Unbreakable threads

Chapter One Hundred And five: Pete needs to go.

Alyssa's muscles burned as she helped Glenn and Eugene lift Tara's limp body, their combined effort moving her as quickly as they could without causing further harm. Glenn's voice was urgent, commanding, a clear sign of the panic creeping into his words.

"We get her to the infirmary NOW!" he shouted, his face set in a mask of determination despite the raw grief that clung to him. His pace quickened, and Alyssa matched it, her heart pounding in her chest as she focused on the task at hand—getting Tara the help she needed.

They moved in sync, a tense, frantic rhythm that only deepened the gravity of the moment. Tara's bloodied face and the steady rise and fall of her chest were all Alyssa could focus on as they made their way down the street. She couldn't afford to think about anything else—not the loss of Noah,, not the growing weight of everything they had already lost.

Rick's voice broke through the chaos, calling out from behind them.

"What's going on?!" he shouted, his urgency mirroring Glenn's.

Alyssa's feet pounded against the ground as she turned to glance back, her breath coming in quick gasps. She could see him and Carol running down the street, moving fast, their faces twisted with concern.

"Tara's hurt," Alyssa called back, her voice strained with emotion. "Noah didn't make it. Neither did Aidan. Someone needs to tell Deanna!"

Rick's face tightened as the gravity of the situation hit him. He nodded sharply to Carol, and they both pushed ahead, heading in the direction of the community's leadership. Deanna needed to be told about the losses—about the consequences of the mission, about the sacrifice it had cost- her son.

Alyssa didn't look back. Her focus was solely on Tara now, the woman in her arms, the blood that stained her clothes. She couldn't let herself break. Not yet. There was still too much to do. Too many people left to protect.

They reached the infirmary, the door swinging open, and Alyssa didn't hesitate. She helped lay Tara down as quickly as they could, her eyes scanning the bloodied woman's face, praying she wasn't too late to save her. The chaos of the moment, the grief, and the pain would have to wait. Tara needed her now.

Alyssa stepped back, her heart aching as Rosita rushed past her and to Tara's side. She couldn't help but feel like an outsider in that moment. Rosita had been so much closer to Tara on the road, sharing experiences that Alyssa had never fully been a part of. It felt right for Rosita to be the one to help, to take control. Alyssa had only shared brief moments with Tara—light conversations, some teasing about their shared struggles, the rare moments of understanding about their sexuality. Nothing deep enough to call it a true bond, not like Rosita had with her.

Glenn, too, stepped aside, his eyes lingering on Tara for a moment before he looked away, the weight of everything crashing down on him. They both moved quietly into the street, away from the infirmary doors, which were now closed behind them.

Glenn sighed deeply as he sat down on the curb, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. Alyssa hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, before she sat down next to him. The street felt quieter now, the weight of the day pressing in on both of them. She didn't need to ask to know that Glenn was struggling. She felt the same.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Tara's bloodied body in the infirmary, the aftermath of Noah's death—everything was too fresh, too painful.

Finally, Glenn broke the silence with a quiet sigh, his voice thick with sorrow. "Noah..." His words faltered as he looked down at the ground, as if the mere mention of his name made everything even harder to accept. "It was on the mission... We were trying to get out, but there were walkers everywhere. We made it to the truck, but... Noah... Noah was trapped."