The Pure and the Damned • TWD: Daryl Dixon

6. Je Suis Désolé.

When Daryl and La Tarasque fell into the walker moat below them, Dakota couldn't help but let out a yelp. She rushed over to the edge of the bridge, leaning far over the side to see if they were alive.

Sure enough, Daryl was up on his feet, stabbing every walker that came near him right in the head. It's a bit of a relief, sort of, for Dakota. She doesn't particularly like the guy, but she doesn't really want him to be torn apart by walkers.

On the other hand, she was happy to see that La Tarasque was dangling above the walkers like cake in a display window. They all swarmed toward him, grabbing at his clothes and tearing apart his legs. But Dakota wanted to kill him. She wanted to get revenge for her father and put an end to La Taraque's miserable life. So she reloaded her bow and aimed it straight down at the man's head.

And, of course, a hand landed on her shoulder. Growling, Dakota's head snapped to the side to see who it was, and it was Lou. Of course, it was Lou.

"You don't have to do this, Kota," Lou told her, her eyes wide with worry. Dakota's eyes, though, narrowed deeply with anger. "Que vous le fassiez ou non, il meurt ici." Whether you do it or not, he dies here. "You don't have to."

Dakota knew that. She knew she didn't have to. She knew that, no matter what everyone else did, La Tarasque wasn't living another day. But that thought didn't make the pain in her chest disappear. She needed to do it herself; just like he killed her dad, she would kill him. So she turned back to the edge and aimed her arrow. When she released it, Lou didn't stop her, and Dakota watched as the arrow lodged itself into La Tarasque's head, killing him instantly.

Dead. Dead. La Tarasque was dead.

But Dakota didn't feel any better now than she did one minute ago. The hurt was still there, like a cut needing to be stitched or a wound needing to be iced.

She looked at Lou to her right. Lou looked sad, too, but she quickly gathered herself and cleared her throat. "Let's save Daryl now, yes?" she said, looking around at the other children. Dakota looked around, too, and she saw that not only Lou had joined her, Ian, and Hérisson, but so had Moof. He must have been the one to let her out from where Daryl trapped her. Lou turned to Moof, who had a rope in his hands. "Donnez-lui la corde," she ordered. Give him the rope.

With the hurt that she still felt, Dakota turned toward the edge of the moat and began shooting arrows at each walker that came close to Daryl, along with the help of Hérisson and Lou while Ian and Moof held onto the rope and attached it to the horse.

"Grab the rope!" Hérisson shouted down at Daryl, who was looking up at them with urgency.

"Hurry up!" Lou added.

Dakota just kept shooting at the walkers as she watched Daryl rush to the wall with the rope, grabbing tightly onto it.

"Go! Pull!" Daryl shouted.

Moof began leading the horse back, pulling the rope and subsequently carrying Daryl up with it. When Daryl got up to the edge, Ian grabbed him by the arms and helped pull him over the wall. Reluctantly, Dakota stuck her extra arrows back into her quiver and stopped shooting at the walkers.

"Are you still better by yourself?" Lou asked Daryl with raised eyebrows. Daryl gave no answer, more focused on unwinding the rope from around him than anything else. "At least you got your horse."

"We got this, too," Hérisson added, holding out a bag for Lou to grab.

Lou opened it to see that it was a whole bunch of medicine for their teacher. "Oh, thank you," she breathed out.