Daughter of the Fallen

Always Accountable

After a while, Daryl had finally met up with the three of us again.

Rick had reported back a while after we heard the gunshots to tell us he was fine and that he had gotten back home. It turns out Alexandria had been attacked by a group called the Wolves and that, while there were some Alexandrian casualties, the majority of us were okay and no one from our main group had died.

I picked up my walkie talkie.

"Alright," I told Daryl.

"That's twenty miles?" he asked.

"It will be. 642 is a mile ahead. We gotta put distance between us and them before the turnoff."

My dad turned to my mom. "So floor it," he told her.

"Alright," Daryl said as drove ahead of us. "Try to keep up."

I chuckled. "Daryl, have you looked at this car? Believe me, we wanna get home, too."

"Bree," my mom said. "Check behind us and see how far back they are."

Looking behind me, I noted the greatly increasing distance between us and the walkers.

"We're good," I told her.

She nodded and we followed Daryl, turning onto 642.

I got antsy at the thought of getting back home but one thought kept entering my mind. Though he thinks they're still alive, Rick said that the group got separated from Glenn and Nicholas. While I couldn't physically care less about Nicholas, I was really worried about Glenn. I just kept hoping he was alive.

I was ripped out of my thoughts as a shower of bullets came through the windows of the car. I immediately ducked down, covering my head with my arms as my mom tried to drive away while protecting herself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl crash his motorcycle from trying to dodge the bullets.

"Daryl!" I called as my mom continued to drive.

I was able to see that there were sharpshooters on the side of the road and a car that was following us with a gun.

My mom ended up getting so off track that she was heading for a fence.

My dad and I braced ourselves as we crashed through it, coming to a jolting halt.

"Get your guns and get out of the car!" my dad ordered.

My mom got her rifle while I got my 9mm and we quickly got out of the car.

We ran over and started shootings at the car that had been following us.

After putting tons of bullet holes in the vehicle, we finally lowered our guns.

As I put my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath, my dad pulled out his knife and started for the car.

My mom grabbed his arm. "Leave it," she told him.

He turned and gave her a smirk. "I'm just gonna give it a last little polish."

Straightening up, I gave him an incredulous look. "Why do you have that grin?"

"We won, darlin'," he answered honestly.

"There could be more," my mom warned.

As if on cue, we heard the sound of tires screeching in the distance.

My mom gave my dad an "I told you so" look as we started to move.

"Screw it," my dad agreed and we started running in the opposite direction.