Declarations

Part 23: Letting Go

12 hours later...

For the last sixty miles, the billboards had promised a beautiful paradise. The images of happy smiling families in front of their lovely suburban homes were a perfect contrast to what Michonne and the others experienced just a few hours before. She wanted to believe that after everything, letting go of what was seen and what needed to be done to survive. But sometimes letting go wasn't simple. Sometimes, the calls were too close for comfort.

She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. After several exhales, she could not ignore Rick's gaze as he shifted his attention from the slushy highway in front of them to her in the passenger seat.

"Michonne?" he said. He reached out and took her hand.

"Have you noticed the billboards?" she asked quietly. "They spared no expense in the advertisements."

"There were neighborhoods like this on the outskirts of Kings County," Rick said. "We inherited the house from Lori's grandmother. She wanted something modern, though. Sometimes, we'd drive out and check out the open houses."

"Didn't find anything you like?" Michonne asked.

"Nothing to my taste," he replied. "What about you? Did you have plans to put your condo on the market before...everythang went to hell?"

She shrugged. "Remember The Jeffersons? The song...something about 'moving on up'? That's what the condo felt like...signing the papers. Moving to the suburbs never crossed my mind. Most of my family lived in the city."

Rick nodded. "I lived on a farm until my dad died. Then, my mom sold it and we moved into town. Thinking back on those times feels like a different world. A life that happened to a different person."

"All of it makes you who you are," Michonne said gently. "All of it."

"Hey," Noah said from the backseat. "We're getting closer now. A community college is down that road. Up ahead is where they were constructing a Toyota factory...you know, before. The Dupont factory was still standing when my dad and I left. We heard that FEMA had turned it into a refugee center. Shirewilt is miles away, though, so it's all good."

"Were the walls strong?" Rick asked.

"I told you," Noah said with excitement. "Brick all the way 'round. Nothing's getting through. They were talking about creating lookouts and having a council. Things were still kinda new when Dad and me left, but plans were moving into place. We had a good community. People who had supplies saved for this sort of thing happening. They were stepping up and everyone else. I've been gone for close to a year, but I know everyone will be welcomed. I know they will."

"What happens if they won't?" Carl asked.

Michonne shifted on the seat to look at him and Judith who sat in the car seat beside him. "We'll leave and a find a place that will. Or we will create our own."

"We did it before," Rick agreed. "We can do it again."

$%^&

"You can't keep blaming yourself." Sasha said.

The passing scenery of the wintery white snow carpet paled in comparison to the view of Daryl's profile. They sat in the cab of Lorenzo's truck with Daryl behind the wheel, and she could not stop watching the emotions that flickered across his handsome face. She wished she could ease his conscience. She wished that he would let her. "Some things you have to let go."

"Not that," Daryl said in a gravelly whisper. "I hear ya, Sasha. But..."

"There was nothing else you could do," Sasha stated firmly. "You saved her life!"