Too Far Gone // D. Dixon

chapter thirty-three

They had gone back to Daryl's bike. It had taken some time and some convincing, but they wanted to go back. To see Alexandria. If Daryl trusted them, then Maren would too.

"We can walk it from here, till we meet up with our friends. They got a car. You can ride with them." Daryl spoke to them as he walked, uncovering his hidden bike as he did so. Maren helped him clear the leaves as the trio stood back.

The man looked around before asking, "How many friends you say there were?" 

Daryl met his gaze, his voice steady, "I didn't. There's two of 'em."

The man's brow furrowed, "Where are they?" he pressed, a hint of suspicion in his tone, "How do you know they even got away? That they didn't get taken?" Truth was, they didn't know. But they certainly wanted to find out. But, like Daryl had said before, Sasha and Abraham were strong as all hell; they could hold their own.

Daryl's jaw tightened, the worry for his friends' well-being evident in his expression, "I don't..." he admitted, his voice trailing off as he began to push the bike in the direction they had come from just hours before.

Suddenly, the ominous click of a gun being cocked echoed through the forest, and Daryl froze.
Maren whirled around, her eyes flashing with a mixture of disbelief and rage.

"Are you fucking serious?" she spat, her words dripping with venom, "After everything we did?"

The man sighed, his shoulders slumping with what seemed like genuine remorse, "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

One by one, the group disarmed Daryl and Maren, stripping them of their hard-earned weapons and supplies. Maren looked to Daryl, perhaps they had made a mistake in trusting these people, but she knew that Daryl's instincts were often right. But they took everything. The guns, weapons...all of it. Maren had looked to Daryl, letting him take the lead. Maybe that had been a mistake. After all, if it had been up to her...the trio would all be dead right now.

WIth one last glance from Sherry, she spoke, "We're sorry."

Maren sent her a deadly glare as she uttered, "You're gonna be."

Daryl remained silent, his mind racing with a dozen different scenarios, each more dire than the last. They had been in tight spots before, and they would find a way out of this one too.

                                                                                - TOO FAR GONE -

Maren's eyes scanned the abandoned truck, a sudden hope flickering to life within her, "You think it'll run?" she asked, her gaze settling on Daryl as he approached the vehicle. Daryl wasted no time, quickly dispatching the lone walker that occupied the driver's seat with a deft swipe of his knife.

He paused for a moment, inspecting the truck's condition, "Worth a shot," he said, his voice gruff but tinged with cautious optimism.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Daryl turned the key in the ignition, the engine sputtering to life with a reassuring rumble. Maren couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh, her smile wide and infectious.

"See?" she said, her eyes shining with pride, "I told you we'd make it out, we always do." Daryl paused, his callused fingers gripping the steering wheel as he turned to face Maren.

For a moment, the weight of their ordeal seemed to fall away, and in the quiet intimacy of the truck's cabin, their eyes met, conveying a depth of understanding that words could not. Slowly, almost instinctually, Daryl leaned in as his gaze flickering down to Maren's lips. The tension between them crackled with an electric charge, and in that fleeting instance, their lips met in a tender yet passionate kiss.

It was a fleeting moment of respite, a brief break from the constant threat that loomed all around them. But it was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found – in each other, in the bonds they had forged, and in the determination to keep fighting, no matter what.

Pulling away, Daryl's expression was one of quiet resolve, "Damn right," he murmured, his hand reaching out to give Maren's a gentle squeeze. Maren smiled at him, lovingly squeezing back. 

With a renewed sense of purpose, they set off, their destination clear – to find Sasha and Abraham and regroup with the rest of their group.

The road ahead would undoubtedly be treacherous, but they knew that together, they could face any challenge that came their way. As the truck rumbled down the deserted road, Maren and Daryl steeled themselves for the trials that lay ahead.

- TOO FAR GONE -

Picking up Sasha and Abraham had been easier than they thought it would be. It was what they'd found in the road that had been the hard part.

