Dixons Divided | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 10

Present

Daryl rifled through all the photos he'd managed to snag as they drew closer to Atlanta. The more time that passed, the antsier Daryl seemed to get. Merle didn't mention it. He was an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. Well, maybe that was debatable, but he knew not to mess around about this.

He also didn't bring up the fact that Daryl had taken nearly every single photo he could from the house, nor did he acknowledge the suffocating feeling of dread that stifled them within the truck's cap. Instead, he simply drove in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel just as hard as Daryl had when he'd first driven away from Jess. 

Aside from them, there was nobody heading towards Georgia's booming capital. That alone was worrisome in the Dixons' eyes. It was starting to grow increasingly more dark, and the urgency to find his wife and daughter was rising up inside Daryl. The other side of the highway was packed with cars. 

Daryl's eyes unconsciously dragged across them as they sped along, searching through the massive clog for his wife's vehicle in hopes that maybe they'd be able to pull over and simply haul her and Irma over the concrete divider that separated the two sides. But the highway was empty and quiet for the most part, with the occasional infected on the other side of the divide. They passed a few accidents, and Daryl's eyes swept across each one just in case. 

"I'm sure she's fine, Daryl. Probably didn' even go into the city and is waitin' for yah right now." Merle assured, his tone somehow managing to be soft and firm at the same time. He wasn't usually all that comforting, so when he was, it went a long way. "Ava's a smart cookie, and Irma's definitely with 'er. Ava wouldn't let nothin' happen to that lil' girl and you know it."

Daryl nodded numbly, eyes shifting away from the clustered up cars and back to his photos. He kept coming back to the one of them all at the hospital when Irma was first born. Ava holding their baby girl, and Merle with his arms slung over the shoulders of both him and Glenn. Irma Horvath stood off to the side next to Ava's parents, smiling at the new mother with tears in her eyes.

Daryl's hands curled into fists, and he had to force himself not to look back out the window. He couldn't lose it. Not here. Not now. Not yet. He had to know first, had to find them no matter what. Daryl had grown up with Ava. She was made of the same stuff he was-- a Dixon just as sure as he was. Tough as nails. She and Irma were okay; all he had to do was find them.

Merle had never been one to worry, or get scared for that matter. He was a go-with-the-flow even if the flow is shit kind of guy. But right now? He was feeling nothin' but fear for his sister in law and dear niece. They were about to drive straight into what was almost undoubtedly a death trap if they hadn't already, and he was well aware of that fact.

But he couldn't let those frantic feelings show. His baby brother was walking a fine line between being okay and being... well. Not okay. The other side of the highway had stopped moving completely and that didn't seem like it would be changing anytime soon. Most of the cars were abandoned, and it sent a shiver down Merle's spine. Which was saying something considering what a tough son of a bitch he happened to be.

"There." Merle spoke suddenly, straightening in his seat and pressing down even further on the gas pedal. Daryl's gaze snapped forward as Atlanta finally came into view. The younger Dixon let out a shaking breath, shaking out his hands as nerves threatened to make him tremble. 

The car hummed as it was accelerated to its highest speed, which didn't seem like enough. Daryl shoved the photos into the inner pocket of his vest for safe keeping, pulling his Horton Scout out from the floorboard and settling it into his lap as they drew nearer to their destination. Vaguely, the pair of brothers could make out helicopters hovering above the city.