Chapter 43 ↣ Like Hallmark shit?

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"She's badass with a good heart, soft but strong. Unapologetic and honest. She's the type of woman you go to war beside, the type of woman you marry."

- R.H. Sin

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Daryl

IT WAS ALMOST noon. Almost time to meet face to face with The Governor.

"You sure she's up for coming?" Rick asked me, loading up the car.

I scoffed a little, handing Rick another bag. "You wanna be the one to tell 'er to stay back? Be my guest, but I ain't playing with that fire."

Rick made a face and scrunched his nose. "Good point," he muttered. He then shifted uncomfortably.

"Spit it out, man," I said.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just nice to have things a little more stable. I-I don't know if that makes any sense, considering who we're about to go and talk to but-"

There was a clanking of the metal door, causing both Rick and I to look over. Kathryn strode across the courtyard towards us. My heart leaped into my throat as she didn't avoid my gaze. There was no longer any evidence of her injuries. Her gait was back to its regular tempo and her eye was free from any bruising. It was a sight to see.

"You two bozos forgot these," she said, stopping in between Rick and I. She tossed two semi-automatics into the trunk. Flashing a smirk at me, she turned and retreated back towards the prison. Once she was inside, we could still hear her shout, "C'mon, folks, we got an appointment to uphold with Dr. Psycho."

Rick snorted out a laugh, and I resisted the urge to. "Nah, man," I told Rick. "I gotcha."

Kathryn

We were set to meet The Governor at a rundown property that was a halfway between the prison and Woodbury. I sat atop the car we had taken, a rifle by my side and my bow across my back, keeping a lookout for any sign of trouble. Daryl and Rick had gone to do a sweep of the perimeter, leaving Hershel and I at the front. I was on edge something fierce. Every sense I had available to me was heightened.

At the sound of footsteps, I whipped over my shoulder. Daryl approached the car with a grim look. "He's already in there," he said. "Sat down with Rick."

"I don't see any cars," Hershel said. "What about you, Kathryn?"

"It's been quiet," I replied.

Daryl looked up at me. "It don't feel right." He looked back down to Hershel. "Keep it running." Not a second later was there a car engine off in the distance. "Heads up." Daryl raised his bow, Hershel got out of the car, and I raised the rifle. An armored truck came through the yard across the street, stopping a little bit in front of us.

Three people got out: Andrea, the hispanic man that had locked me up, and a man with wired glasses who stuck out like a sore thumb.

"What the hell?" Daryl growled. "Why's your boy already in there?"

"He's here?" Andrea asked in a tone of voice that sent a lick of annoyance through me.

"That's what the man said," I replied. She gave a dramatic sigh before walking inside. When I looked back, I made eye contact with my captor. Surprisingly enough, little anger filled me upon seeing him. I suppose I was saving it for the real threat.

"You," he said, holding my gaze.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer," I told him. His expression didn't shift. The only thing I could read was a curious glint. Jumping from the hood of the car, I took my place next to Daryl.

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