Chapter 60 - The end of the line

Careful and quiet, Daryl led the way through the trees, all three of them on high alert. He didn't know who or what they would find, but his skin was crawling with trepidation so he slowed right down, and eventually, his head cocked to one side, held a hand up to stop the others.

And then the sound of someone pleading and sobbing carried through the trees.

A cocky drawl soon followed. "… fair's fair, you took one of mine, so we'll be taking one of yours. Then the other of yours. Then, after you've watched us take them, it'll be your turn. Then we'll be square."

"No! Please, no, take me, but let them go!"

Daryl, Beth and Bob shared a wild look. That voice was unmistakably Rick's.

Holding a finger to his lips – unnecessarily, because Bob and Beth were frozen silent – Daryl then motioned for them to edge further forward until, through the bushes, they could see that just ahead, the trees opened out onto a narrow dirt road running through the woods, and there, Rick, Michonne and Carl were being held by a group of rough-looking leathered-up men.

Adrenaline immediately sparking through his every cell, Daryl quickly evaluated what they were dealing with.

Six men.

One - an arm around Rick's neck and a gun at his temple;

Two – holding Carl in a bear grip from behind;

Three – standing in front of Carl with a gun pointed at his head;

Four – jamming a revolver hard up against the back of Michonne's skull as she knelt in front of him;

Five and six – casually leaning up against the bonnet of an abandoned car nearby.

The leader of the group seemed to be the guy holding Rick, as he was the one tormenting him with apathetic, malicious taunts while the others watched on with depraved grins in anticipation of what was about to happen. A constant stream of desperate pleas poured from Rick as he became increasingly agitated, and this only intensified when the man holding a very distressed Carl started to drag his pants down.

Daryl clenched his teeth, then glanced back at Bob and pointed to his gun.

How many rounds?

Quickly checking, Bob held up four fingers, and Daryl gave a terse nod, then indicated the man with the gun trained on Carl.

Take him first.

Beth didn't have a weapon, so he motioned for her to stay back, then cocked his crossbow.

Now.

Everything happened so fast.

Jumping out from the cover of the trees, Daryl sent a bolt flying into the skull of the man behind Michonne and he fell with a heavy thunk to the ground, while, two shots later, Bob took down the man pointing the gun at Carl. Although startled by the turn of events, Rick didn't waste a second and quickly slammed his head back into the face of the man behind him then whirled around and tried to wrestle the gun out of his hand.

Meanwhile, Carl suddenly remembered Tahlia's lessons, and stomped hard on the foot of the man holding him before launching himself forward and free of his grip as Michonne dove for her katana lying a few feet away, and in one grab and roll was on her feet, leaping forward and opening the belly of the man who'd been holding Carl before taking another swing and lopping his head right off, a crimson spray following in its wake.

By this time, the men at the car had armed themselves, one with a rifle and the other a pump action shotgun, and were firing madly at Daryl and Bob. Bob emptied his chamber which gave Daryl enough time to re-cock his crossbow and land a bolt into the head of one, while Michonne scooped up her now-dead-captor's handgun and took out the other man. Unable to seize his aggressor's weapon, Rick, fueled by fury, chomped down on his neck and savagely ripped out a large chunk of flesh, tearing his jugular at the same time. Bathed in blood, Rick shoved the gurgling and gaping man to the ground then snatched up his gun and shot him in the head.

And as abruptly as it had all begun, it was over.

Blood. Bodies. Carnage. Relief.

Then Beth started screaming.

"Beth." Daryl laid a hand on her shoulder, his expression grim. "Beth."

Her screams faded into quiet distress as she knelt on the ground next to Bob's lifeless body, her hands fisted at the front of his shirt, her eyes fixed on the gory mess at the side of his head where a shotgun shell had found purchase.

"But… but…"

"C'mon, girl. Ain't nothin' to be done for him." Daryl told her gently as he pulled her to her feet and led her over to the others, who were clutching one another in a mix of breathless relief, shock and horror.

Their reunion should have been a happy one, but instead was marred by loss and violence, like so many things were in this world.

"Daryl. Thank God." muttered Rick as he embraced his brother fiercely.

"Who the hell were those assholes?" asked Daryl as they pulled apart.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face, almost surprised when his fingers came away sticky with blood.

"Guys called themselves the Claimers. By sheer shit luck they turned up in a house that we were camping out in a couple of days back. Mich and Carl were out scavenging, and I tried to get out without them seeing me, but… I ended up killing one of their guys on my way out. They must've been tracking us." He clapped Daryl's shoulder with heavy gratitude. "If you hadn't shown up when you did…"

Daryl just nodded, not sure he could face the idea of what they would have stumbled on had they waited any longer to follow those tracks.

"I'm so glad to see you two. We didn't know who else made it out of the prison. Are you guys ok? I mean…" Rick gave Beth a sympathetic squeeze on the arm.

She just returned with a little, tight smile and a nod. "We're ok."

Heaving a sigh, Daryl ran a hand through his hair then nudged his head in Bob's direction. "Need to bury him."

"Wait." Michonne's eyes darted around, then she shot Daryl a questioning look. "Where's… where's Tahly?"

