I'm really scared. I don't know where I am. If this is some kind of sick joke, it's not funny. Not at all.
It even looks like I'm not even close to where I live. I'm in a fucking forest! Not in the city!
The wound in my side is starting to ace real bad, but I'm starting to remember more words, and what things are called and how you do things. Yeah, things. Maybe my brain can tell me how I got these wounds and tell me what the fuck I need to do.
I think I'm crying again. I'm not sure. The pain is effecting my nerves. But I do feel this huge lump in my throat, so I guess I'm crying again.
There were some strange men at the door. They looked similar to the one that grabbed me. The one from the lake. Yes! I know what it's called again! The man from the lake, it looked like he wasn't a man. And these people that slammed their fists on the wood didn't look like normal people too. I didn't know what to do. I eventually locked myself in a closet, and just stayed silent, hoping they would go away. They did, eventually. I think I fell asleep for a moment, because when I woke up, it was a little later on the day, and they were nowhere to be seen or heard.
I think it's about the middle of the day now, and there is still no way I'm going out. I just stay here for a while, till my brain tells me what to do.
I think I can help my idiotic brain. I found something, some small plastic sack. It has this white powder in it, and I think I know what it is.
I know how to use it. I learned it, from a friend, at a party. You just need something like a credit card, or a knife, to make lines, and then sniff them in.
I also know what it does to me. It makes me feel very happy, energetic, like I want to jump around the world, and I laugh about everything. It was at that same party that I kissed four different boys…
Why do I remember this stupid shit, and not how I woke up in the middle of nowhere?!
This shit, this is the best thing evaaaaaa! I feel really happy right now!
I feel really dizzy. I think I should stop for now, so I can spare something for later.
I don't feel good. I think I need to lay do….
"Hey, bro, I think I got somethin'!" I shout over my shoulder. Baby brother comes running towards me, jumping over branches and everything, like frickin' Indiana Jones, but then the crossbow-version of him.
"Whattah yah got?" he asks. I point down, as if it's not obvious at all. He follows my arm, and then looks at me. "Yah think…"
I nod my head. "Yep. She fell down there, bro. See the blood?"
Daryl follows the trail of blood we had followed till the point where we stood at the edge of a cliff. The trail ends here, and the drops of red continue at the banks of a lake. I suddenly notice a dead walker, his face probably kicked in with a boot. I let out a chuckle and point at the corpse.
"Woul'yah look at that? Lil' bitch knows how to work 'm!"
Daryl doesn't respond to me, but stares at the corpse. He then walks away from me, towards the left.
"Hey, man, where yah goin'?" I say to him. He only moves his head slightly over his shoulder, so I can barely understand his mumbling.
"Gonna check down there, see where the trail leads to."
I shrug. "Kay, good point."
I walk after him, still looking at the corpse laying half ashore, with the under half still in the water. It seems like there has been some hell of a fight down there. Stupid kid didn't bring any weapons.
Daryl kneels down next to the corpse. He grabs his knife, and pokes in the smashed eye.
"Dude, if you wanna play, I'll just find you som' dolls" I snort. But he ignores me, again. He's now focused on the red spots in the mud, obviously fresh blood, so she must've been here not long ago.
"Hey, man, yah don' mind me askin' you somethin', eh?" I say, trying to finally get in a conversation with a person who's been acting like I'm some pile of shit following him around.
"Whattup?" he says, dipping his finger in the blood, and rubbing it between his fingers. I lean against a tree with my good arm, and scratch some mud from my bladed arm.
"Why am I here? I mean, it's not like yah need me or anythin'."
Daryl stands up, and follows the blood trail with his eyes. I just hope he's half woman, like I always expected, and can do his stuff and listen at the same time. Multitasking, people.
"Your buddy Rick doesn't trust me" I continue. "I get that. He ain't leavin' me alone for a second. Why does he think I can help you with anythin'?"
Daryl walks away, following the red drops on the ground. I sigh, but then follow him. After a while, he stops.
"Has it ever occurred to yah" he says. Finally, he can talk! "that yah might need to apologize to Glenn? Maggie, perhaps? That maybe you should stop being such a dick, and grow up for once? Quit the drugs, and start a life?"
He says it all without looking at him. I'm stunned, even though I don't like admitting it. But I am. What the hell? He never said anything like that before…
"How did yah know 'bout the drugs?" I ask him. Daryl starts walking again.
"I can see it from a mile distance, and I know when you're gettin' cocky, you're definitely using."
Even though I'm really burned my baby bro, I grin. "True story."
We walk for a while, but then Daryl suddenly stops. I almost bump into him. He kneels down, and starts crawling towards some bushes. He nods at me to follow.
