Unbreakable threads

Chapter Eighty Five: Were eating dog now?

The group continued their relentless trek under the blazing sun, their footsteps heavy and uneven on the asphalt. The heat bore down on them, beads of sweat rolling down their faces, dampening their clothes. The air was thick and still, offering no relief as they trudged along the endless road, with woods stretching on either side.

Rick marched ahead, his focus fixed forward, his jaw tight as he tried to block out the strain and the growing tension within the group. Carl walked beside him, carrying Judith carefully in his arms, while Abraham stayed close, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of a vehicle, water, or anything that could give them a moment of reprieve.

Toward the back of the group, Alyssa lagged behind with Daryl, her pace slower than usual. Her legs ached fiercely, every step sending a dull, throbbing pain through her muscles. She gritted her teeth, refusing to complain, but the discomfort was starting to wear on her.

Daryl stopped in his tracks, adjusting his crossbow as he bent down in front of Alyssa. "C'mere," he said gruffly, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Alyssa immediately shook her head, protesting softly. "Daryl, no. You're just as tired and hot as I am. I'm not gonna exhaust you more."

Daryl turned his head slightly, fixing her with a look that shut down her objections before they could go further. "You don't weigh none," he replied firmly. "Now get on."

She hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone was watching, but the rest of the group was too focused on the grueling walk to pay attention. Reluctantly, she stepped forward and climbed onto his back. Daryl eased her up with little effort, his hands hooking under the backs of her knees, his grip firm but careful, trying to be as respectful as he could.

"Comfortable?" he asked dryly, his voice tinged with a hint of teasing as he adjusted her weight.

"Not really," Alyssa muttered, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk in her tone. "This is humiliating."

Daryl chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, well, keep that up, and I'll just dump you in the woods," he teased, starting to walk again, his steps steady despite the added weight.

Alyssa rested her chin on his shoulder, her voice softening. "Thanks, Daryl."

Daryl carried Alyssa with a quiet ease, his steps steady despite the blistering heat. Her head rested on his shoulder, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she looked completely at peace. Her legs hung loosely at his sides, her arms draped over his shoulders like she belonged there. She wasn't tense, wasn't snapping back with sarcasm—she was simply calm, clinging to Daryl like a lifeline.

But it didn't go unnoticed. A few of the others began to glance back, subtle murmurs passing between them. Even Rick, walking up ahead, cast a glance over his shoulder. His jaw clenched as he took in the sight of Daryl carrying Alyssa, sweat dripping off both of them under the relentless sun. The image stuck with him: his nineteen-year-old daughter being carried like a child, while he walked up front, hands free. Not even Carl was being carried, and he was holding Judith.

Maggie, walking near Tara and Glenn, whispered, "She's not a kid anymore." Her voice was low, but there was a touch of amusement in her tone. "And look at him... like she's the most important thing in the world."

Rick's grip on his rifle tightened as he turned back around, his steps quickening slightly. He didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes. To him, this was just more proof of what he'd been worrying about—what had been eating at him ever since  their dynamic began to shift. Whatever was going on between Daryl and Alyssa, it was too close, too intimate, and Rick didn't like it one bit.