Forfeit ~Shane Walsh/OC~

Chapter Two

“Seriously, back off,” I shoved her. The other ninja grabbed my arm tightly. He was a bald black man with a serious look on his face.

“Are you kidding me? We’re dead ‘cause this stupid asshole.” Her eyes never left Rick’s. I pulled my arm out of the black man’s grip and walked up to her.

“I said back the Hell off.” She waited a minute then put her gun down and repeated that we were all dead.

“I don’t understand,” Rick said confused. I shook my head at him as I remembered he did just wake up from a coma yesterday and still has no idea what’s going on. The Hispanic man grabbed Rick’s arm and led him across the building. I stayed on his heels and the rest of the group followed.

“We came to the city to scavenge some supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving. You know the key to surviving? Tiptoeing. Not shooting up the streets like it’s the O.K. Corral,” he snapped as we walking into a department store.

“Every geek for miles heard you popping off rounds,” the black guy said. There were dozens of biters banging on the windows outside to get to us.

“You just rand the dinner bell,” the blonde girl piped in. “What the Hell were you doing out there anyway?”

“Trying to flag the helicopter,” I told her and she rolled her eyes.

“You must have been hallucinating. It happens,” a skinny black woman said in a soft tone.

“No. We saw it,” Rick snapped. I put my hand on his shoulders to calm him.

“Hey, T-Dog, try that CB. Can you contact the others?” the Hispanic guy asked the black guy who grabbed my arm earlier.

“Others? The refugee center?” Rick asked them all.

“ Yeah, they’ve got biscuits waiting in the oven for us,” the black woman sarcastically told him. Neither of us had any chances to respond because we heard gunshots from the roof.

“Oh, no. Is that Dixon?” Andrea turned and ran for the roof and the rest of us followed. The gunshots continued as we reached the top.

“Dixon, are you crazy?” The Hispanic guy who I’ve figured out is Morales asked the redneck on the roof.

“Hey, now. You outta be more polite to a man with a gun. Only common sense,” he said casually as if he drawing more biters to us wasn’t a big deal.

“Man, you’re wasting bullets we ain’t even got and you’re bringing more down on our asses! Just chill!” T-Dog shouted in desperation to get through to the man known as Dixon.

“Hey, it’s bad enough I have this taco-bender on my ass and now I gotta take orders from you? That’ll be the day,” Dixon told T-Dog.

“That’ll be the day? You got something you want to tell me?” T-Dog asked him. Morales tried convincing him to just leave it alone but T-Dog wasn’t having it.

“I’ll tell you the day Mr. Yo. It’s the day I take orders from a nigger.” T-Dog instantly went off and attacked him but Dixon easily got on top. Dixon beat T-Dog relentlessly until Rick smacked him with the butt of a riffle and got on top of him. He whipped his hand cuffs out and cuffed Dixon to the roof. “Who the Hell are you, man?”

“Officer Friendly,” Rick said plainly. 

“Guys like you give rednecks a bad name,” I told Dixon as Rick checked out Dixon’s gun. 

“Screw you,” he said.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Rick quickly defended me.

“Yeah? Well screw you, too,” Dixon spit back. Rick instantly put his gun up to Dixon’s head.