Haunted | Daryl Dixon

42. Cost of a Name

"He's gone." Daryl grunted, gently but firmly shaking Evelyn's shoulder.

"What?" She blinked up at the man, sleep not only clouding her mind still, but her vision as well, making all of her senses foggy. Her voice was a bit scratchy.

Those damn blue eyes had a determined look set in them. Had she actually been coherent, Wright would have tilted her head to the side to admire them further, "That fucker we hit with the truck, he's gone."

That immediately snapped the woman out of whatever drowsy state she had been in, her half-lidded eyes shot open and her mind began racing. She threw her legs over the side of hers and Daryl's bed- which, until twenty seconds ago, she had thought him to still be dead asleep beside her in.

Mere seconds passed and Evelyn already swiped her gun from the bedside table and was rushing out of the room, Daryl hot on her heels.

Caspian and Daniel exited their room opposite of hers at the same time she did, evidently somehow already being aware of the situation. They both held weapons as well.

The four all rushed out of the house, none of them having any idea where to look, but movement caught Evelyn's attention from the corner of her eye.

She shifted her gaze until it settled on the Grimes's house, more specifically, an upstairs window that showcased Carl, standing above the staircase with a gun pointed at Jesus's head.

"This way," The words tumbled out of her mouth after she had already begun swiftly moving and entering the house without permission, gun of her own drawn and aimed at the top of the stairs.

The others filed in behind her, Daryl coming to stand by her side as they half-way ascended the stairs, furious gazes pointed at the man.

Carl's eyes flickered up and met with Evelyn's, which were silently asking him if he was alright. He gave a half nod in return, to which she was grateful.

Not even a second later, Rick and Michonne stumbled out of the room adjacent to Carl and Jesus, the former not wearing a shirt.

"It's-It's okay." Michonne stuttered out, clearly flustered, not having expected people to be standing there, watching them.

Evelyn's eyes widened briefly as she looked between the two of them.

"You said we should talk." Rick spoke with more assertiveness, throwing a shirt over his head, "So, let's talk."

A grin slowly split out on Wright's face, despite the circumstances and she freed one of her hands to hit against Daryl's shoulder repeatedly, her gaze still lingering on Grimes and Michonne, "I told you!" She cheered, making faint blushes creep up on the two faces.

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Everyone milled around the dining room table of the Grimes's household, all wearing similar hardened expressions, each and every pair of eyes trained on Jesus, who was sitting in a chair in front of all of them, hands bound.

Evelyn stood, leaned up against the wall, Daniel and Caspian at her side, all three of them with their arms crossed over their chests.

"So, how'd you get out?" Rick started, his seat closest to Jesus, his body language relaxed, while his tone was anything but.

"One guard can't cover two exits. Or third floor windows." The prisoner answered nonchalantly, as if it were that simple, as if he didn't wake them all up in the middle of the night and break into one of their houses, "Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes in order, right?"