The Lost Dixon // The Walking Dead

Ch. 47

The Lost Dixon

Ch. 47- Knots Untie

Reece's Point of View:

Daryl and I sat outside on the porch of home. We enjoyed sandwiches and a few bottles of beer as we chatted away. Everything seemed to be going fine until we find Alexander, one of the guards, rushing towards us.

"The person. He's gone." He informs.

"What?" Daryl questions.

"I-I was on watch and I went to check on him. The ropes around his hands and legs, they're sitting on the bed. But he's gone." He says.

"See which way he went?" I ask.

"Daryl! Reece!" We turn our heads and find Glenn and Maggie rushing towards our house. "He's in Rick's house!" Daryl and I dropped everything we had and sprint off to Rick's house. We all barged through the front door and rush up the stairs. We stopped, seeing the mysterious guy sitting at the top of the stairs, Carl pointing his gun at his head. As a bonus, we find Rick and Michonne, standing at the top of the stairs gathering themselves. Well. Looks like their a thing now.

"It-It's okay." Michonne holds her hand out to us.

"You said we should talk." Rick says. "So let's talk." Everyone disappears to give Rick and Michonne a chance to gather themselves. The rest of us decided to wait in the living room, keeping watch of the new guy. I remember Daryl stating he calls himself Jesus. But his real name is Paul Rovia. I guess, Paul is a better name than Jesus in my opinion. 

"How long you think that's been happening?" I ask Daryl.

"What?" He asks.

"Rick and Michonne." I say. Daryl shrugs. Michonne is no stranger to us. She's been with us since the prison and came through with us since it fell. She's normally quiet, doesn't really speak up as much...or even talk. Maybe that's why Rick likes her so much. Then again, she must've not been so quiet last night.

Rick and Michonne finally made it downstairs. We all move over to the dining room, Paul sitting at the head of the table. Rick pulls back a chair and plants himself down.

"So how'd you get out?" Rick begins.

"One guard can't cover two exits or third floor windows." Paul begins. True, true. "Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?"

"Right." Daryl nods, giving Paul the meanest glare. Paul, how do I describe him. Well, he's smart for one. He's quiet. Something I like to do. He's a strategic. Playing his cards the way he wants to get what he wants. Most times, I do the same. I guess a bonus, he's actually kinda fun to look at. He's got really pretty eyes. Their so blue, so clear. It's like looking at a crystal or something.

"I checked out your arsenal." Paul continues. "I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. You're well-equipped, but your provisions are low. Very low for the amount of people you have. 54?" He says.

"More than that." I say. Paul's eyes turn to me and he holds a stare. The corner of his mouth lifts up and his left brow raises. What kind of look was that? A smirk?

"Well, I appreciate the cookie. My compliments to the chief." He says.

"Yeah, she ain't here." Daryl growls. Paul let's out a small sigh.

"Look, we got off to a bad start." He begins. "But we're on the same side- the living side. You and Rick had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn't. I'm from a place that's a lot like this one. Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things and both of you looked like trouble. I was wrong. You're good people. And this is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other."