Starting Over...

I gulped as I stood under the man's cold, heavy gaze.

"You best gimme that knife ya got there," Mr. Redneck calmly commanded, not taking his ice blue eyes off me for a second, "If ya don't wanna get hurt."

I narrowed my eyes at the man. Hand over my knife? Hell no. I didn't just give up and hand my shit over to strangers when they thought they had me beat. If I did that, I would have been out of this sick, twisted game a long time ago.

I slowly took a step back, knowing there was an incline just a few feet behind me and to my left. I just had to make it back a few more steps.

My hand instinctively inched closer to the sheathed knife strapped to my thigh, and the man's eyes dropped down to monitor what my hand was doing. There was no way I could withdraw it fast enough without him shooting me first... So I just kept inching my way back. With every step I took backward, he matched me one forward, quickly closing the distance between us.

"Don't make this any harder than it's gotta be, sweetheart." The redneck growled at me again, and I made a disgusted face at how demeaning the word 'sweetheart' sounded when he said it, "Yer caught."

The hell I was.

I glanced to my left. I could see the incline now. Damn, it was a lot steeper than I thought... but it was my only escape. If I could get far enough away from this guy and lose him in the woods, I'd just loop around in a circle back to camp, and tell the others we had to leave, now.

"Hear me, girl?" I heard that raspy southern drawl again, and I turned my eyes back to him, "Don't even think about runnin'... I don't wanna hafta chase after ya."

I stayed perfectly still for just a moment more, before diving to my left, crashing through the brush and tumbling down the steep incline. I did my best to tuck and roll, but I honestly couldn't tell if it was helping at all.

"Son of a bitch...!" I vaguely heard the redneck curse, but soon all I heard was a sharp ringing in my ears from the violent, repetitive tumbling motion.

Rocks, twigs, and tree roots battered me from every angle, scratching and bruising my body. By the time I hit level ground again, I had gained so much momentum that I skidded across the grass, slamming to a sharp halt as my body collided with a thick, mossy tree trunk.

The harsh impact knocked the wind out of me, and a strained "oomf" crawled from the bottom of my throat as my lungs shriveled up. I choked and sputtered as I layed there on the ground, watching my world spin around me, even though I knew I was motionless. It was impossible to tell which way was up.

Up... I had to get up, I was being hunted down at that very moment. I needed to run, as much as I knew I couldn't with my equilibrium thrown so off balance, and my lungs still gasping desperately for oxygen; But in a world of life and death, you had to make the impossible happen.

So, with a determined groan, I forced myself up off the ground... But as I strained my abdominal muscles, I felt a sharp, stinging pain just above my belly button. I gasped a little bit as my hand flew to the area, feeling something warm and sticky through a rip in my pale yellow tank top. I kept my hand there as I forced my legs to hoist my body up the rest of the way, leaning my back against the tree trunk. I closed my eyes and took a couple short, shaky breaths before pulling my hand away from my stomach, and glancing downward at it. I already knew what I was about to see.

And I was right. My fingers were coated in a thick, bright red liquid; Blood from a fresh gash on my stomach, right above my belly button, about four and a half inches long... And it was a deep one, too. I winced at the sight of it, figuring something must have ripped my tank top during my fall, slicing my skin in the process.

"Shit..." I breathed as I squeezed my eyes shut and layed my head back against the tree's mossy bark.

The dizzyness had calmed a little, but not completely. My legs felt like jello, trembling and wobbling weakly beneath me. Slowly, my adrenaline wound down and all the pain from the scratches, bumps and bruises from the tumble hit me at once like a punch in the face.

I gasped as I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps crashing through the woods, coming my way. It was him, I knew it was; Those footsteps were too fast and precise to be a walker's. I knew I had no more time to waste, so I mustered up every last ounce of strength and will power I had left, and I took off running. I didn't exactly know which way I was going, but I didn't exactly have much of a choice, either. That redneck was hot on my heels, I had one pathway available, and I was taking it.

My lungs were running on empty as I pushed my body forward, still struggling to recooperate from the harsh evacuation of oxygen that the tree trunk had caused just a few minutes before. My legs and feet grew numb and heavy as they pounded the earth below me. It was as if my body was running on cruise control, responding only to my will to leave.

The wound across my midsection burned intensely for the first few moments of running, but as the air rushed over it the blood began to slow and clot, leaving a dry, crusty stain across my skin... blegh.

