Better Angels

The yard went into abrupt chaos. I gripped my motorcycle handles with white knuckles as I jogged with the bike towards Daryl, talking with Merle at the edge of the drive.

"Want to come give the 'welcome wagon?'." I ask.

For a minute, his eyes lock onto the bike, then my face, he nods a little and jogs off to get the chopper, Merle starts walking towards the house.

I make sure I have enough ammo and a knife. I know that they are guests here, but you can never be too sure when they are planning on killing you for what you have.

Daryl's engine roars with anticipation beside mine, and we hit the gas, the dirt of the driveway flying up in a dusty cloud as we speed towards the end of the drive, where the same two vans as before approach the locked white gates.

"You take head car! Glenn is coming out in a miute with Rick to check out vehicles and then we let them in!" Daryl shouts over the bikes, I nod and give him a thumbs up in response.

The cars stop and I unlock the first gate, we drive fourth and close it behind us, opening the main one, the cars gather in and I close it behind them, I see Glenn driving down the road in the car we took on the supply run earlier.

I ride my bike around the two vans while Daryl does as well, Rick and Glenn are there, and Shane. Then I pull up beside the passenger window of the head car, as suspected, that is where Myriah sits, Mike in the drivers seat, however that came to be.

She turns in her seat to smile at me, but I'm not looking at her, I'm looking at him I glare at him.

"Main rules will be given out at the house, you will each be issued a test, answer according to our liking and you will be issued a spot to set up camp. Anyone who fails to provide the desired information will be asked to leave." I state in a blank monotone, an underlining edge, as I look at Mike the entire time I say it.

"Wow, Aries, you've gone like, totally badass commando rule inforcer." Myriah laughs, but I can't summon the happiness to do it as well.

The engine snarls as I pull around the front of their van, up beside Mike's window. I notice that he fights the urge to look over at me as I glare at him through the open window.

"You better not try anthing stupid, remember, and this might just save your damn life, that I, I'm not afriad to shoot you. You step out of line, I'll be the one to kill you, you change, same follows." I say the rehearsed lines, eyes never moving from his, fierce.

He nods "No troubles." He raises both palms in surrender, but it doesn't make me trust him any more, but I can't think of anything that will.

"We're all ready!" Daryl calls, he bike appearing from behind the last van.

I nod, pulling around and starting to parade them down the driveway, I cast several warning glares back at Mike as we went, no matter what he says, I don't trust him.

As we entered the yard, I noticed everyone was outside, all of them had a weapon of some kind, I felt the anxiety my parents must have felt when I led this group of strangers back.

I pull around out of the way, kill the engine and kick down the kickstand, grabbing the keys from the ignition and pocketing them.

I pull my bow from my back and hesitate before loading it, sure it was an very accurate weapon, but if things do result in a firefight, I'm going to want something with less reloading. I put the bowstring back across my chest and grab the 49 caliber from my holster instead, looking down at it thoughtfully, it's weight deadly making me feel a little uneasy.

I make sure that I still have that extra magazine in my jean pocket on my left leg, when I feel it through the fabric, I grip my weapin tightly and advance towards the caravan.



How it happened?

I have no idea.

Why it happened?

I have no clue.

Should I be grateful?

Not in the least.

How the questions came, in strings of loving, fond words, and profanities. Everything a hurricane, hard to resist smiling at my sister's reunion with our mother. Yet... those three questions still remained. Choosing their fate.

The three questiong were easy to answer, harder for the contestant to understand what you are looking for from their answers, so they are less apt to lie about it. Those three questions are the ones we cared about more that, "How many supplies to you have?" "What are your intentions?" Or "How do you intend to help us?"

They were these:

1. How many walkers have you killed?

2. How many humans have you killed?

3. And why?

Question number three referred to if they have killed people, or have not. One would want to know why, was it because they are brutal and can't get along? Or because the are soft and can't stand hurting another person? That's how we have to look at it.

Myriah and mom had tears in their eyes, as they leaned in for their sixth hug, a tugging in my chest made me feel a little jealous.

We weren't actually sisters, but step sisters. But even if we were actually that close, kids are naturally more attached to the parent than the siblings, no matter what kind of bond they share.

I forced a smile, but it contorted into a grimace on my lips.

Dad was even smiling and joining on the hugs, for the times being, they drowned out the figure that stood beside her, we all wanted to take a swing at him.

Finally as it calmed, Dad raised his hands into the air "Let's begin, welcome to Redjenuse."

Redjenuse? I thought it over, realizing that he must be refering to the farm. When they had decided to give it some weird ass name, I have no idea.

It was pronounced Red-Jen-Ooz.

Everyone abandonned their vehicles and stood in a line, Dad was unpracticed with what came next, so Daryl, Shane and Rick volunteered to do the weapon pat-down.

After they were all gathered, I couldn't help but marvel at the very... unusual, crafty weapons they had. Some where standard knifes and blades, a few guns. And then some handmade weapons like sticks with sharpened ends, stained with almost black crimson.

