Double Crossbow (Daryl Dixon) [The Walking Dead]

Chapter 69 ↣ Are we alive?

"But what is grief, if not love persevering?"

— Vision, WandaVision 1x08

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Kathryn

The seams I had carefully been sewing inside myself all ripped open again when I heard Rick's voice on that walkie.

I stared at the second grave. Sasha and I were the only two that remained in the clearing. The sun barely shone through the treetops now.

How many times would we be forced to have this wound torn open? My lungs burned as I tried to breathe in even segments, but I was drowning. I knew it. What if it never stopped? I had thought that perhaps I had understood this grieving. Glenn had made it seem finite, but that couldn't be possible because the only thing I knew for certain was this wound was persevering.

I reached to my hip and undid the water bottle I had tied there. I stood it upright in the grass next to where Sasha sat and left her.

Walking back to my group, I had a different objective in mind. There was a loose end I needed tied up and focusing on a tangible problem seemed like a viable distraction.

Faces turned my way as I approached. I met Rick's eye and called him over with a tilt of my head. He approached—his eyes carefully gauging. He didn't need to worry about me.

I said in a hushed voice, "There's something bugging me."

He nodded to go on.

"In all the travelling, and the...other, I never got the story on why they all were somehow back in Atlanta. I know Abraham wouldn't vary from his mission outta the goodness of his heart."

Rick paled. At first I had thought from seeing something, but the muscles on either side of his jaw were almost snapped past their breaking point. After a slow breath, he rolled out his jaw and said, "Eugene lied. About all of it."

My hands curled into fists. "Tell me why I shouldn't knock that nest off his head right now."

"Abraham already tried. Glenn said Eugene crumpled like a piece of paper. Was out the better part of a day."

"Daryl knows?" I asked, releasing my fists to adjust my bow strap.

"Just told him. You were next on the list, but you found me first."

I looked past Rick's shoulder to where Daryl sat quietly, staring into the fire. "He say anything?"

"We talked about where to go next."

I looked over to Eugene, and a new wave of anger washed over me. I was going to wring his neck if the walkers didn't get him soon. For now I'd save the energy.

"And where's that?"

"D.C."

I snorted, but then saw Rick's face. He was serious. "Why?"

He shrugged. "We were put on this path for some kinda reason. D.C.'s not the destination, just the direction we're heading."

"Well that's certainly optimistic."

"I'm trying."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and after a moment, reached out to touch the face of his watch. It still ticked. Rick knew grief well, and he was still standing. "Guess that means I'm trying too."

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The Georgia weather was unkind to us. I blinked up at the sun. We're we even still in Georgia? Whatever. State lines had always been arbitrary.