Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)

Chapter 7 - Randall Culver

"Alright Glenn, go get some sleep. You look exhausted," An unfamiliar voice ordered.

I raised my head to the door, where a blonde haired woman stood just inside the shed. She had cold blue eyes and a serious expression on her face.

Glenn stood up from his seat shakily, before slowly wobbling his way out of the room. I looked past the woman, peering outside the door. It must have become well and truly morning outside, the grass looking fresh and welcoming. I really wanted to go outside and breathe in some of the fresh air, to look up into the warm blue sky, to feel the sun on my skin.

Instead I was stuck in this musty shed. It was dark, cold and uncomfortable. Not to mention the smell wafting throughout the room from Randall's leg was making my head spin.

The woman remained by the door, her nose scrunched in disgust. I honestly didn't blame her, the stale smell of blood was almost blindingly disgusting.

"Rick is coming down soon." The blonde woman said coldly. I didn't understand why everyone seemed to want us dead. They were the murderers here.

Randall's head sprung up, more out of fear than anger.

"Are you going to kill us?" He questioned, pulling tightly on his cuffed hand.

The woman didn't reply, instead she turned away and pulled the door behind her as she stepped back outside.

Randall instantly turned to me, a worried expression on his face. His brown eyes seemed pleading, but I had no idea of what to do.

"They're gonna come and get us," Randall said reassuringly, talking more to himself than to me. In my head I knew our group weren't coming to get us. They probably thought we were dead, and even if they thought we were alive, they wouldn't know where to find us.

I didn't answer, I rarely did really talk to Randall. Instead of replying, I quickly turned my head away to the opposite wall of the shed. There was a small hole in the wood, and I could see the grass outside through it.

"Ames?"

"Amy," Jane's gentle voice called to me from outside my tent. "Can you go out to the pickup and grab that tin of chopped pineapple?"

"Pineapple?" I scoffed, as she pushed back the bright green material door of my tent. "What the hell?"

"Yes, pineapple." She mocked me, before laughing at her own impression of my voice. Her freckled cheeks seemed much fuller and healthier than I'd seen them in a long time. She seemed so happy those days, almost always with a smile on her face. "You know where they are, right?"

"I think so." I nodded as I pushed the cover of my sleeping bag off of my legs. I enjoyed lying in the warmth of the bag, as it was about the only comfort item I was allowed in this group. We were only entitled to a few things each, probably because having less baggage made travelling easier.

"Have you been drawing again?" Jane asked, peering down at my legs. I quickly shoved the corner of my sketchbook deeper into the sleeping bag, before standing to my feet.

"None of your business," I teased, turning to pick up my black sneakers. I stepped into them, not bothering to tie my laces. "Have you seen Dave?"

"He's out on a trip with the others. I think they should be back soon," She sighed. I knew she hated when he went on trips with those men, never knowing if he'll come back. But, it was a part of life now. "Now go get me my pineapples," She quipped, giving me one of her quirky grins.

I ducked out from the tent, so that I was standing in the clearing. Our camp was set up in a field, so we could keep an eye out for any roamers around. Since we had a lot of people to house, there were at least sixteen different brightly coloured tents.