Daughter of the Fallen

Always Accountable Part 2

By the time I woke up, my dad had gotten back and was talking to my mom.

They turned to me as I sat up.

"How'd you sleep?" my mom asked.

I shrugged. "As good as you can knowing there are undead people that are just waiting to make you their dinner outside."

She chuckled as my dad leaned against the wall.

"This our new home?" he asked.

Panic rose in my chest. "No, we're getting back to Alexandria." I looked at my mom. "Right, mom?"

She nodded. "Yes, we are. This isn't home. Stand watch or sleep?"

"The former," he answered. "Right through the night."

I sighed. "Dad, you really should get some rest."

"Ain't gonna happen," he immediately rejected. "We'll reassess in the morning."

"What do you mean?" my mom asked.

As he walked off, he answered, "What we're doing here."

•••

The next morning, my mom and I were looking out the window when my dad came back. His shirt was torn and he was carrying a duffel bag and suitcase thing.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"This, Bree, is the fruit of some off-the-chart stupidity," he answered. "Some grade A, butt steak idiocy."

"Self-awareness is a beautiful thing," my mom commented.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. He walked up and kissed my mom before hugging me.

"Look, I know this group," he pointed out. "And I know Rick. And whatever happened back there is being managed and kicked right up into it's own a*s one way or another, I know that. We got beer...and air conditioning...and walls...and each other."

He was starting to smile but I was feeling anger start to rise in my chest because I knew where he was going with this.

"The table is set for the rest of our lives," he promised. "And I hope those years to be long and fruitful. I see that time before me, and I've been feeling the urge to make some plays before the great cosmic Pete comes to cut my throat unceremoniously and I gurgle my last breath. Well, things are gonna go on for a while before then, and that hadn't occurred to me before. I've been kind of living check to check on that point."

I stepped forward.

"We're going back," I demanded, forcing my voice to remain steady but it was still a little shaky, before walking into the other room, not wanting to hear any more of what he had to say.

•••

The next day, I was sitting reading a book when I heard my dad's voice.

"Hey! Look at this!"

I looked up and watched as he came out with a navy suit on.

My mom gave him a funny look.

"What?" he asked her defensively.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Suddenly, we heard a truck approaching and we all grabbed our guns and ran to the window to see what it was.

When the driver stepped out, a huge smile spread across my face.

Daryl.

Finally.

•••

I woke up from my catnap in the truck when I heard Daryl's voice.

"Rick," he said into his walkie talkie. "You copy?"

Static was our only reply.

"Anybody?" he reached out.

Suddenly, we heard a garbled voice.

Daryl and I exchanged a glance.

"Come again?" he asked.

Finally, we got a clear response.

"Help."

My heart started beating fast. Because the voice said "Help", but more importantly, because the voice didn't belong to Rick.