Even through the combination of my pounding heart and the deafening ringing in my eardrums, I could hear the footsteps behind me, crashing louder and gaining closer through the brush.

I let out a small whimper, willing my already exhausted body to go just a little faster... but it just wasn't happening. I was already maxed out. My lungs wheezed and I started to feel light headed, but I wasn't stopping. If I was going to die today, I was going down with a fight.

But I really hoped I wasn't going to die today...

I clenched my jaw, pushing my legs to carry me around a cluster of trees obstructing my path. But I had taken the turn too sharply; My noodle-like legs stumbled to the side, and I felt my ankle sink into something rough and thick... And sharp.

Whatever it was clung to my boot, wrapping halfway up my exposed calf, and what felt like a thousand razorblades clung into my skin. It yanked my leg as my body kept with the forward inertia, and the next thing I knew I had crashed down face first into the dirt and grass. I yelped in pain, not only from the horrible sensation in my calf, but also from my stomach scraping roughly on the ground, reopening the wound. As I shakily pushed my body into a sitting position, I could see a red skid mark on the ground from where I had just been laying.

A thin stream of fresh blood began dripping down to the hem of my now filthy jean shorts, and the intense stinging sensation hit me all over again. I had to grit my teeth and bear it, though... Because I had a bigger problem.

My leg had been snared in a massive, overgrown thorn bush. The gigantic thorns growing off the thick vines looked more like shark teeth, and they were razorsharp. Hundreds of them dug themselves into my boot, and the vines twisted and wrapped themselves up to my calf, the thorns piercing deep into my skin.

I was stuck, and I was stuck good. I just couldn't catch a break today...

I tried simply pulling my leg free, mostly for shits and giggles. I knew damn well that wasn't going to work, and I was right. I could barely move an inch without yelping at the thousands of sharp, cutting sensations. My brain automatically stopped all movement in my leg, minus a little trembling. Blood dripped from the places where the thorns dug into me, working themselves deeper and deeper with each second. This was just fucking great.

I knew I had to cut myself free, and I had to do it fast. I reached for my knife, grabbed the handle, and pulled... but there was resistence. My stomach fluttered; That wasn't right... usually the sharp blade slid right out of the sheath like butter.

I pulled again. Nothing. Yanked as hard as I could, still nothing.

"What the hell?" I cursed in a frustrated tone.

This just added more fuel to the fire. My knife must have gotten jammed into the sheath during the fall somehow... And that knife was my only weapon. This plan of mine was completely back firing on me... Things couldn't get much worse.

But as I heard the bushes begin to rustle loudly in the direction I had been headed, I froze. I zeroed in on the sound of stumbling, uneven footsteps drawing closer... A walker.

I spoke too soon. Things had just gotten worse. Way worse.

I stared in horror over my shoulder as the walker emerged from the bushes. It was a man, or what used to be a man... He was average height and had a stocky build. He was dressed in dirty, ripped up camo gear, and on his neck was a huge, gaping wound; A bite. He must have been on a hunting trip in these woods when all hell broke loose... Ironically, he ended up becoming the one hunted down.

I held completely still, my breath stuck frozen in my lungs. My eyes never left the walker, who was still turned away from me a few yards ahead, gurgling and wheezing. I silently willed the undead beast away, begging it to keep on going on its path inside my head.

But suddenly, the walker's cloudy eyes widened, and it began to sniff the air vigorously. It was locked onto something, and as it slowly turned its head to look straight at me, I realized what it had locked onto. It was attracted to the blood seeping from the gash on my stomach, drawn to it like a shark to chum in the ocean.

My heart raced as the walker took its first wobbly step toward me, reaching its arms out in hunger. Its mouth hung open under its scruffy beard, which was crusty with blood and decomposing flesh... That was about to be my blood if I didn't figure out how to get myself free from the thornbush's painful grasp.

So, with fearful tears filling my eyes and streaming down my cheeks, I frantically turned back to my leg. I had no choice but to tear at the vines with my bare hands. That turned out to be easier said than done... That shit was tough, like Mother Nature's barbed wire. The thorns pierced the delicate skin of my fingers, slicing them up and drawing more blood.

I let out a sob as I heard the walker's scuffling feet growing closer, and its hungry moans escalating into roars. The pain I felt in my fingers was definately slowing me down, wasting time I didn't have.

I felt like I could puke as I came to the grim realization that there was no way I'd be able to break free in time... But I didn't quit. Like I always promised myself, I'd keep fighting till the end.

