Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Beta

The kids struggled to keep pace as we sprinted through the woods, their footfalls clumsy and uneven against the underbrush.  Branches snapped beneath their sneakers, breaths coming in ragged gasps.  It would've been funny if it weren't so damn tragic.  A sad testament to our times, that two teenagers in the prime of their youth were getting dusted by a pair of middle-aged parents who hadn't slept through the night in over a decade.

We weren't exactly Olympians ourselves, knees aching, lungs burning, hair clinging to sweat, but desperation had a way of shaving years off your body.  Fear turned us lean and fast.  Survival was a better coach than any track team.

"You two need to do more cardio," I hissed at them, grabbing Lydia's arm to keep her upright.

"I need a break," she wheezed.

"You can keep running and have a chance at living or take a break and die.  Your choice."

"Alex."  I shot Henry a glare over my shoulder only to see my husband holding him up. 

"Shut yur mouth and run boy." 

One look at the kids told me we were going to have to stop soon, or they'd just keel over and save the Whisperers the trouble.  And it wasn't like we had the luxury of a breather.  I knew it wouldn't be long before Alpha got her shit together and came back swinging.  And us?  We weren't exactly equipped to fend off the mighty Whisperers with our elite squad of two out-of-shape teenagers wheezing like they'd just jogged their first mile.

"Whatcha think Red?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to fight off a headache.  "We can't fight them out in the open.  We need a way to separate them from the dead they will undoubtable travel with.  Bad enough we're gonna face any Whisperer still standing.  We can't afford to fight off the dead too."

Daryl pressed his lips together in a hard line, hands on his hips.  "The town we passed on the way in is our best chance."

"So Lydia can stay?  We're going to protect her?"

I scowled at Henry.  "You didn't leave us a lot of options when you went off halfcocked on your own."

"I don't want to fight my own people."

Lydia sounded small and terrified, neither of which would work given our current circumstances.  I marched up to the girl, putting my hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look me in the eye.

"I will do my best to keep you from fighting, but if it comes down to it, if it's us or them...you better choose right or hope I die in the process because if you don't...and someone I love gets hurt...I will kill you myself."

"That's not helpful Alex."

"I'm not trying to be helpful Henry.  I'm being honest."  My murder face made the boy shuffle a few feet back, angling his body so he was slightly behind Daryl.  "And if I were you, I would shut the fuck up for the rest of this trip or I'm telling your Mom everything."

Henry looked like he might keel over. Not that I could blame him. Most people gave me a wide berth, and Daryl had that "I'll rip your throat out before breakfast" vibe that made you rethink every life choice you'd ever made. But Carol...Carol was on a whole other plane of terrifying. She didn't just kill you, she vaporized your soul, roasted it over an open fire, and then mailed you a bill for emotional damages. Even I, the irredeemable one according to my therapist, sometimes paused in front of one of her personal hellscapes and thought, yep...maybe this is a little bit much.

Without another word, Daryl angled us toward the little town we'd passed on the way to drag Henry's stubborn ass out of trouble.  By the time we stumbled in, night had traded places with the kind of bright, cheery morning that felt personally offensive considering everything we'd just survived.