"What?" I ask. He points at something between the trees. I narrow my eyes, and can barely distinguish a small cottage. Probably some hunter, or maybe a forester.
I lift my eyebrows. Daryl points again.
I want to punch him for telling me what to do, but then I notice the smudge of blood on the sides of the cottage. There even on the door. They have the forms of hands, as if the person that found this place could barely walk.
"Yah think she in there?" I ask. Daryl shrugs.
"Dunno. Gotta check."
Before any further consultation, he stands up and runs towards the cottage. I sigh, and go after him.
He has put his back against the wall next to the door, and holds up his crossbow. With one hand on the doorknob, he eyes me. Without making a sound, he counts to three.
I hold up my epic knife arm, and wait for the one. Daryl then turns the doorknob, and wants to push the door open. But it doesn't. It doesn't even move. It only makes a soft clicking sound of the lock turning, but the door's not opening. Something from the other side is blocking it.
"What the hell…" Daryl mumbles. I chuckle.
"Need som' help?"
I walk over to the door, and start pushing against it with my shoulder. Daryl takes a few steps back, and looks over the small cottage.
"Hey, I'm no frickin' Hulk! Get your ass over here an' help me!" I say, feeling a little movement behind the door, but there is still not enough room to squeeze through.
Daryl puts down his crossbow, and puts his shoulder against the door too. Together, we try to push whatever is blocking the door away, and we manage to make a gap where even Rick's pregnant woman can fit in. Sorry, bad joke.
I take a step back, and hold up my arm. "After you."
Daryl lifts an eyebrow. "What? Yah scared?"
I shake my head, an mumble some words ma used when she was out of wine again, and walk into the cottage, holding my knife in front of me. I take a quick look around.
"Holy shiiiiit…" I say. I hear Daryl move towards the gap.
"What? What is it?"
"Nuthin', it's clear," I say, pointing out that there is no living or undead thing in here "but I think we got a real problem now."
We've been driving for some time now. I've been in some pretty awkward situations, but sitting for one and a half hour in a car next to the kid that shot my best friend, who seemed to have used me, is the top on my list.
I'm glad when Rick tells Michonne to park the car near the King County Police Department. It feels good to finally stretch my legs, and I try to stay as far away from Carl as possible.
I look around. It's been some time since I last saw the place I grew up in. There you have the liquor store, and not very far from it the bar. There's also a bakery, and a bookstore. It feels really weird to see this place in such weird conditions. There are papers everywhere, plastics and other material that managed to survive this long. All laying on the streets. It seems like this neighbourhood is some kind of ghetto, instead of a small town, where almost everybody knew each other.
Rick goes into the police department, his gun ready. Michonne follows him, then Carl, and then me. Rick immediately swears.
"Shit!" and he kicks against the empty stalls, where there must've been a hell lot of guns and ammo. I sigh. This is the first place we've checked. No luck.
"There are other places to check" Rick says, more to himself than to us. Michonne kneels down, and pick something up. It's a small bullet. With my professional point of view (not) I say it's for a rifle. It's a large one, with a pointy end.
"There's the bar, and the liquor store" Rick continues. "They had guns."
I lift my eyebrows. "They did?"
Rick nods. "Yeah, nobody knew, but I did. I signed the permits. They might still be there."
Michonne slightly glances at him, but Rick doesn't like that very much. His face gets a dark expression.
"You got a problem with that approach?"
Michonne has a neutral, but amused expression on her face. "Do look like I got a problem?"
Calmly, she hands him the bullet. Rick looks at the thing between her dark skinned fingers. He slowly takes it from her, and puts I in one of his pockets.
A few moments later, we are walking towards the centre of the town, where all the stores are lined up in one street. Basically, we can go from one to another, working our way to the end. I hope we have any luck.
We cross a fallen building, where nature seems to have taken over. There's some sort of field inside the remains. I don't see anything special at it at first, but when Rick turns his head, and gets a little pale, I dare to look too.
"O god…" I say, and quickly turn away. There's a pile of corpses, burned to ashes, probably walkers.
I bend over to throw up, but I haven't eaten today, so all that comes out is some dirty slime.
"Not a strong stomach, huh?" Michonne says, while she pats me on my back. I cough again. Rick hands me a handkerchief.
"Thanks" I say as I take it. I wipe the slime from the corners of my mouth, and stand up. "Who does this?"
"I think I know who" Rick says, staring at the pile. I don't dare to turn around again, but still understand what he's saying.
"You think she did this?"