By now, the walker was right behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling its presence at my back. I whimpered, awaiting the horrible, agonizing death that was inevitable at this point... This was it, I was going to die.

Devoured by a walker, a single walker, all because of some angry redneck...

*swish* ..... *thud* ....

Suddenly, there was the sound of something cutting through the air just above my head, followed shortly by the sound of a heavy body collapsing to the ground.

Then, it was quiet. Completely quiet. I slowly opened my eyes, and turned my head over my shoulder. The walker was now lifeless on the ground behind me; Its left arm had been trapped under the body, snapped and exposing the rotten bone.

Its horrid face was frozen with its mouth agape, and lodged in one of its wide eyes was a black arrow with red and green feathers at its tail end.

My ears perked up at the sound of a twig snapping, and I whipped my head around again, tossing the lower half of my long french braid from side to side.

My eyes were met with a pair of legs, covered by a pair of faded jeans with a hole in one knee. At the bottom of the jeans was a pair of dusty tan work boots, and as my eyes trailed upward I was met with the stone cold gaze of Mr. Redneck. I quickly reached up and wiped my tears away, smearing dirt and blood on my cheeks in the process.

His crossbow was gripped in his left hand, which hung by his side. The arrows loaded into the bow were black with green and red feathers... just like the one that had killed that walker.

Did he just... save me? I was a little confused and I'm sure that showed on my face as I stared up at the man.

He gave me a once over, flashing his eyes over my damaged body, before narrowing them and pursing his lips in a slight sneer.

"Stupid girl.." He muttered while stepping around me. The sound of his footsteps shuffling around the walker's body filled my ears, followed by the sickening *crack* of the arrow being swiftly yanked from the decomposing skull.

I heard the redneck stand again, and the soft *click* of the arrow being reloaded into the crossbow.

I stared blankly into the trees. He had me. I was trapped, completely defenseless without my weapons. I was honestly expecting him to just point the crossbow at the back of my head, and *POP* ... Finish me right there. I mean, it really would have been that easy.

But to my surprise, the man slung the crossbow over his shoulder on its strap, and crouched down beside me with his masculine forearms rested on his knees. He peered down at the tangled mess snaring my ankle, examining the damage.

Then, he turned his scruffy face back towards me, and I found myself looking him in the eyes once more.

"Told ya not to run." He spat at me simply.

I blinked my heterochromial eyes.

"...Excuse me...?" I managed to choke out. My voice was strained and raspy.

"Why didn't ya just cut yerself loose?" He asked, ignoring my question. As if cutting myself loose wasn't completely obvious.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? That was the first thing I tried to do." I defended myself.

"Well, you were dumb enough to run from me," The man countered, his voice low, "'N look what ya got yerself into. You tell me who's the idiot here."

I stayed quiet as he stared into my eyes in an intimidating, challenging mannor. After a second, I realized arguing with a total stranger was pointless, as stubborn as I was... But this guy seemed like he one upped me in the stubborn department.

"...My knife's stuck." I said to him curtly, my eyes narrowed.

The redneck glanced at the knife strapped to my thigh inside the sheath. He suddenly reached for it, and my reaction was to flinch away. The sudden motion caused the vines to wrap themselves tighter around my leg.

"Ah...!" I gasped at the sharp pain.

The redneck gave me a look.

"You gonna let me grab that knife now?" he asked me, sounding annoyed, "'Cause I ain't got one on me, so it's lookin' like that's the only way yer gettin' cut loose... 'Less you'd just prefer I leave ya here fer walker chow. Don't matter much to me."

I didn't say anything, just stared at him with intensity. He stared right back, widening his eyes a little as if to coax an answer out of me.

I couldn't seem to figure out what this man's intentions were, no matter how hard I studied him. Usually I was pretty good at reading people... But this guy was pretty difficult. There was just... nothing in his eyes or his voice, except for the slight hint of anger or annoyance every now and again.

He obviously wasn't trying to kill me, at least.. not yet. I mean, he did kill that walker, saving my life, when he could have just skipped a step and shot me instead. And now it seemed like he was even trying to help me... despite how rude he was about it.

But if he wasn't trying to kill me, why did he bother to chase me all this way? Maybe he wanted to--

My body tensed as I suddenly felt the roughness of his finger tips graze the soft skin of my thigh as he went for my knife again. My eyes widened and shot to his face, which didn't look up from the knife.

"Relax..." The redneck grumbled as he fiddled with the blade inside the sheath, "I ain't interested in none'a that."

