The Third Dixon [The walking dead]

Chapter thirteen

"I think we've got about a day's worth of water left," Measi said, glancing into her bag and shifting the bottles around before looking back at Rick. "We're lucky it cooled off a little, but—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

Carl and Michonne had fallen a little too far behind, both balancing along opposite sides of the train tracks like tightrope walkers. Measi frowned.

"What are you doing?" she called out.

"Winning a bet," Carl answered, arms stretched wide as he steadied himself.

"In your dreams," Michonne shot back, mirroring him, though she wobbled dangerously to one side.

"I'm still on," Carl said confidently.

He suddenly jerked toward Michonne, trying to scare her, nearly losing his own balance in the process. Measi laughed, and Michonne did too.

"Don't jinx yourself, Sheriff," Measi called as Carl scrambled to steady himself again.

Rick glanced between them before walking closer. "This might go on a while," he said dryly. "Maybe we can speed this up."

"Yeah, you're right," Michonne said. "Shouldn't be fooling around. We should probably—Carl!"

She lunged toward him, arms out, trying to scare him back. Instead, she lost her footing and tumbled off the track with a grunt. Carl threw his hands into the air.

"I win. Pay up."

He held out his hand as Michonne unzipped her bag, revealing a Big Cat and a Cruncho. Rick and Measi exchanged a glance. Measi caught the small smile tugging at Rick's lips—it had been a while since she'd seen that.

"Is that really the last Big Cat?" Carl asked, hovering his hand over the bag as if weighing his options. After a moment, he grabbed the Big Cat.

"Oh, come on," Michonne protested.

"Hey, you said winner's choice."

She sighed but nodded. "Go ahead. Take it. It's yours. You won it fair and square."

She shoved the Cruncho back into her bag, but Carl broke off a piece of the candy bar and held it out to her, smiling.

"Come on. We always share."

Measi shook her head, stepping ahead of them. "I guess we can't have a candy bar to ourselves around here."

Laughter followed her as the others hurried to catch up, their footsteps echoing along the tracks. For a moment—just a moment—the world felt lighter, like it hadn't completely fallen apart yet.

The tracks stretched ahead of them, two rusted lines cutting through the trees like a promise and a warning all at once. Measi kept walking at the front beside Rick, the steady rhythm of boots on metal and gravel grounding her more than she wanted to admit.

They walked on.

The woods pressed in on both sides, close enough that Measi could hear branches creak and leaves shift with every breeze. Her hand rested near the grip of her knife, habit more than fear, while her sniper stayed secure against her back. Even with the joking behind her, she stayed alert, counting steps, watching shadows, listening for anything out of place.

After a while, the laughter faded into comfortable quiet.

Rick glanced at her. "You holding up?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Better than I was on my own."

He gave a small grunt of understanding and adjusted the strap of his rifle. "We'll keep moving till we find a spot to rest. No sense pushing too hard."

Measi looked ahead, following the tracks as they disappeared into the distance. Terminus was still just an idea—words on a sign, a star on a map—but walking like this, together, made it feel possible. Not safe. Not guaranteed.