"Why don't you come on out, join us in the road?" One of biker men spoke, watching as everyone vacates the vehicle, "That's great. It's going well right out of the gate."

Great, Maren thought, another group of people to deal with. 

Maren crossed her arms in front of her chest, "What the fuck is this? You some sort of highway robbery club or something?"

The man laughs but raises his gun again, "Now, step two, hand over your weapons."

The group doesn't move, "Why should we?" Daryl's tone is unmistakably defiant.

"Well, they're not yours." The man retorted, as if stating a fact. Maren rolled her eyes at that, watching as the men didn't budge. Well, shit.

Sasha fought back a laugh, "Whose are they?"

"Your property now belongs to Negan."

Maren felt her skin grow pale at that name. What were the chances of it being him? If it was, and If these people knew him...then she'd have a real chance at finding him.

"And if you can get your hands on a tanker, you're people our person wants to know...So let's get those sidearms, shall we? Right now." The man orders, and ever so reluctantly, the group is forced to give in to his demands, "Thank you."

Abraham sends the man a sour glance, making the man have to address him directly, "If you have to eat shit, best not to nibble. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. It goes quicker."

Sasha speaks again, pulling his attention from Abraham, "Who are you people?"

"I get the curiosity, but we have questions ourselves. And we'll be the ones asking them while we drive you back to wherever it is you call home. Take a gander at where you hang your hats..." He speaks as if it's already done, "First though, your shit. What have you got for us?"

Daryl scoffs, "Yeah, you just took it."

"Come on!" The man yells angrily, "I mean, can we not, okay? There's more...there is always more."

"Are you fucking deaf?" Maren nearly growls, she was so frustrated with strangers at the moment to worry about biting her tongue, "That's all we have, dumbass."

"I'd watch your tone, bitch..." The man starts, but stops himself from getting any closer when Daryl step protectively in front of Maren, "Tee...take my man to the back of the truck, start inside the back bumper, work your way to the front. Go."

They start looking through the truck, pulling Daryl away from Maren. But Abraham speaks anyway, "Who's Negan?"

"You see, usually we introduce ourselves by just popping one of you right off the bat. But you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you're sportin' dress blues, for Christ's sake..." He says, "And, like I said, we're gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone whose friend or friends you've just killed?

The silence was palpable.

"But I told you not to ask any questions...And then what does this ginger do?" He speaks with clear malice, "So that's that. I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me-" With that, he cocks his gun. 

"Wait!" Sasha shouts in an attempt to shot the shooting from starting, her voice startling Abraham, "Wait. You don't have to do this-"

"Shut up-" Abraham stops her, but Sasha retorts.

"I am talking to the man..." Sasha whispers, trying to seem less scared than she really is. But this was quite the predicament.

"No, you're not..." the man sighs, his gun suddenly dropped, "I'm not gonna kill you. Wait, wait..."

He pauses, as if he's contemplating something just before raising his gun once again, "You know what? Yes, I am."

Right after the words leave his lips, there's a sudden wave of heat. A field of orange appears in Maren's vision, as she's knocked back a couple of feet. As she opens her eyes, all of the bikers are dead. Burnt in a fiery blaze.

"Holy shit..." Maren says, in a state of shock. Looking at Daryl, she sees what he's holding onto. A damn grenade launcher. Damn. 

"Son of a bitch was tougher than he looked." Daryl said, letting his aim fall as he helped Maren to her feet. She smirked at him, looking him over for injuries.

"Fuck, Daryl...you're bleeding. Did he cut you?" Maren says as she looks at the gash on his back, he nods, "Let's get you fixed up at home." Maren grabs a towel, holding it against his back. There wasn't too much blood, which was a good sign. He was gonna be just fine.

"Yes, ma'am." Daryl says, smiling back at Maren. He was glad they were in the clear, at least for now. They'd seen enough of strangers for one day.

They needed, more than anything, to get back home.

Abraham analyzed the scene before them, "What a bunch of assholes..." Abraham spits at the corpses, speaking to his hatred, "Nibble on that."