Georgian Redneck

Chapter 24- "Adios Amigos"

Jack stands awkwardly next to me, looking at everyone in our small group. Maybe in fear? Curiosity? Rick called them all out to meet him. I've seen some of them take their knifes with them just incase. Some people are looking at him with curiosity, some look scared. But Beth has a flirtatious smile on her pink lips.

If Jackie, let's call him that, was 18 years old, I wouldn't mind that. But he isn't. He looks to be in his late 20's. And the thought of Beth with this guy... No. Just no. I mean, I know that Daryl is older than me by about 12 years. But she's... Just no. Plus, he's new here.

"This is Jackson Bruce. Jack. Rick and I agreed to let him stay. Anyone got anything against that, talk to either of us. Otherwise, he'll be joining our group. He's not dangerous, so don't worry about that. We also need more people. Welcome him with open arms, please. I guess this is the usual shit you say while introducing a new person, so adios amigos." I announce to the quiet group and walk into the giant black house, leaving Jack alone with the group.

Bitch move, I know. But hey, what else was there to say? And anyway, why's Rick letting me introduce him? Maybe because since he's my responsibility, well, it's my responsibility to introduce him and stuff. Not that I really mind.

I glance at my watch while passing the fireplace and see it's 8:17 pm. It got late quite quickly. Well, if we're going to scavenge the remaining eight houses tomorrow, we ought to get a good nights sleep. No point in us walking around like mindless idiots not knowing what to do. Sort of like walkers. God I hate those foul canibal assholes. My point is that we should stay here tonight. Secure house, not many windows and only three exits.

I'm leaning against the black wall by the door as everyone piles into the house, Rick standing on the second step of the staircase to direct all attention to him. He's really tall now. I've never really payed much attention to his height, but you could say that he is average.

"We'll stay here for tonight. It looks safe, but we'll still have people on watch. Diana and Jack take first watch. T-Dog and I will take the next." Rick announces. The group nods and starts going in different directions. So much for getting sleep tonight. Maybe tomorrow night.

I can see Daryl doesn't like this idea one bit by the glare on his face, but he'll have to suck it up. Nothing will change my mind about him. Nothing. Nobody. He's all tense and eyeing Jackson up and down. Poor Jackie. But honestly, Rick probably wants me to stay with Jack to keep watch over him.

I'm about to leave the full room when Rick's hand rests on my shoulder. "Be careful. Keep an eye on him as well. Us two will keep tabs on him, make sure he won't kill us in our sleep" he whispers, his stubble lightly tickling my neck. If Daryl was pissed before, he's raging now. But this is Rick. He has a wife and a son. A no-good wife, but he still loves her. I hope. Plus, we're just 'friends'. If the few words we exchange can be called that. Why am I even over-analysing this.

I give him a quick nod and he gives my shoulder a not so light squeeze, taking Carl's hand and walking up the grand staircase with him. Carl's a sweet little thing. But he's not a child anymore. He's about 13 now. A teenager. A badass teenager. Him with a gun is actualy a little intimidating.

'Teenagers scare the living shit out of me'

Really? An MCR song is what I think of? Gosh dang it. I swear to god I'm in too deep with music...

T-Dog hands me and Jack a gun each with a nod and walks to the black leather sofa in the corner of the living room. The sofa is leather and rather small, so I'm guessing he'll have a sore back in the morning. I mean, c'mon. There are two floors with bedrooms he could sleep in.

Ammo is not to be wasted. We have really little of it left, ever since the farm got overran. So the rule is 'dont shoot unless you absolutely have to'. Well, I guess nobody grabbed the bag with all our arsenal in it...

Jack looks like he's skilled with guns. He checks for ammo like a pro and that kind of scares me. What the hell did he do before this? Not my bussines anyway. But I'm a naturaly curious person. Curiosity is my weak point, I guess. Curiosity killed the cat. But satisfaction brought it back.

We walk out of the depressing house and Jack shuts the doors, coming to sit next to me on the wooden porch steps, tension rolling off him heavily. He's a bit taller than Daryl, meaning he's a lot taller than me. Well, by about 20cm or so.

But honestly. How can anyone have lived in that black, depressing house by their sheer will? That's beyond me, to be quite frank. I mean, I do like black but that's a bit too much black in my opinion. Although the house is quite cool.

"So, you're Diana?" He asks, his voice deep and raspy. He seems timid and all, but I bet you that once he settles in, he'll be a social butterfly. Maybe even the jokester of our group. That is something this group needs. Cheering up.

I look around the long street and make sure no walkers are headed down our way, but get dissapointed when I see one two houses down. He's seemed to have noticed us, because he's snapping his ugly teeth and stumbling faster in our direction. Just perfect. I really fucking hate walkers.

"Diana Black. That's me." I chuckle and stand up, taking my machete out of its holder. I wait for the ugly skank to get to me. No way I'm wasting my energy on walking towards the killing machine that's coming towards me anyway.

The walker's about to reach for my hand but the sharp blade of my machete pierces through its skull before he manages. Suck on that. A small giggle escapes me as I thing of the weirdest thing. Imagine my dad seeing me. He'd be proud, no doubt. Maybe even surprised and scared a little. But isn't it a little psycho giggling while I'm killing a walker? Huh...

I pull the blade out of its head and go back to sit on the steps, sitting down next to a grinning Jack. What's he grinning about? "You're good. Anyway, why did you- How did you know I wasn't a danger to this group?" Turning to me, the grin disappearing and a frown finding its way to his pale face. But not as pale as Beth. Hell, she's like a fricking ghost. Casper himself. Or, well, herself.

"I used to be a children's psychologist for six years. I can read body language pretty well. Right now, you're uncertain. About the group. About Rick. About me. We're not dangerous. We jut have a rough past. It's shaped us to be who we are today. Our farm was overran three or four days ago. That old man that would look like Santa Claus if he grew a beard? That's Hershel. It was his farm. He's got two daughters. The short-haired woman that goes around with the Korean and the blonde teenager. Maggie and Beth Greene. Korean man? That's Glenn. He's generally friendly so I think you'll get alon with him. T-Dog is the one that gave us these guns. He doesn't talk much. Carol is the woman with the grey hair. She's a bitch, but I'm not really saying that to influence your opinion on her. Woman with long, brown hair and the little boy are Lori and Carl. Rick's wife and son. She's pregnant. The man with the badass crossbow? Daryl Dixon. He won't hesitate to either kill or threaten you if you overstep a boundary. And that's our small, damaged group. I hope you settle in well if you want to stay with us." I finnish, giving him a slight, broken smile.

That was one hell of a speech. I'm sort of breathless. Dang son. Now I know that I shouldn't speak so much. It's a lot of effort. I can't even remember the last time I spoke that much.

The tension coming off him decreases noticeably and he slumps against the black railings, sighing in... Relief? I guess.. "What about you? Spill the beans, newbie" I grin and play punch him in the shoulder lightly. Jack seems okay so far. Well, as okay as someone like him can be.

"Also, don't waste ammo. We're low on that shit."

(A/N)
Another update! Yay! Thanks for all the votes/views/comments, they really make my day!
Merci!