I felt my cheeks flush in embarrasment. But could he really blame me for reacting that way? In a world like this, with no more law or concrete definition of wrong and right, a man could get away with anything he wanted.

As wrong as it felt, something somewhere in my body urged me to trust the redneck, just for these few moments. So, my muscles relaxed a little bit as the man wiggled the blade around in its sheath. I kept a sharp eye on his hands as they worked, while simultaneously keeping a look-out for any approaching walkers. So far, it was clear.

After an awkward minute or two, I heard a *click* from my knife's sheath. Mr. Redneck slid the blade out effortlessly, holding it up for me to see. I stared at him a moment, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"Well, thank you." I said sarcastically, "That reeeally helps me out now."

"I ain't tryin' to help you out," The man informed me while flashing me a sneer, "I'm tryin' to figure out why you were spyin'. But we'll get to that later."

With that, he began sawing at the thick vines, and I clenched my teeth as I felt the thorns being quickly ripped from my skin. I fought back the urges to wince and yelp at the sharp, repetitive stinging sensations. I didn't want to look like a little bitch in front of this guy.

I stayed quiet while the man cut through and tossed away all the vines that had been hooked to my skin. Now he was focusing on untangling my boot, and as he worked I couldn't stop thinking about my brother and my friends... I had to get back to them.

Finally, Mr. Redneck snapped the last leathery vine, and I was free. With the vines absent, the damage they'd done didn't look too bad. The man slid my knife into his back pocket, and stood up.

"C'mon." He barked an order, motioning for me to stand up.

I was about to protest the confiscation of my only weapon, but I clamped my lips shut and stopped myself... It was pointless to argue, or try to get my knife back. He had the upper hand on me, as much as I hated accepting it.

After I hesitated for too long, the man gave me an aggravated look.

"What're ya waitin' for, girl? Snow?" The redneck demanded impatiently.

Slowly, I stood to my feet, ignoring my wobbly legs and all the aches and pains my body was screaming out at me.

"Where are we going...?" I asked while skeptically narrowing my eyes.

"That way." He grunted his simple reply, nodding in the direction we had both just come from.

I scowled at him. He knew that wasn't the answer I wanted... Never the less, I swallowed my pride and tromped off in the direction he had pointed me.

It made me sick, letting someone control me like this. I kept telling myself this would never have happened if I would have remembered even just one of my guns. The thought was supposed to make me feel better, but really it just made me more angry at myself for walking away from camp unprepared.

Then again, I hadn't exactly been expecting to get ambushed at six o'clock in the morning, either.

Mr. Redneck and I trudged along for a few minutes in silence, minus the occasional "left" "right" or "straight" he would instruct from behind me. As we progressed further, the path started to look familiar... That's when I spotted the binoculars I had abandoned earlier that morning, laying on the ground up ahead and to the right.

My stomach jumped as I saw them... No wonder the path looked so familiar. That was my look out spot! I could see the prison in the distance as we passed by. We were heading back to camp, and this guy was having me lead him straight to it.

Sure enough, as we walked a few more feet, I could hear familiar voices; Of all of them, Zach's was most prominent.

"WHERE'S MY SISTER?!" His voice bellowed out, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU BASTARDS?!"

Upon hearing my brother's distress, I instinctively called out to him.

"Zach!!!" My voice erupted from my throat, sounding a bit more quivery than I'd wanted it to.

"Kayla?!" Zach hollered, his tone morphing from furious to hopeful, "Where are you?!"

Just as Zach finished his sentence, I came around the corner of bushes, Mr. Redneck following close behind with his crossbow at my back.

I could see the camp in clear view, just about 10 yards away now.

Tina, Zach, Jessie, and Danny were all huddled together with their backs against the side of the Cherokee. Two men stood in front of them, armed with automatic assault rifles. In the middle of our camp, every gun and knife we owned lay in a pile. Next to it, the boxes of ammo.

When the two men heard our footsteps approaching, they turned around. As I drew closer, I took a look at each of their faces. I recognized them both; It was the African American man with the thick football player's physique, and the young asian man, who looked a bit timid and unsure of himself. I assumed taking hostages wasn't usually on his daily agenda.

When the redneck and I got close enough, I lunged for my brother, who grabbed for me and held me out at arms length as I sat down. He looked me up and down, taking in all my injuries.

"Its not so bad," I fibbed as a glare plastered itself on Zach's face.

