Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

56: An Old "Friend"

It was morning before Aaron said we were approaching the community.

I was sitting beside Carl when Aaron had told us, and we both looked over at each other and grinned.

"This is gonna work," I said confidently, nodding my head. "It has to work."

Carl nodded, smiling down at me. "It'll work," he grinned.

Then, he seemed to think about it for a moment before he slipped an arm around me, looking up to the front window of the RV. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I followed his eyes to the window. When I saw what he was looking at, my smile grew wider.

There, coming up in front of us, was a huge gate, surrounded by tall, thick walls on either side. Several cars were parked outside the gates with spikes sticking out from the windows, most likely to deter walkers.

Abraham pulled the RV to a stop in front of the gate, and all of us slowly emerge from the vehicle. Aaron came out last, supporting Eric, and they both did an awkward shuffle up to the front gate.

"It's okay! You can open the gate! These are the survivors I've brought back," Aaron called up to the guards, who were looking at us suspiciously from the high wall.

They seemed to have known who we were, though, because after that, they began climbing down from the post to unlock the gate for us.

As we were waiting, a scurrying noise from a nearby trashcan startled us, and, not knowing any better, most of us turned and pointed our guns at it. Dad was the first to shoot at the creature, and when he'd killed it, he picked it up, and I realized it was a opossum.

By then, the gates had opened, with the guards standing in front of it, and the first words out of my dad's mouth were, "we brought dinner."

I didn't know why I was expecting anything different.

Gawking at the inside of the community, I walked over to Dad and took the dead opossum from his hands. I tossed it aside, into the woods, and grabbed Dad by the arm.

"Let's check this out," I told him without removing my eyes from the scenery around me. There were trees planted in rows on patches of green grass, with children playing together and laughing. There were houses set up near each other in sections across the enclosed community; they were all beautiful, two-story houses, nicer than anything I'd ever seen.

"We're gonna need you guys to hand over your weapons."

The voice tore me out of my daze, and my eyes immediately went to the person that had uttered the words. It had been one of the guards, who had their arms crossed over their chest.

"No, it's okay."

I looked in front of us, and saw an older, red-headed woman standing there, smiling at us. "They need to see for themselves that this place is safe; they won't believe us otherwise. Give them a chance to get a feel for the community, then their weapons can go to the armory."

None of our group members said anything; we were too infatuated with the community, and all the new policies being thrown at us.

"Hi, I'm Deanna Monroe; I'm basically the leader here, me and my husband Reg help run things," the red-haired woman explained. "Which one of you is the leader in your group?"