The anguish in his eyes was all the answer she needed.

Her hand flew to her mouth and her face crumpled. "What?"

Daryl tried to force the lump out of his throat. "Didn't make it outta the prison." he managed hoarsely.

He quickly turned away before his emotions could get the better of him, but Michonne closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his shoulders, her face pressed against his back. Willing himself to hold it together, he raised a hand to her forearm and squeezed hard for a brief moment before gently extricating himself from her.

"Tahly as well?!" Carl choked out, and at that Daryl slowly turned around to see Rick with his arms tightly around his son, their faces masks of pain.

Daryl's brow furrowed as he then let his gaze drift around the area before alighting back on Rick's, realisation dawning.

"Lil asskicker?" questioned Daryl, but Rick just shook his head in sorrow.

With a choked huff and mirrored grief, Daryl breathed, "Man, I'm so…"

He was a lot of things: sorry; hurt; raw; broken; but most of all in that moment, he was just really goddamned exhausted.

Quietly, they dug a shallow grave for Bob – the best they could do without shovels – and Michonne lashed two sticks together in the shape of a cross to lay on top as Rick said a few words. Then they got straight to work collecting up the Claimers' weapons before dragging their bodies further out into the bush. Daryl made a small fire while Rick attempted to clean some of the dried blood from his face, and Michonne settled a still shaken Beth and Carl into the back of the car, coaxing them to try and get some sleep.

"The Governor?" Daryl asked eventually as they sat around the fire. "He dead?"

Cuddled up against Rick, her head in the crook of his neck, Michonne nodded. "Finally killed that asshole. Feels like too little, too late, though. After everything."

Rick just tightened his arm around her shoulders in commiseration.

Staring into the flames for a moment, Daryl then looked back over to them. "Y'know if anyone else got outta there?"

Rick shook his head. "We came up from the field and found Carl, then went to get Judith but there was nothing except… blood, and I don't know where she-" his voice cracked a little, but he took a steadying breath. "The bus was long gone, there was no one else there. So, we ran. Eventually came across a little settlement. Holed up there until the Claimers came. Did you see anyone else get out?"

Daryl shrugged as he etched small patterns in the dirt with a twig. "Saw the bus leave. And Bob said he saw Maggie and Sash running out, so we were gonna try find them. But then saw that sign for Terminus. Figured maybe that's where people mighta ended up."

"Yes!" Michonne sat up a little. "That's what we thought too! I remembered that was the place we heard about on the radio."

"Guess that's where we're goin', then."

With the morning sun on their backs and the weight of the past days on their shoulders, they made their way along the train tracks.

In front, Beth and Carl were casually tossing a pinecone back and forth as they walked, while Michonne and Rick followed close behind.

"Hey." Michonne said quietly. "I'm gonna drop back. Walk with Daryl for a bit."

Rick snuck a glance at the despondent figure of Daryl dragging along at the rear. "Seems like he wants to be alone."

"He might want to be, but he isn't. He's got us, and I just want to make sure he knows that."

With a small, warm smile, Rick squeezed Michonne's hand, then carried on ahead.

Daryl gave Michonne no acknowledgement as she fell into step next to him, and they walked side by side in silence for a long while.

She could practically feel his affliction radiating from him, and she knew that at the core of it, he'd be wrestling with a keen sense of self-blame for everything they had lost. Perhaps she could alleviate that a little by letting him know he wasn't the only one feeling that way.

"I should never have stopped looking for him."

Lost in his head, Michonne's sudden admittance took Daryl by surprise, and he flicked her a sideways glance.

She carried on, her voice heavy with resignation. "There were more places to look. I should have kept going until I found him."

"Naw, Mich." Daryl gave a firm shake of his head. "Ya tried. Ya tried for so long. Couldn't keep that up forever."

"I stopped looking for the Governor, and he came for us. Simple as that."

"Ain't simple as that!" Daryl insisted. "Ya did all ya could. He was the asshole. That's on him. That's all him."

And only then did Daryl realise that they were all carrying stones of guilt and regret. The amount and weight differed, but they all carried them. For the prison; for all that they'd lost then and all the losses before; for lives that could have been saved; for others that had been taken; for decisions made and crossroads navigated and all the what ifs and what might have beens that followed. And although that realisation didn't mitigate his pain, it did make it a little easier to bear.

He wasn't ready to work through any of the heavier stones he was carrying, but there was one small one he'd been turning over that he could voice to Michonne.

He took a long, contemplative breath. "Ain't never told her. Even after ya gave me a hard time 'bout it. Still ain't never damn well told her. Thought I had more time."

His voice was quiet, but the meaning was clear.

"You didn't need to, Daryl." Michonne said softly. "She knew. Of course she knew." She tapped his elbow lightly. "You and her? No doubt how you felt. Clear as damn day."

Feel. Daryl wanted to correct her. How I feel. Coz them feelings ain't never gonna be in the past.

But instead he gave a quick sniff and turned his head to gaze out at the tree canopy away over yonder.

Focus on something far, far from him.

After more lengths of track were behind them, Daryl eventually trusted his voice enough to speak again.