"Did that son of a bitch touch you, Kayla..?"My brother demanded from me in a sharp growl.

I shook my head, about to speak, when Mr. Redneck spoke up in my place.

"Stupid girl did that to 'erself," He said, "Don't go blamin' me fer that mess."

My older brother glared daggers at the man as he spoke, and I followed suit. That redneck sure was cocky...

"Okay, I know I've asked this question like three times already... But maybe if I ask again, someone might actually answer me." Danny snapped, "Who the hell are you guys??"

After listening to Mr. Redneck's heavy southern drawl, I could barely notice Danny's slight twang. When I looked at his face, as well as everyone else in my group, I could see the bags under their eyes, their rumpled clothes and frayed hair... They all looked exhausted. Those two men must have woken them up with guns in their faces.

I felt an ember of anger start to burn in the pit of my stomach as I visualized that thought. Even though my group got on my last nerve sometimes, I was extremely protective of them.

They were my family, everything I had.

"Well, we're here to ask you guys the same question." The asian man replied to Danny. The tough tone in his voice sounded a little forced.

"...Do you want liiiiike, introductions, or something...?" Zach asked. His voice was sarcastic and annoyed. Through my experience growing up with him, I knew he was just cranky... Probably hungry, too.

"Cut the bullshit, man." The redneck suddenly snapped at my brother, "Who the hell's 'G'? Which one'a ya??"

We all just stared at the grizzly man as his blue eyes passed over each one of us.

"I honestly have no fucking idea what--" My brother countered, but the redneck caused him to stop his words short by rolling his eyes and stalking over to the African American man.

"Gimme those damn papers, T-Dog," He grumbled a demand.

Okay, T-Dog. I could remember that.

T-Dog dropped one hand from his gun and patted his front pocket, then the back. Then he switched hands and checked the pockets on the other side while Mr. Redneck waited impatiently.

"I don't have 'em," T-Dog finally concluded, "Glenn must have 'em."

At the mention of his name, the asian man (or now Glenn) began to pat down the right side of his vest, holding his gun with one hand. After a second he tucked his free hand into the vest, pulling out a roll of white papers held together by a thin rubber band.

"Sorry," Glenn stammered, "Here they are."

The redneck snatched the roll of paper from Glenn, tossing it into Zach's lap as he turned around.

"Those look familiar?" He barked at us accusingly.

Zach ignored him as he rolled the rubber band upwards, letting the papers unravel in his hands. All of us leaned into Zach a little bit, examining the notes with him.

None of the short sentences spelled out in magazine clippings made sense, but they were definately threatening.

As Zach flipped through the papers numerous times, I noticed that each of them was signed at the bottom with a loopy, capital cursive 'G'. Slowly, my mind put two and two together, and my eyes widened. I turned my gaze up towards our three attackers.

"Wait, so you guys are out here because you think we sent these?" I asked in slight disbelief.

"Who else would it be?" T-Dog asked with a glare in my direction. As he spoke, I noticed a small gap in his front teeth. "There's no one else around here for miles."

"Well, it wasn't us." Tina spoke up.

"Yea, we've never seen any of you in our lives!!" Danny agreed. That was a bit of a white lie... Although I had seen them a bit more than everyone else.

"Tell that to the one'a ya I caught spyin' on us." The redneck hissed, burning his narrow eyes into me.

I gulped as I felt everyone in the group glance at me, and my eyes shifted between their waiting faces. Finally, I let out a long sigh.

"Okay, so maybe I was... spying..." I confessed sheepishly, "I was just curious, that's all..."

I decided to leave out the part about our plan to wait five days without seeing their group before moving in on the prison. I had a feeling that comment wouldn't have gone over very well. Plus, that plan was pretty much washed down the drain by now, anyway.

"Daryl, I really don't think they know anything..." Glenn said softly to the redneck.

My ears perked up. Aha; Daryl. That was his name... It fit him quite well, actually.

"People'r real good at lyin' 'ese days..." Daryl said back, as if we weren't sitting three feet away. His narrow blue eyes burned with a look of warning as he spoke.

"Uuh, we're actually not lying..." Jessie tried to put her two cents into this whole mess, but she was just ignored and talked over.

"So what about that woman who just showed up at our gate a little while ago?" T-Dog continued interrogating us, "You ever seen her before?"

We all stared up at him quizically, slowly shaking our heads in confusion... But I was faking it, because unlike the others, I had seen her.

