“How many other groups are there around here?” she asked him. One, she was curious to know because she was curious to know if people were trying to return to civility. Two, she wanted to know if she would have to worry about hordes of people, living and dead, swarming her. It was just her against these odds. Not exceptionally great odds, but she knew how to handle herself. “You talk a lot,” she added bluntly. “Trusting people in these situations will get you killed or worse.”
Fox couldn’t help but chuckle at her observation. “Yeah, I do. I’m not worried about dying. If I trust the wrong person and end up a walker, so be it.” He said with a small shrug. “Besides, people normally leave me alone because I’m ‘off-putting’,” he said. His fingers quoted off-putting. Even though he tried to be normal, he couldn’t quite get the hang of it. “There are quite a few groups around here. Some stick to themselves, other like to meddle. Not that, you know, meddling is a bad thing, but I just don’t understand the need. There are the Roamers, nicknamed because we have our base so far away from everyone. The Community, the, I don’t know, Disneyland of Scottsdale. The Survivors, they keep to themselves, but at least we know a bit about them. There is this one group that is...very secretive...and the Minutemen. They want to be heroes and save kittens from trees and what not,” he said listing the groups he knew about.