In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 59: Little Pig

I lay in our empty bed, facing Daryl's side. My hand traced the hollow where he used to sleep, the indentation still warm in memory. I held back the tears—something I'd been doing far too often these past few days.

A soft knock sounded at the door. I didn't bother looking—I already knew it was Carl. He'd made it his routine to check on me every morning, just to make sure I was still holding it together.

I heard his footsteps cross the room, then felt the bed dip slightly as he sat at the edge.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, like he was afraid the wrong words might shatter me.

I glanced down at him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I'm okay, Carl."

He shook his head. "You're not. And that's okay."

I sat up a little, my hair falling loosely around my shoulders. "I have to be. People are counting on me. Besides I've got a run to go on."

"Let me come with you," he offered without hesitation.

I shook my head. "No. It's fine, Carl. I need to do this alone—clear my head." I placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Thank you, though."

He nodded, though the reluctance in his eyes said everything. He didn't agree, but he didn't press me either.

I sat on the porch, lacing up my boots before heading for the front gates. 

On my way, I saw Eugene sitting on a chair tinkering with something on his lap. 

"Whatcha doing there, Eugene?" I asked squinting against the sunlight. 

"I'm repairin' this portable audio system for them. We'll have a perfectly respectable music player when they arrive. I'm dealing in certainties, and I'm doing my part to give them what they want."

He was interrupted when the roaring of vehicles, trucks, and motorcycles approaching the gate.

I stared at the gate, hatred in my eyes as I watched his silhouette arroach the gate whistling. 

He knocked on the gate three times with his bat. "Little pig, little pig, let me in!" 

None of us moved, so Spencer who was standing near the gate took it upon himself to open it. 

"Well?" Negan said as Spencer just stood there.

Spencer looked around at the several vehicles behind him. "Um, who are you?" 

Negan smiled. "Oh, you better be jokin'. Negan, Lucille. I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression."

A wave of panic surged through me, my chest tightening. Then I felt someone squeeze my arm, I looked up to see Rick walking past me to meet Negan. 

"Well, hello, there." Negan looked to Rick. "Do not make me have to ask." He said sternly. 

"You said a week." Rick said as he opened the gate. "You're early." 

"I missed you." Negan chuckled as he took a glance behind himself at a walker that was weaving its self in and out of the trucks. "Oh, Rick come on out here. Watch this. Calling it!" Negan strolled backwards towards the walker and took a single swing at it before it dropped to the ground. Negan laughed. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy! Alright, everybody. Let's get started. Big day."

I glanced around Rick, my pulse quickening as I took in the crowd behind him. There were more of them than I expected—more than us. That realization settled like a weight in my chest. I let my eyes move from face to face, waiting for the one I dreaded most. Tyler. And I found him. But then I saw Daryl. He was standing beside Tyler and Dwight, and everything else faded. His face—God. The black eye, the busted lip... He didn't have those when he left. I felt it instantly, a sharp, hot twist in my gut. Anger. Not just at what had been done to him, but at the fact that I hadn't been there. That I hadn't stopped it.