[DISCONTINUED] FIND YOU ( T. WALKING DEAD )

- VII.

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FIND YOU
CHAPTER SEVEN;
( discriminate. )

❛ jack finds herself
in uncharted territory. ❜

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SHE STATIONED HERSELF outside the shed. Really, it was Shane's idea; he wanted to stand guard himself, but they both knew that wasn't advisable. He could have the purest intentions in the world, but still be viewed as conniving and suspicious. When she offered, he didn't say no, but a look of confusion washed over him- she couldn't even protect herself.

But they both knew that the chances of her needing to protect herself were slim. Both prisoners were handcuffed, both prisoners were injured, and both were locked in the shed.

She felt safe. For the most part.

"Excuse me," a raspy, weak voice croaked. In spite of how quiet the voice was, it managed to startle Jack, pulling her from her thoughts. Instantly, her head snapped to the left to glare over her shoulder at the pair of dark eyes peering through the cracks between the wooden boards. "Could I have some water, please? If it's not too much trouble?"

Her eyelids narrowed as her shoulders raised with a slight inhale. Thoughts racing, she glanced back and forth between each sea-colored eye. "Which one are you?" she quietly asked after a prolonged pause. It didn't truly matter which one was begging her for water- she just knew not to talk to the one named Randall. It was certain that he was part of the group who attempted to kill her father, Hershel, and Glenn.

The other prisoner - Shane still told her not to speak to him. However, Jack didn't see much reasoning behind that. Of course, he could be dangerous and plotting to kill her- but what if he wasn't? They seemed hesitant to believe him when he said that he had nothing to do with the attack, and for good reason, but...

Jack just needed to know if the one talking to her was definitely dangerous or just slightly dangerous. It made a difference.

"I'm Elijah." The slightly dangerous one. She took note. "I just want some water, please."

She turned to face the faint pair of eyes, arms crossed over her chest. Half of her wanted to use his desperation as leverage; she could see it now. "Tell me where your group is, or no water." But that just seemed so inhumane. The other half just wanted to oblige, just give whatever he needed so he wouldn't die of dehydration.

Would she really care if he died? No.

But you can't get information out of a dead man.