𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | TWD [Book 1]

LXXIV. The Distance in his Fingertips

Daryl wraps an arm protectively around her as they move towards the overturned vehicle. Madeleine and Rick exchange a knowing glance as they watch the man attempt to crawl away from them, his movements feeble and desperate.

Madeleine regards the man with a bored expression, her hand hovering over the hilt of her sword. Gripping the weapon tightly, she aims it at the man's neck, the sharp edge gleaming in the dim light.

"Speak or die," she commands, her voice dripping with menace.

Rick's grip tightens on his gun as he stares down at the man sprawled on the ground, his expression stoic despite the turmoil raging within him. "Your people back in the chemical plant... did you win?" he demands, his voice cutting through the tense air like a blade.

The man shakes his head weakly, a grim resignation clouding his features. "No one did," he rasps, his voice barely above a whisper.

Daryl's jaw tightens as he steps forward, his own gun drawn and aimed squarely at the man's trembling form. "The hell's that supposed to mean?" he growls, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "The hell's that supposed to mean?" Daryl repeats, his voice dripping with contempt.

The man coughs, his gaze flickering away before meeting theirs once more. "Everyone's dead," he informs, his words weighted with despair.

Daryl shakes his head in disbelief, his grip on his gun tightening with each passing moment. "Bullshit," he snarls, unwilling to accept the truth before him.

Rick's expression darkens as he takes a step forward, his eyes boring into the man's soul. "There's no one else? You're the only one?" he demands, his voice tinged with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

The man's breaths come in ragged gasps now, the last vestiges of life slipping through his fingers like sand. "Me, the king, the axe man, and a short-haired psycho lady, and Adanna. The rest of the Reapers... they're gone," he states, his voice filled with bitter resentment as he gazes up at them with pure hatred. "You did this. My people... your people... they're all gone. And now... me too."

Daryl stands before them, his expression strained and anguished, teetering on the brink of tears. Madeleine's gaze lingers on the man on the ground, her features betraying no hint of sympathy as she keeps her sword trained on him. Without hesitation, she pierces her sword through his skull as Daryl staggers backward, befriended he turns away and heads towards the truck, his hand gripping the knife at his side.

"Hey. Give me a hand with this," Daryl calls out, his voice strained but resolute. Madeleine and Rick join him, their eyes narrowing in anticipation as they work together to extract a heavy box from the bed of the truck.

"We can use them," Madeleine declares, her voice cutting through the air like a blade as they notice the explosives inside the box.

Rick furrows his brow in confusion, his expression reflecting his uncertainty. "What?"

Daryl nods in agreement, his eyes fixed on Rick as he lays out his plan. "She's right," he asserts, his tone firm and unwavering. "Think about it. There ain't no Kingdom no more. We know what we gotta do," Daryl continues, his voice gaining momentum as he lays out his strategy. "We blow open the sanctuary, let the walkers flood in. They'll surrender. It'll be done." His proposal hangs heavy in the air, eliciting skeptical looks from both Rick and his wife.

"They have workers in there, children, old people... we can't risk blowing it up directly," Madeleine interjects, her voice tinged with urgency as she tries to reason with her husband.

But Daryl shakes his head stubbornly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "We'll hit the south side of the main building," Daryl attempts to reason with both Madeleine and Rick, his voice edged with urgency. "They live in the north side. They'll be up the stairs before the walkers even get in."