Unbreakable threads

Chapter one hundred and thirteen: The walker herd.

The morning sun bore down on the quarry, the sound of growling walkers echoing through the trees as Rick, Alyssa, Daryl, and the rest of the group gathered to finalize the plan. The massive herd of walkers trapped in the quarry had become a growing threat, and if they didn't act now, it was only a matter of time before the walkers broke free and overwhelmed Alexandria.

Rick stood in the center of the group, explaining the plan with his usual commanding tone. "We're gonna lead the herd out," he said, pointing to the map spread across the hood of a car. "We'll guide them along this path and steer them far away from Alexandria. Everyone has a role. Stick to it."

Alyssa stood with her arms crossed, her face set in a mask of determination, though her mind was buzzing with unease. She listened carefully, nodding along, but her sharp eyes flicked to Daryl, who stood silently to the side with his crossbow. She hadn't spoken to him more than a few words since that morning on the porch, and the thought of being near him again was enough to make her stomach twist.

Rick looked up at the group, then pointed at Alyssa and Daryl. "Daryl, you're on your bike. Alyssa, you're with him. You'll help lead the walkers."

Alyssa's head snapped toward Rick, her expression shifting to one of visible frustration. "Seriously?" she muttered, her arms dropping to her sides. She could feel Daryl's gaze flicker toward her, but she didn't look at him.

"Yes, seriously," Rick said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I need people I can trust on this. That means you two."

Alyssa clenched her jaw, biting back a retort. She wanted to protest, to demand another role, but she knew it would be pointless. Rick wasn't about to change his mind, not when lives were on the line.

Daryl stayed quiet, his face unreadable, though his grip on his crossbow tightened slightly. He didn't like the tension between them, but he also knew Rick was right—they worked well together, no matter how strained things had become.

As the group moved into position, Alyssa climbed onto the back of Daryl's motorcycle, her movements stiff and reluctant. She settled herself behind him, gripping the sides of the seat rather than holding onto him. Daryl didn't say anything, but he could feel the tension radiating off her like a storm cloud.

"You good back there?" he finally asked gruffly, glancing over his shoulder.

"Just drive," Alyssa snapped, her voice sharp and clipped.

Daryl sighed but didn't press further. He revved the engine, the roar of the bike cutting through the sound of the walkers as they began to move. The plan was in motion, and like it or not, they had to work together.

As they sped down the road, leading part of the herd behind them, Alyssa focused on the task at hand, doing her best to ignore the proximity between her and Daryl. She called out directions when needed, her voice clear and precise, and Daryl followed without hesitation. Despite the tension, their teamwork was seamless—just like it had always been.

But no matter how well they worked together, the unspoken words between them hung in the air, as heavy and oppressive as the growling herd of walkers behind them. Neither of them acknowledged it, but both felt it, lingering in the space between them as they drove on.

The roar of Daryl's motorcycle echoed through the air as Alyssa sat behind him, her eyes scanning the road and the massive herd of walkers trailing behind them. Everything had been going as planned until she noticed some of the walkers starting to veer off, straying from the main group. She immediately grabbed the radio clipped to her vest, bringing it to her lips.

"Dad, we got a situation," she said, her voice steady despite the tension. "Some of them ain't following. They're veering off the road. Looks like they're heading toward the woods."