Surviving The New World (Book Six in the Surviving The Walking Dead Series)

Whispering Intel

I carefully made my way down the stairs to the basement as Daryl gently shut the doors behind me. The heat, the smell, it reminded me of when Rosita had me locked up. Michonne was right, I knew what this girl was going through, I had been in her shoes. I slowly made my way over to the only occupied cell, finding that the girl was cowering in the corner just at the sound of someone approaching. "Hi," I smiled. "I brought your breakfast, thought you'd be hungry." The girl didn't say a word, didn't even move. "It's not much, but it's calories. Eggs, a biscuit, an apple, and some water."

"How do I know you're not trying to poison me?" The girl asked.

"We don't poison people," I reassured. "I mean, we've killed people, but we don't poison people, that's just a horrible way to go." I gently sat the tray down and pushed it under her cell door. The girl stared at the tray, but didn't move.

"You've killed people? More than my people?"

"Who in this world hasn't anymore? When the world went to shit, everyone was quick to turn against each other, especially if they had supplies that they wanted or needed. We're not monsters here, we just wanna keep our people safe." Slowly, I backed away and sat down in a nearby chair, watching as the girl slowly crept forward and pulled her tray back into the corner where she quickly gorged on her eggs. "I'm Michaela, you got a name?"

"No," The girl answered with a mouth full of eggs. "I mean, we have names, but we never used them."

"What was your name then?" The girl fell silent. "What?"

"I-I'm not sure if I remember. We haven't used them since the start...I think it was L-Lid?"

"Lid?" I smirked. "Like the shit ya put on cups and Tupperware bowls?"

"It's all I can remember."

"Well, Lid sounds short for Lydia, that sound right?"

"Lydia," the girl mumbled to herself. "Lydia...I remember."

"Well, Lydia, my people wanna know some answers, and I'm gonna treat ya the way ya should be treated, all I ask is that ya be honest with me, okay?"

"I swear, I don't know anything.".

"I think ya do. See, these people, they just buried a good man, someone we all cared about. I get why he died, the guy was about to get killed, so he fought back, however, we still got questions, and you are the key to gettin' any answers. So, rather than just lettin' 'em hang ya just by association, they're lettin' me question ya, so just answer the questions and I'll know if you're lyin'." Lydia didn't respond. "How many are in your group?"

"I already told you, they're all dead."

"That's a crock of shit, and ya know it, Lyd. In order for y'all to control herds that big, you'd need more than the people we killed. How many?"

"Ten," Lydia answered. "There were ten of us...I think."

"Ya think?"

"I don't know how many in total. We all wore skins to blend in, got hard to keep track."

"How long have y'all been around here? Around our area?"

"I don't know, we move around a lot with the dead."

"And the dead don't bother y'all?"

"Not unless we draw attention to ourselves. The skins made them leave us alone. They protected us, so we protected them.

"Y'all have a camp?"

"No."

"No place y'all hold up? Buildings? Walls?"