.

"Hello. My name's Carol. It's alright, your safe here. What's your name?"

I look at her suspiciously. You never know who you can trust these days. But... They did let me in here, they helped me from the walkers. And Carol has a kind look in her eyes, a motherly look.

"Cameron Blake."

She smiles. "That's a pretty name. How old are you?"

I prop myself up on my elbows. "Thirteen, or fourteen. I don't really know. My birthday is December 18, so I don't know if I'm still thirteen, or if I'm fourteen."

"You're still thirteen. It's November 30."

I give a faint smile. I don't know if I can fully trust these people yet, but I think I can open up to Carol.

"Do you have any family?" She asks me tenderly.

I wince. That's a touchy subject for me. "Dead." Is all I say.

She nods her head. "It's okay. I lost my daughter and husband too."

"I'm sorry."

I give her a better smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"How long have you been on your own?" She asks.

"I dunno, six or seven months? Ever since my family...well, you know."

"Do you want to stay here with us? Everyone's taken a liking to you."

'How? I've been sleeping.'

"Sure, why not. It's either that or being alone again."

She gives a relieved smile and relaxes in her chair, like a weight's been lifted off her shoulder.

"That's good. Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone."

She helps me out of bed and I slip on my dirty old converse. She walks me out of the cell we were in and into a larger opening, where there's a table I the middle and a couple shelves full of supplies. Everyone is sitting at the table eating some kind of soup.

Carol clears her throat. "Guys, this is Cameron. She's thirteen, fourteen in nineteen days. She's agreed to stay with us." Everyone gets up and crowds around me, wanting to introduce themselves.

A tall man with scruffy brown hair approaches me first.

"I'm Rick." He holds out his hand and I shake it.

A pretty teenager with long blond hair also holds out her hand to me. "I'm Beth." She has a slight country accent.

A woman with short brown hair comes up holding hands with a Korean man.

"I'm Glenn, this is Maggie, Beth's sister." I nod my head at them.

A boy about fourteen comes up. He has messy brown hair, blue eyes, and a sheriffs hat.

"I'm Carl." I just look at him. I don't like him. There's something off about him.

A man with scruffy brown hair and a crossbow introduces himself as Daryl, and then there's an old man named Hershel, Maggie and Beth's dad, two little girls Mika and Lizzie who are sisters, and a mish-mash of other people I forgot the names of.

Michone, Sasha, Bob, a baby named Judith and some more people.
Their faces blurred together, and instead of seeing individual colors, there's a mix of brown greens and greys.

I'm not alone anymore.

"Thank you for letting me stay with you."

Rick nods his head. "We just have three questions. How many walkers have you killed?"

"Too many to count." I reply.

"How many people have you killed?"

The question takes me aback, but I manage to ask truthfully.

"One."

"Why?" He asks me.

I shrug. "They asked me to." That's all the answer I was gonna give.

Rick walks up to me and shakes my hand.

"Okay, well Beth can show you to your cell. Thank you for being honest."

I give them all a faint smile and follow Beth down the large hall.
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"Okay, this is it. It's right next to mine," she points to the left wall, " and Carls." She points to the right wall.

"You get situated. I'll be back in five minutes so you can get a weapon."

She leaves the cell. I look around the dingy settings. There's a bunk-bed on the right wall, with a mirror on the wall across from the door. I look into it to see my ratty brown hair. I have some light red streaks in it, but it's natural. My blue eyes are grey now, they change according to the weather. It must be raining now.

I see a desk and chair on the left wall. It has some paper on it and all of my belongings I was carrying when I got here. I furrow through it to find my journal, a pen, some spare clothes, a sheet, white converse and a ponytail holder. They must've taken my food and weapons.

I go to the bottom bunk and pull off the sheet. I arrange it so it covers the cell door, so I have some privacy. I go over to the desk and turn on the lamp. It must be battery operated. It lightens up the dark room, making the threatening shadows disappear.

"Hey. Come on." I turn around to see a Beth holding up the sheets so I can go through.

She brings me to a shelf full of weapons.

"Choose any two."

I gaze over my options. There are guns, knives, daggers, swords (how did they get those?), bow and arrows, crossbows, machetes, katanas, and anything else imaginable.

I spot a long dagger, about thirteen inches long, in a long, sleek, black leather case. I pick up the gold hilt and pull it out of the dusty sheath. I gasp. It is gold like the hilt, but it has vines engraved on the sides, with a sickly sharp blade. It looks like it can cut through anything.

"This is one of them."

Beth smiles. "That's cool, it's pretty but deadly."

I also choose a bow and arrows. I was pretty good at that. My dad and older brother would always take me hunting with them, and while they used guns, i used a bow and arrows.

Beth takes me back over to my cell. "Hey, if you ever need to talk about something, I'm here. Okay?"

I smile at her. I think me and Beth are gonna be friends.

"Thanks Beth."

Oh what a crazy world we live in.