The Third Dixon [The walking dead OC x OC]

Chapter fourteen

Two days later, the four of them had settled into a fragile rhythm, carving out a small, temporary camp just off the tracks. The fire Measi had built crackled softly, flames licking at the underside of a dented can balanced on a makeshift metal grate scavenged from the roadside. Smoke curled upward, thin and pale against the darkening sky.

Measi sat close to the warmth, knees pulled up, watching the fire as if it might answer questions she didn't know how to ask. Rick crouched nearby and finally lifted the can off the heat, steam puffing into the cool air.

He glanced around at the group. "How hungry are you, on a scale of one to ten?"

Carl didn't hesitate. "Fifteen."

Michonne snorted. "Twenty-eight."

Before Measi could even open her mouth, her stomach betrayed her with a loud, hollow growl. She froze for half a second, then sighed.

"I think that sums it up."

Carl laughed, poking at the fire with a stick while Rick let out a quiet, tired chuckle. For a moment, it almost felt normal—people sitting around a fire, complaining about hunger instead of gunshots.

"Yeah," Rick said softly, more to himself than anyone else. He straightened, rolling his shoulders. "It's been a while. I'm gonna go check the snares."

Carl's head snapped up immediately. "Can I go with you?"

Rick gave him a look that was equal parts father and teacher. "Well, how else are you gonna learn?"

Carl grinned as he stood, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Rick turned then, looking at Measi and Michonne.

"Hey. You two as well."

Measi looked up from the fire and shook her head gently. "I'm gonna hunt on my own. We'll need more food before we get anywhere near Terminus." She pushed herself to her feet, brushing dirt from her pants. "I'll meet you guys back here."

Rick studied her for a second, then nodded. He trusted her—she could see that now. Carl stepped forward and hugged her quickly, arms tight around her waist.

"Be careful," he murmured.

"You too, Sheriff," she replied, squeezing him back before letting go.

Rick, Carl, and Michonne disappeared into the trees, their shapes swallowed by the woods one by one. Measi stood there a moment longer, listening to the crackle of the fire and the distant sounds of the forest, before turning in the opposite direction—alone again, but steadier now, moving forward with purpose.

Walking through the woods calmed her in a way very few things still could. The ground was soft beneath her boots, leaves crunching quietly with every careful step. Sunlight filtered through the branches above, breaking into fractured beams that danced across her arms and the rifle slung over her shoulder. Out here—away from fences, away from the constant tension of waiting for the next disaster—her breathing finally slowed.

Being with Rick, Carl, and Michonne again had done something to her. She hadn't realized how tightly wound she'd been until she felt it ease. With them, she didn't have to keep her back pressed to a wall or her knife clenched every second. She felt... protected. Not invincible. Just not alone.

And that, inevitably, made her think of Nathan.

Her steps slowed as his face surfaced in her mind without warning—his crooked smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her like she was the only thing left in the world worth fighting for. Her chest ached, dull and constant, like a bruise that never quite faded.