I'll give it to these people, they know how to use the objects around them to survive. It looks like to me they've done well enough on their own. But something sparks in my head. "We were headed out there, but ended up getting holed up here for a while. We've stayed longer than planned..." Myriah had said.

So they were already headed this way. As a threat? In search of refugee? There's no way to tell for sure.

Their initiation proceeded quickly, I guess they all answered to satisfaction, then they introduced themselves.

Mike's mom and dad, three buffed out brothers and two sisters, one of his sisters, Ashley, had a little girl. Dixie.

Two of Mike's friends were also there, but we'll call them henchmen, his grandmother and uncle stood there, his grandmother a little softer, fraile and less brutal looking, clearly not cut out for this world. To be honest, I didn't think that I'd ever see another elderly person.

Hershel was the oldest I'd seen in a while, but he is strong and sturdy, the white hair and beard, wrinkles of wisdom across his cheekbones are all that really classify him otherwise.

"Ok, you're all good. Aries, take them to set up camp, give them some supplies." Dad instructed.

I nod.

"Glenn and T-Dog will go with you." Rick volunteered, they moved from the crowd to my side. I offered them a small 'thank you' smile.

I gestured with my hand for the group to follow. I'd set them up away from this group, but close enough for meetings and to have an eye kept on them.

We walked out south, a hundred yards to the fence line, "You can go ahead and set up here, you'll have your own water pump, Myriah knows the place pretty good if you need help. If she isn't avaible, come find one of us, and we can help you. Any questions?"

Everyone shakes their heads, only Mike's Grandmother, Evelyn thanks me, it's in her quiet, wise voice, but I still catch it, along with her gentle pat on my back that makes the stitches flare up, I press my lips into a tigt smile to conceal my discomfort.

I go to help set up tents, but most of them are already done. I see Mike working on one alone. As much as I dislike him, I've got to be the better man.

"Need any help?" I ask, Glenn and T-Dog flanking me.

He looks up and glares at me "Not from a stiff."

His comment surprises me, and reminds me of a book I read a few months ago called Divergent. The Dauntless called all the Abnegation transfers 'stiffs' because all they are is selfless, and incapable of self-indulgment or anything that could alter their 'caring for everyone else' routine.

I roll my eyes "It's a one time offer, Chum."

He glares up at me from my comment "Then it has a one time answer, no." He hissed.

I took that as my cue to leave. I checked around the camp, and offered my help elsewhere, Glenn and T-Dog got sucked into helping Evelyn set up a kitchen area on the dirty corner of the fence, resting boards across milk cans for a cabinet, and unloading their plastic totes to store beneath. I got caught up watching them that I walked into someone.

"Oops, sorry." I mumbled embarrassed, kneeling to help pick up the box of 40 caliber bullets all over the dirt.

"It's cool."

I look up at bright green eyes, he smiles, and he's charming.

"Hi, I'm Jackson. You must be Aries, David's other daughter." He offered his hand, which was a gesture generally lost these days, I gladly took it and shook it, his shake firm. Dad always said that men with a wimpy handshake can't handle hard work, men with strong hand shakes will strive to do as much as they can.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Myriah talked about you often." he notes as we pick up the last few bullets out of the sand, dusting them off and setting them into the little cardboard box no bigger then the palm of my hand.

"Oh." Is all I can think of to respond with "Well then you should know that I'm not nearly as interesting as she made me out to be." I smirk.

He just laughs "Don't worry, she said you were boring as sin."

I grimace, I could believe that she's say something like that "I can imagine that, actually." I say as we stand, I shove my hands deep into my jean pockets.

He punches my arm, and I look up, immediatly alarmed until I realize that it was supposed to be a friendly gesture. "I'm jokin'," He laughes "She said you were pretty cool, hopefully you live up to the expectations." He grins, before walking towards one of the other men, standing near the fence.

I just look after him, a bit more than surprised at what just happened, I shake my head and go to join Glenn and T-Dog, helping them help Evelyn.

I smile to myself as we sort out canne goods, there isn't a whole lot of them, so eventually we will have to share, or they are going to have to go on a supply run.

My mind was mostly absent during the time I helped, not because it just was, but because I banned every thought from my head besides corn, carrots and peas.

When we were done, we headed back for the house, I lost Glenn and T-Dog's company as I passed their camp, I kept walking though, towards the shed to take care of the horses before dinner. I felt a wave of deja vu as I entered the barn, jumping when I saw someone else there, it was just Merle.

He didn't appear to have noticed me, as he did not look up, but he grinned "Daryl tells me you was the one who brought in those damn missourians, please tell me otherwise, you're supposed to be the cool, smart one."

I'm not too sure was else to say, I shrug past him and grab the blue bucket off the floor.

"Sorry to disappoint." I mutter.

"So you did?" He presses, I just shrug a little. "Not that it matters." I mumble "They won't be here too long anyways."

I head out of the shed.

"Why do you say that?" He calls after, jogging to catch up.

"Because, it is only a matter of time before I decide to kill one of them." I say.

And he shuts up.