New World (D.Dixon) ~rewritten~

•chapter 12• <rewrite>

"Eccedentesiast-
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(n.) Someone who hides pain, behind a smile."

< rewritten version >

Word Count — 11276

Warnings : MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH
GRIEF, MOURNING, DEATH, it's the walking dead it's gory you all should know

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Alessia's POV.

The sun had barely risen, casting a faint light over the camp as everyone sat around eating breakfast. The air was crisp, but the chill couldn't mask the tension that hung in the air. Alessia picked at her food, the events of the previous day still weighing heavily on her heart. Her mind kept drifting back to Sophia, to the moment she had pulled the trigger, to the loss that still felt too fresh, too raw. The quiet hum of conversation around her couldn't drown out the ache in her chest.

But something felt off. She wasn't the only one who noticed it. Glenn sat at the edge of the group, his gaze fixed somewhere far off, a furrow of worry etched on his face. Dale, sitting beside him, noticed too and kept glancing at him, urging him wordlessly to speak up.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Glenn cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable under the weight of their eyes.

"So... the barn's full of walkers," Glenn said, his voice faltering slightly as he looked up at them. His words hung in the air, as if they hadn't fully registered in anyone's mind.

Alessia's heart skipped a beat. Walkers? In the barn?

"What?" Daryl muttered, his fork clattering onto his plate as he turned to Glenn, his eyes narrowing. Everyone else fell silent, staring at Glenn like he'd just dropped a bombshell.

"Walkers?" Shane barked, his voice sharp with disbelief. He stood up, his chair scraping against the ground, and walked toward the barn with the others following closely behind.

The barn was about 50 yards from where they'd set up camp, tucked away behind a line of trees. It was a simple, weathered structure, nothing too special, but the idea that it was harboring walkers was a whole different story. As they approached, Shane wasted no time and went straight to the barn doors, peeking through a small crack in the wood. His body tensed as he ducked back.

A growl came from within, a low, guttural noise that sent a shiver down Alessia's spine. She stepped closer to Daryl instinctively, her hand brushing against his arm. He didn't flinch, but the anger in his eyes was palpable.

"Jesus," Alessia mumbled under her breath, unable to look away from the barn. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You cannot tell me you're alright with this," Shane muttered as he walked back to them, his voice tight with frustration.

Rick exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I'm not, but this isn't our land."

Shane spun to face him, eyes blazing. "Oh, my god. This is our lives, man!" His voice cracked with the weight of everything they'd been through, and for a moment, Alessia understood that frustration all too well.

Rick took a deep breath. "We can't just force him. This is his land."

Andrea, her face set with determination, stepped in, her voice calm but firm. "Lower your voice, Shane. We can't just sweep this under the rug."

Shane wasn't having it, though. His hands balled into fists, the tension radiating off of him. "We either need to go in there and make things right, or we leave. We've been talking about Fort Benning for how long now? It's time to make a decision."