𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 | 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯²

𝖲𝗂𝗑𝗍𝗒 𝖳𝗐𝗈

Chapter Sixty Two,
I'm Sorry

NEGAN, the man who always seemed ten steps ahead, no matter what they did. No matter how many times they thought they had beaten him, he would be there, waiting with a thousand guns pointed at them, his whistles filling the air.

And that moment had come again.

"Three!" Negan called, his voice resonating through the air. "Two!" he counted down. Daryl and Chloe exchanged brief glances, and their attention was drawn to the appearance of Saviors over the ridge. "One!"

Gunshots rang out, and all of the Saviors dropped. The group's heavy, stressed breathing was masked by the shouts and groans from above, leaving them momentarily stunned.

"Now!" Rick yelled, his voice filled with determination, spurring them into action as they charged in the direction of the fallen Saviors. Those who were still alive had little time left, dropping one by one.

The chaos was like nothing they had ever seen before. The rush of adrenaline turned everything into a blur. Chloe hadn't noticed the massive man charging toward her until it was too late. His body, twice her size, collided with hers, and they tumbled over the slope, landing hard on her back, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Punches rained down on Chloe's face as she tried to make sense of the situation. Why her? Before she could find an answer, she gasped for air as the man's hands closed around her throat, despite her attempts to push him away. Her gun was out of reach, leaving her defenseless as she fought for her breath.

Her legs flailed wildly beneath him as she entered a panic mode. In a moment of clarity, her vision began to fade, but she mindlessly reached for her knife, pulling it from its sheath and slicing the man's torso.

Air quickly filled her lungs as he jumped back, cursing and calling her names that she paid little attention to. She began crawling toward her gun, but her efforts were thwarted when the man grabbed her ankles. However, she was soon released.

Chloe rolled onto her back and found Morgan beating the man with his stick. A loud whistle pierced the air, followed by a familiar voice.

"Merle!" Daryl yelled, and a moment later, the man was shot. Both Morgan and Chloe turned their heads toward the shooter.

Merle.

Relief washed over Chloe as her head fell back to the ground, still gasping for air. A hand reached out to her.

She was quickly pulled to her feet, her knife retrieved from where it lay.

"Hey, you good?" Morgan called out over the gunfire, shaking her lightly by the shoulder. All Chloe could manage was a nod.