All This Time (A Daryl Dixon fanfiction)

Chapter 81

"Open the gates, Cal. Freddie's hurt," His response was calm and straightforward. He shifted his body so he stood between Hilltop and us with both arms outstretched. Finally, he faced Rick and me, his bright eyes dancing between us. "Look, sorry about these guys. They get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing."

"They give up the weapons. Then we'll open the gates."

"Why don't ya come down here 'nd get 'em?"

Doctor Carson pushed forward, lightly touching Daryl's shoulder as he passed him. "Gentlemen, look, we vouch for these people, alright?" It was nice to hear that this stranger put himself on the line with his guys to verify our credibility. Or super stupid, I wasn't sure yet. "They saved us out there."

"Lower the spears," Jesus ordered through the clenched teeth.

"Look, I'm not taking any chances," Rick finally said, his gun lowered a little. "Tell your guy Gregory to come out here."

"No." Jesus turned to us, and I could see the annoyance on his usually cheerful face for the first time. "Don't you see what just happened? I'm letting you keep your guns. We run out of ammo months ago."

I shifted my eyes to his and saw only truth in them, making me slowly lower my gun. He was right. He was taking an incredible chance. If we wanted, we could easily take over, we had enough gun power on us, and they had none. If that wasn't a show of faith, then I don't know what else he could have done.

"Rick," I moved to Sherrif, keeping my voice low. "He's right. I mean, if they don't have any guns, we could easily wipe them out. But he's trusting us. And to be fair, if we would have a group of strangers approach our gates, we would act exactly the same."

Rick seemed to mull over my words for a moment, and when they finally sunk in, he motioned for others to lower their guns.

I whistled sharply. "Big Boy, put it down." I walked towards him and placed my hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense up for a split second.

"Ya sure, El?"

"For now, yeah."

Daryl huffed under his nose but pointed his rifle to the ground, still glaring at the two men on top of the wall. Slowly one by one, others also lowered their weapons, and after a long moment of strained silence, the gate was pulled open, showing us inside of the Hilltop.

It was drastically different than our own home. When you walked inside the Alexandria, the first thought was usually nostalgic, bringing back memories of life before the turn. With regular streets surrounded by family homes with green mowed lawns, no sign of deterioration or abandonment that's so natural in current times. With tall trees scattered around, people in clean clothes strolling down the street. Alexandria in itself was a small town occupied by survivors.

Hilltop, on the other hand, was a settlement. The only building that resembled a house, or a mansion rather, was placed on the top of the hill, a three-story red brick house that reminded me of the old plantation houses so popular in the south. But that was the only link to the past. The remainder of the area was full of trailers and small wooden booths. On the left, there was a cloud of smoke coming from one of them, followed by the cling that metal made while hit by metal.

They had a blacksmith. I could clearly hear the chatter of people, but the glances they were sending in our direction were full of fear and mistrust. The sounds of animals somewhere to the right confirmed Jesus' story even though I couldn't see them. It was clear that they were surviving and also that they had a smaller population than Alexandria.

"There was a materials yard for a power company nearby. That's how we put up the walls," Jesus interrupted my thoughts. He led our group on a small dirt path leading to the house, stopping when he realized our steps had slowed down. "A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them."