Surviving Alexandria (BOOK THREE IN THE SURVIVING THE WALKING DEAD SERIES)

The Governor's Daughter

I quickly grabbed my gun and rose to my feet, but I instantly froze as two guns pointed back at me. Fuck. "Not so fast." The man smiled. "Hi, I'm Jon. What's your name, sweetheart?" I tightened my grip on my rifle. "Not much for introductions, are you?" Jon chuckled. "I get it, we're pointing our guns at you, can't say I wouldn't do the same if I was in your situation." I didn't respond. "Now, let's all just stop for a minute and think about this. I look at you and I see a clean, well fed woman, which means you're being well taken care of. Now, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see that you're filthy, skinny, and got a big 'W' carved into your forehead. Wolves?" Jon nodded with a smile. "Figured you'd be runnin' with those mutts."

"Now, do ya really think it's smart to be rude right now? I mean, we got guns on ya, it's only common sense to be polite so you don't get your ass shot." Jon smiled. "Oh, you're married?" Jon motioned towards my hand. "That must mean that someone cares an awful lot about you. The way I see it, you've got a lot to lose, especially if you decide to pull that trigger. I won't shoot you, but Russ over there," Jon tilted his head towards the man behind him. "he might."

I glanced over at Russ for a moment, his deadpanned expression unnerved me. "See, Russ here isn't like everyone else in our group." Jon continued. "Escaped prison a few weeks before shit fell apart. Caught his wife cheating with a married man, he lost it. Tied his wife to a chair, forced her to watch him kill and disembowel the man. Finally, he killed her, cut off her head, and mailed it to the man's wife. Got the death penalty. Killed numerous guards and took the warden hostage in order to escape. Russ, he's pretty fucked up, and he sure as hell ain't afraid to get his hands dirty. So, I suggest that you lower your gun and hand over your weapons."

I kept my aim for a moment, but my mind went back to Alexandria. To Daryl. The man was right, I had so much to lose. If handing over my weapons guaranteed me and my people's safety, I'd do it. "Be careful, darlin'." I glanced over to my right to see The Governor sitting at the table. "He ain't lyin' about shootin' ya, but what they're gonna do to ya, you're gonna wish they killed ya. These people, these 'Wolves', they will leave ya for the walkers in a heartbeat. Ya know how to get out of this, Michaela. You're strong, fearless, resourceful. You're my daughter. Ya got the know-how to get out of this. What did I tell ya when you were little? Ya kill or ya die." The Governor leaned forward and smiled. "Do it."

"The clock's ticking, sweetheart." I glanced back over to Jon and let out a sigh. I took my right hand off the gun and held it up as I held the rifle out to him with my left hand.

"Thank you." Jon smiled as he took the gun from me. "And now your knife." I slowly reached down with my right hand and unsheathed my knife, holding it out to him. SHUKK! As Jon reached for the knife, I plunged it into his throat. He gasped in shock before falling into my arms, drowning in his own blood.

POP! POP! POP! Russ began shooting at me. I held Jon close to me, using him as a human shield. "Michaela?" Daryl's voice came over the radio. "Michaela, you there? I'm hearin' gunshots, you alright?" POP! POP! POP! "Michaela!" CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! Russ' gun suddenly jammed, giving me the opportunity to attack. Using all my strength, I tossed Jon's dead body at him, causing him to fall to the ground before picking my rifle up off the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw more Wolves lining up along the outside of the RV.

BRATATATATATATATATATATATAT! I fired my rifle at the wall and smiled as I watched everyone collapse to the ground. "AAAAAAAAAH!" Russ growled as he tackled me to the ground, straddling my hips as he wrapped his hands around my throat. I clawed at his arms and face, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but his grasp only grew tighter. I felt around the ground, looking for a weapon before finally locating my knife, just a mere few centimeters out of reach.