Rick gives a quick look at Carl, who is very pale, and big eyes at the moment. "I don't know. Could be."
Rick gives one last look at the pile, before walking further down the road. "Come on, let's get a move on."
We follow him, till we walk around a corner, and we all stop. I blink with my eyes, hoping that all I'm seeing is just my imagination again.
"Sick…." I gasp. It's real. At first sight, there's nothing wrong with this street. There are cars, some barrels, and some wooden planks tied to poles. A normal sight for times like this. The weird part is, that all of these things are full of spears. Wooden, sharp spears. In all of them, even the cars. I also see some sharp wires, where you could easily lose a limp from.
I grab some of my dark hair between my fingers, hoping I'm just dreaming. But it's real. Now, Vicky has gone crazy for real.
Rick is the first one to move. "C'mon, we gotta go. Just walk through it, look out for the sharp ends. There are a rifle and two handguns we gotta catch. Keep your eyes open."
He already walks towards the first of the spears, bowing his head to avoid the pointy ends. Carl follows him, but Michonne and me both hesitate. Michonne looks at me, with lifted eyebrows.
"I just don't think it's safe to go through it" I stutter. I feel nervous with those dark eyes focused on me. "She's the kind of person to make booby-traps."
"What if it's not her?"
I widen my eyes. Why would she think that.
"I mean," she continues, "why would she go here? To this particular town? It could be some other crazy bastard."
I open my mouth to say that she is wrong, but then close it. What she says, actually makes sense. What if it's not her?
Michonne sighs, and then puts her hand in my neck. She squeezes my skin between her fingers, and drags me into the dangerous path full of spears.
"Aw, aw, aw, aw" I say, stumbling on my feet.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you" Michonne says, and I hear from her voice that she's grinning.
"Ok, I'll go! Just let me walk by myself!" I beg her. She finally lets go.
"As you wish."
I rub over the sour skin of my neck, and look angrily at Michonne, who seems to find it all very funny.
Suddenly, Carl pulls his dad by his arm, and points in my direction. I immediately think I did something wrong, but then I see Rick looking at something behind me.
I turn around, to see a walker approaching the speared decorations. Michonne wants to walk over to it, but Rick stops her.
"No, it will get stuck."
We all watch the walker carefully, getting closer towards one of the spears. It's about to walk onto it, when there is a sudden loud gunshot, and it falls on the ground, with a bullet through its skull.
I immediately kneel down, and look around where it came from. I hope to see a red haired girl somewhere on the tops of the houses. With a gun.
But what I hear is loud mumbling, from a man. I look up to see indeed a man, with a helmet and a rifle pointed at us. I feel a little disappointment. So it wasn't Vicky after all.
Rick quickly discusses a plan with Michonne and Carl, while I'm still on my knees.
"We need that rifle!" Michonne hisses at Rick. "I can get up there."
"I count to ten!" the man on the roof says. "If you haven't dropped your guns, I will shoot you!"
"Carl, run for the car!" Rick says to his son. He looks around, searching for me, while the man on the roof is counting down. "Daniel! Go back to the car! We'll meet you there!"
Rick looks at Michonne. "Do it! Now!"
He then shoots with his gun at the man, and there are a lot of things going on real fast. Carl runs away, practically leaving me for dead. I try to find shelter behind one of the cars, looking for a way out. I put my hands over my ears, protecting them from the loud gunshots.
I make myself very small, hoping the bullets don't hit me. And at the same time, I hope they do. I hate myself. This is why. I keep hiding from these things. I'm too scared to take risks. I'm a pussy, a no one, a loner. I don't know why I've been alive for so long in this godforsaken world, but I am. But there's nothing left for me here.
I lost my parents, my best friend. Whom I really like as more as a friend. I got nothing.
Wait, you do, idiot! You have an eight-year-old to take care of! Think about Vinnie! You selfish prick!
The shooting suddenly stopped. I remove my hands from my ears, and dare to sit up a little, to look through the smashed car windows. Rick looks around too, and that can't be good.
Michonne is on top of the building where the man just was, but looks questionably at Rick.
Out of nowhere, the man comes walking from an alley, pointing his gun at Rick. But before he can pull the trigger, he's being shot by someone else.
Carl suddenly appears. The man falls on the ground. That's person number two he has shot today. Great work, Carl.
I hear voices. Again. Man, I'm really going crazy. I thought I didn't take another line. After the four…or maybe five…I don't know.
Well, that sure tells me my brain is still a fucking mess.
Again, I wake up in the forest. But this time, I can see clearly, and hear, smell, whatever I could do before, I can do it now. Which means that the voices I'm hearing, are real.
