"If you think Rick is the problem, I guess you don't know what I'm fucking capable of you asshole." - Rhea Dixon
"I guess I do have more balls even than you Shane." - Rhea Dixon
"I'm a Dixon. And I've been through a lot more hell than any of you ev...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A FEW WEEKS LATER.
The air felt sinister.
The thick clouds in the sky blocked the light of the moon, the only thing illuminating the world before Rhea Dixon- Grimes was a few odd beams that struggled to break through.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rhea was standing next to her father, Daryl Dixon on the roof of an abandoned military base, that the group was going to scout.
Rhea was focusing on the details of the wasteland- long dead trees with no hope for new leaves, buildings so old the foundations themselves had begun to crumble, cracks in the road deep enough to see right down into a dark nothing.
Xander Grimes then walked towards his wife and stood next to her. Rhea looked towards him and he nodded, telling her they were ready.
Rhea nodded and then looked towards her father, who looked at her too. The three of them walked towards the group, just as they took the large window frame off carefully and put their rope down the gap carefully.
Rhea had to admit, peering over the edge caused the bundle of nerves in her stomach to spark to life.
Xander helped her clipped herself and they shared a look. He didn't said anything to her, because his eyes spoke loude enough.
He would always watch her back, no matter what. He gave her a quick nod for encouragement before she felt herself falling backwards, the friction of wire on metal causing the cord to vibrate.
Soon enough she was floating above the sea of dead, her legs dangling freely.
The moment her toes touched the ground she unclipped the buckle, the metal hook suspended in the air. She was scanning the walls slowly, careful to keep her feet still until her eyes met a set of double doors.
At Maggie's signal she took precise steps over the clumps of bodies, narrowly avoiding limbs and articles of clothing in her attempt to reach the door.
It was like she couldn't breathe even if she wanted to, anxiety blocking her lungs from taking in dusty huffs of air.
