The Third Dixon [The walking dead]

Chapter two

Andrea glanced at the treeline, her eyes sharp. "You still worrying about it?"

Lori's hands clenched at her sides. "It was a gunshot."

Daryl tightened his grip on the crossbow, holding it close to his chest, while Measi crouched slightly, scanning the woods with cold precision. Every shadow could be a walker, every sound a threat.

"We all heard it," Daryl said flatly.

Lori's voice trembled. "Why one—why just one gunshot?"

"Maybe they took down a walker," Daryl offered.

Lori glared. "Please don't patronize me. You know Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker. Or Shane. They'd do it quietly."

Carol's voice cracked as she stepped closer to Andrea. "Shouldn't they have caught up with us by now?"

Daryl's gaze swept the area. "There's nothing we can do about it, anyway. Can't run around these woods chasing echoes."

Measi stayed still, her sniper instincts kicking in despite being on foot. She didn't need to speak. Every leaf, every fallen branch, every rustle of wildlife was cataloged in her mind. She could follow the trail, see the unseen.

Daryl turned to her briefly, checking for confirmation. She merely gave a small nod, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes flicking from shadow to shadow. They'd get lost if they chased sounds. Better to stick to a methodical search.

"So, what do we do?" Lori asked, voice tight. "Same as we've been?"

"Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway," Daryl replied, voice low but firm.

Andrea laid a steadying hand on Carol's shoulder. "I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV. I'm sorry for what you're going through. I know how you feel."

Carol shook her head, fighting tears. "I suppose you do—thank you. The thought of her, out here by herself... it's the not knowing that's killin' me. I just keep hopin' and prayin' she doesn't wind up like Amy." She froze, realizing what she'd said. "Oh, God! That's the worst thing I ever said."

Andrea squeezed her shoulder. "We're all hoping and praying with you, for what it's worth."

Daryl stepped forward, voice low and edged with impatience. "I'll tell ya what it's worth—" He leaned close to Carol and Andrea, his eyes burning with disbelief at the sentiment. Measi remained a silent shadow beside him, arms crossed, detached from the notions of hope and prayer. Neither she nor Daryl had ever believed in God. "Not a damn thing. It's a waste of time. All this hopin' and prayin'. We're gonna locate that little girl. She's gonna be just fine."

He paused, scanning the group, then turned halfway, lifting the crossbow to sight along the tree line. "Am I the only one zen around here? Good lord."

Measi followed his gaze, every muscle coiled, every sense alert. The woods were deceptive, hiding threats in the shadows. She didn't speak, but she noted the direction of the gunshot in her mind. Unseen, unknown—but she knew. The danger was closer than they thought.

Measi let out a quiet breath and spoke up, her voice calm but firm. "I think we should call it." She glanced at Daryl, catching his eye for a moment, then nodded toward the darkening sky. "It's going to be too dark soon."

Daryl's eyes followed hers for a beat, then he gave the smallest nod and turned to the others.

"Let's head back," he said, his voice low and steady.

Carol stepped forward, hope lingering in her tone. "We'll pick it up again tomorrow?"

Measi watched Carol's face for a flicker of relief, then shifted her gaze to Daryl. He was silent, watching the woods one last time before turning fully away. She stayed close, keeping her hand near her knife, instinctively scanning the shadows around them.