"She looked like she was coming right from this direction," Glenn added in, as if that might jog one of our memories.

"We were all sleeping.." Tina pointed out defensively, "You guys came and woke us up... How could we have seen her?"

T-Dog and Glenn glanced at each other thoughtfully, as if having forgotten about this small but important detail until now.

"Not you."

I felt the grizzly redneck's eyes on me yet again, and I looked up at him.

"Huh...?"

"You weren't sleepin'," Daryl clarified, "That's exactly when I caught ya spyin'. You tryin' to tell me you didn't see 'er when she came through?"

"I-I saw her, but it was through the binoculars," I defended myself quickly, "I swear, she was already half way to the gate. I didn't hurt her or send her there!"

Daryl's eyes flickered up and down, as if sizing me up.

"She's got a nasty cut in 'er side... 'N you got that knife on ya." He growled darkly.

My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe this, I was innocent! No matter what I said, this Daryl guy was hell bent on making sure I was the evil villain he was looking.for.

"Are you fucking serious?!" I screeched, having scrambled up to my feet without really thinking about the two assault rifles and crossbow pointed in our faces.

"Sit down, girl..." Daryl growled menacingly, threatening to release his.loaded weapon, "'Less you want an arrow in'a leg."

T-Dog and Glenn aimed their barrels straight at me as well, with their fingers on the triggers, ready to fire if necessary.

"HEY!!" Zach roared, beginning to shoot up to his own feet, "You lay one finger on her and I'll fucking kill ALL of you...!"

Jessie begged for Zach to stop as our three attackers tensed just a little bit more. She reached up and tugged on his arm but he violently shrugged her off.

"Ya'll better just simmer down now, 'fore someone gets hurt." Daryl commanded, motioning his crossbow toward the ground, "Sit."

I glanced at the three men threatening to open fire on us, then up to my brother's face. His rugged jaw was clenched, his lips forming a tense, thin line.

Zach's brow was furrowed in anger, and his hazel eyes burned furiously, staring about wild and crazy. His broad shoulder had wedged itself infront of me, his arm draped over the front of my body protectively.

My heart softened for a brief moment as I realized my big brother really would take a bullet... or maybe even an arrow... for me, in a heartbeat.

"I ain't gonna tell ya again.." Daryl persisted, "Sit. Now."

With that, I tugged on Zach's arm as I slowly sat down. He reluctantly followed my example, and sat down next to me, keeping his eyes glued to the three men in front of us the entire time.

When they were sure Zach and I were calm, T-Dog, Glenn, and Daryl began whispering back and forth to each other.

"So what are we going to do with them...?" Glenn asked first.

"Maybe we should just let 'em go," T-Dog suggested, which sounded like a good plan to me, "They seem pretty innocent."

But Daryl shook his head of shaggy, light brown hair.

"Nah," He scoffed, "I'm takin' 'em to Rick. He's good at gettin' the truth outta people... let him decide what to do with 'em."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Glenn said nervously, "Rick's--"

"I don't give a god damn," Daryl snapped, cutting Glenn off, "Rick's still the leader'a this group, 'n I ain't leavin' 'im in the dark about a pack'a spyin' strangers in'a woods."

Rick...? Some guy named Rick was apparently their leader, and it seemed like Daryl had a lot of respect for him.

I wondered to myself if Rick was that man in the Sheriff's uniform...?

Without a word more from anyone else, we all watched while Daryl tore down the blue sheet that was folded on top of the Cherokee, where it had been waiting to be set up again for the day... Looked like that wouldn't be happening anymore, though.

He unfolded the sheet and flicked it a few times before laying it overtop our pile of weapons and ammo, bundleing them all up and tying a sturdy knot to secure them inside, all in one swift motion.

With the smallest of grunts, Daryl hoisted the make-shift sack of weapons over his shoulder with one hand, while his crossbow hung at his side in the other. As he walked back toward us, there was no strain in his face; As if he were hauling a sack of feathers, not pounds of steel.

He then ordered my group and I to stand up, and start walking forward in a single file line. Not knowing what else we could do, we simply obeyed and began walking.

My stomach jumped and churned as we led the three men away from our camp and through the trees with their weapons at our backs.

The prison came into my view, and my heart started to race as I took in the sight of the enormous set of cement and brick buildings. Within twenty minutes, we would be inside those walls, defenseless with no weapons, on potential enemy grounds.

It was safe to say that none of us knew what to expect.

-TO BE CONTINUED-