I stand up, wiping the dirt of my clothes. I try to make my hair look less messy, so those people don't freak out. They might already think I'm crazy if I tell them that I don't know how I got here, which year it is and where I am. Don't need to make it any worse for myself.
I approach the place where I think the people are. I can see two cars in the middle of a field, a glade or something. Hey, a new word I remember!
These people look strange. I'm starting to doubt my decision of asking for help. They're all carrying guns, huge ass guns, and all look very angry. The most scary guy, must be the one who's wearing the eye patch. Seriously, dude, that's só 2006!
He looks like he's in his forties, and he seems to have the lead in whatever they're doing here. He doesn't seem so bad. He actually looks like a normal man, if you would think away the eye patch. It wouldn't surprise me if he has a wife, or maybe even children.
"So, what do I do?" I whisper to myself. I know that it probably won't be long before I black out again. I don't know how much blood I've lost in the last hours, but I'm feeling very dizzy, so I don't think that's a good thing. And now I'm not even talking about the pain, which is the worst I've had since…I don't even know. Memory loss, remember? Wow, how ironic.
I wonder what they are. Maybe some kind of gangsters or something. Then I remember the weird guy from the lake, and the creepy people around the cottage. Maybe these guys with guns are the good guys. Like they're here to clean the mess up or something. Like in the movies.
I stand up, and decide that I just have to do it, before I change my mind again. I step between the bushes, onto the field. Immediately, all the guns are pointed at me. I hold up my arms in the air.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"On your knees!" one of the man shouts, and I blink with my eyes. I absolutely regret this decision. The huge gun is pointed at my head, and I feel really scared for a moment.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to ask what this place is called!" I yelp with a small voice. More men are surrounding me. One of them chuckles amused.
"Still thinks she can trick us, doesn't she?"
I lift my eyebrows. "Wait, you know me? Can you tell me how I got here?"
"What?" asks the same guy. He's a little tanned, and big brown eyes, which don't make him look very smart.
"If you know who I am, you probably know how I got here, and why. What's the name of this place anyway?"
Suddenly, the man with the eye patch steps away from the cars. He approaches me, and stands still just in front of me, so I need to look up to face him.
"Can you please help me?" I beg him. He has no emotion on his face, I don't know what he's thinking. Keeping my head up makes me feel dizzy, and I feel like blacking out any minute now.
I blink with my eyes, trying to keep my balance.
"Do you know who I am?" the man asks. I shake my head.
"No, sir. I just woke up a couple of hours ago, in the middle of nowhere. Can you please tell me where I am?"
The man doesn't show any emotion, but looks at his Latino-friend. The guy shrugs as if he has no idea.
"What? What is it?" I ask, and try not to throw up. The man kneels down in front of me, so that our faces are at the same height. He looks with his one good eye into mine, and narrows it.
"You really don't know, do you?" he asks softly, and his scary low voices gives me the shivers.
"No, sir" I say. Then, everything turns black.
I stand up, looking down at the body of the teenager. I give a slight look in Martinez' direction. He has widened eyes, looking at the passed out girl on the ground.
"You believe her?" I ask him. He looks at me, and shakes his head.
"No, man. Too good to be true."
I kneel down again, and grab the girl's pulse. Her heartbeat is firmly, but the wounds on her head and side tell me that she won't hold it out for long.
"What do we do with her?" I ask, practically to everyone here. "Any suggestions?"
"Bullet through the head" the first one shouts. I turn my head slightly. Not original enough.
"Chop her head off, and throw it to those motherfuckers in that prison!" another says. I lift my eyebrows. Not a bad idea.
"Torture her, and try to get to know more about those bastards!" another idiot tries. I shrug. I could do something like that. Suddenly, a plan begins to form in my head. I quickly search the girl's body, for any hidden weapons, but find none. Maybe the story about her losing her memory is true. I can make use of that.
Someone behind me softly clears his throat. "Sir?"
I turn around to the nervous voice. Milton nervously moves his fingers in his hands.
"I think I can confirm the memory loss" he says with a small voice. "I mean, a head fracture could cause her brain to go in shock, which affects the places where memories are kept, and-"
"OK, we get it, smartass!" one of the men says, while the others laugh. I only have to turn around to make them stop. I look at each one of them, and they all look away.
I snap with my fingers. "Go on."
Milton kneels down by the girl, and carefully investigates the wound on her head. He searches through his bag, and grabs something that looks like small scissors. He keeps looking at the wound, now poking with the scissors in it. A few of the men look away, disgusted.
"And?" I ask after a while. Milton looks up, and nods.
"She's telling the truth. She did lose her memory."