I don't know what possessed me to talk to him. I'd love to say something about his total innocence reminded me of myself when I was younger, but I'm not sure I've ever been innocent. I guess watching him throw up after killing that zombie made me feel kinda sorry for him.
We were both a mess, covered in blood and bits of rotten flesh, just standing there in the street. It was suspiciously quiet, but I'd take the break and be grateful for it.
"How long've you been on your own?" I asked. There was nothing about him that said he had anyone else. He had that sort of defeated look.
"Long enough," he replied.
"Not so long, if that was your first one," I noted. I like to think that even through a haze of god knows what in my veins, I had gotten fairly good at judging people. You had to be to get by the way I did. He'd already decided not to trust me, and he certainly didn't like me much. To him, I was as dangerous as the walkers, and twice as merciless. He wouldn't be far wrong there. "Wanna stop being on your own?" He looked up at me, trying to hide the uncertainty in his eyes. He didn't want to be alone, but I'm guessing he didn't really want to be around me all the time. "There's a few people in the woods hiding out together. I sort of ran into them and ended up staying with them for a day. I'm sure they won't mind if you wanna join them."
After a moment's hesitation, he nodded, following me silently back towards the woodland. It wasn't a long walk, and one done best in silence, which Joe seemed happy to go along with, even if it was a bit awkward.
When we got back to the camp, it was unusually quiet. Scott and the others looked at me like some kind of poisonous spider. I arched an eyebrow.
"I'm used to that reaction, but what have I done to you guys?" I asked.
"Sophia's gone, and it's your fault," Scott snapped. I bristled, my fists balling all by themselves. I was tired and aching like fuck, but I was more than happy to beat the crap out of him again if he provoked me again.