FALLING APART daryl dixon

FORTY THREE - A FATHER'S FURY

The man's heart raced like a rabbit as he stood at the prison fence, his eyes widening in disbelief. A dark figure approached, carrying red baskets filled with formula. It struck him like a lightning bolt—something was definitely wrong. And worst of all, his daughter, Alycia, was nowhere to be found.

The man gripped his colt python tightly, his knuckles turning white with fear. The woman's slow, deliberate steps only added to his growing sense of unease. With each passing moment, the weight of impending doom settled heavier on his shoulders.

As she finally reached the fence, the man's breath caught in his throat. It was her—the bearer of bad news, the messenger of disaster. Seeing her with the very supplies Alycia, Glenn and Maggie had set out to get sent a chill down his spine.

A surge of realization washed over him. Something had gone terribly wrong, and his daughter was at the center of it all. Desperation gnawed at his insides as he grappled with the terrifying truth. Where were they? What had happened? Were they safe?

With determination fueled by parental love, the man knew he had to act. He couldn't sit idly by while his daughter was in danger. Stealing himself for the task ahead, he vowed to find Alycia and bring her back home, no matter the obstacles in his way.

The woman Rick Grimes found lying unconscious was quickly brought inside, the man rushing to her aid with a sense of urgency. As he knelt beside her, his gaze met hers, and she instinctively reached for her sword. But before she could grasp it, the man intervened, kicking the weapon out of her reach.

- We're not gonna hurt you unless you try something stupid first - The man assured her firmly.

- Rick! - A new voice broke in, drawing the woman's attention to a man with a sleeveless shirt. It was Daryl Dixon. His raised eyebrows betrayed his surprise. - Who the hell is this? - He questioned.

Rick turned to Daryl.

- You wanna come in here? - Daryl asked, his tone calm but commanding.

- Everything alright? - Rick inquired.

- You're gonna wanna see this - Daryl replied, and Rick instructing his son, Carl, to grab some bags. As Carl moved to comply, the woman's eyes followed him.

- We'll keep these safe and sound - Rick assured her, holding up her sword. - The doors are all locked. You'll be safe here. And we can treat that - He added, gesturing to her gunshot wound.

- I didn't ask for your help - The woman hissed defiantly.

- Doesn't matter - Rick stated firmly. - Can't let you leave.

The redneck man closed the barred door with a heavy thud, the sound echoing through the silent room as he locked it securely. Michonne, still recovering from her injuries, immediately tried to rise and peer through the door's bars to see what was happening outside.

Through the door's slits, she caught sight of a weary-looking woman with gray hair cradling the baby that the blonde girl had been holding earlier. "The girl from the outlet, she's the boy's sister," Michonne thought to herself, noting the family resemblance. Judging by the baby's cries, it seemed likely that their mother hadn't survived childbirth.

Before long, Rick and the other man entered the common area, their footsteps heavy on the floor.

- We can tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water, and then send you on your way. But you're gonna have to tell us how you found us and why you were carrying formula - Rick stated, his voice firm yet not unkind.

Michonne took a deep breath, steeling herself to recount what had happened.

- The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with two pretty girls - She began, watching Rick's reaction closely. His brow furrowed in concern as he listened, his eyes wide with shock.