"Gonna go back there. To the prison."

Michonne sucked in a breath. "Daryl. You're not going to-"

He held a hand up. "I know, I know. Likely ain't gonna be nothin' of her to find. But I gotta check. Gotta see for myself. Shoulda never left like that in the first place. Shoulda never just left her there. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout it." He rubbed at his chin. "So, I gotta go. Wanna least see if I can find somethin' of hers from our cell. Y'know, just to hold on to."

There was a wistful note to his tone that Michonne had never heard before and it made her heart ache.

"Just gonna get to Terminus, see what it's like, see if you guys are gonna stay, then I'ma go back.

"And after that?" she asked. "Will you come back to us?"

Daryl chewed on his lip, then shrugged. "Dunno."

Considering this for a long moment, Michonne then said, "I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you're not going to feel this way forever."

He nodded. "Then maybe when I stop feelin' this way, I'll come back."

The rest of their journey was uneventful and eventually chain-linked fences surrounding a large concrete yard and a big brick building with 'Terminus' spelled in block letters in the windows appeared in the distance.

The end of the line.

A ripple of relief ran through the group now that their destination was in sight, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of apprehension at the prospect of the unknown. On edge after recent events, Rick wasn't about to take any chances, so as they drew nearer, he furtively led the group through the woods and they scouted around the side of the complex. Deeming it to be safe enough so far, they first buried their bag of weapons just outside the walls, then decided to scale the fence in an effort to maintain an element of surprise.

Once on the other side, it still all seemed very quiet and underwhelming, but they weren't yet sure whether this was a good thing or a huge red flag. Cautiously, they made their way past a line of old railway containers and into a large warehouse only to find some people broadcasting messages, others making posters, and generally mundane-looking activities taking place.

Rick exchanged a glance with Michonne and Daryl. There was a very mellow feel to the place, and they found themselves relaxing a little in response.

"Hello, there!" a young man greeted them jovially, despite his obvious surprise at their unexpected entrance. "I'm Gareth. We would normally roll out the welcome wagon for new guests, but I see that you decided not to use the front door!"

As he made his way over to them the group reflexively tightened their grip on their weapons.

Gareth smiled and held his hands up, placatory. "I get it. I do. After being out there it's always hard to let your guard down. But this is a sanctuary and you are very welcome here. Why don't you come with me? Let's get you around to the front where we can fix you a plate and get you settled. You look like you've been on the road for a while."

Rick nodded. It felt like a lot longer.

Around at the front of the complex they were introduced to Mary, Gareth's mother, who was frying up some meat on a barbecue in the courtyard, making their mouths water with the smell. With a friendly smile, she handed a plate to Beth, then to Michonne, then held one out to Rick. About to take it, Rick let his eyes wander over the other Terminus residents standing nearby.

One wearing familiar riot gear.

Another, a familiar poncho.

Another, a familiar pocket watch.

Suddenly, icy shards of dread blasted through his veins.

Slamming the plate out of Mary's hand, he grabbed hold of the asshole next to him and jammed his gun against his temple.

"Where the FUCK did you get that watch?"

As soon as Rick moved, Daryl had his crossbow up at the ready, only just piecing together what Rick had noticed, and he could now see that this place was not what it seemed.

Backing up closer to Carl, Michonne raised her gun as they both eyed up the guards on the rooftops that now had weapons trained on them. Following suit, Beth held her gun high, but Daryl was sure she wouldn't stand a chance of hitting anyone with the way her hands were trembling, so he moved closer to shield her a little.

"Run." came Rick's firm command.

So, they did.

The sound of gunshots were all around them as they headed for the nearest building, ducking and dodging through passageways and out the other side, skirting around the walls and across the yard, desperately trying to find a way out, but they were headed off at every turn.

Finding themselves in the middle of an open courtyard the gunfire was deafening, but Rick suddenly stood stock still.

"They're shooting at our feet!" he shouted, only then realising that the shots weren't intended to hit them, but herd them.

"Stop running!" Gareth called as he approached, pointing his gun at Carl's head. "You're surrounded. Nowhere to go. So, drop your weapons – all of them – then I want you to move that way, over to that train car. The boy stays with me until you're all inside. You try anything, he dies."

Shaking with anger and adrenaline, Rick clenched his jaw but laid his weapons down, and the others reluctantly followed his lead. Slowly they made their way to the old train car, and Rick unbolted the door.

"Give me my son."

"Get inside." Gareth countered firmly.

Making their way into the darkened space, Carl was soon roughly shoved in behind them, the door slammed shut, the loud scrape of the bolt signaling that they were now prisoners.

And as their eyes adjusted to the gloom, shadows moved around them, and they realised that they weren't alone.

"Rick?!"

Rick's mouth dropped open in disbelief as Glenn stepped forward, flanked by Maggie and Sasha, and, just behind them, two men and a woman that he didn't recognize.

Then Maggie caught sight of her sister. "Oh my Lord!" she exclaimed as she flew forward and embraced her fiercely, while the others quickly exchanged greetings and hugs, finding a little silver lining to this dire situation.

"How long have you guys been in here?" Michonne asked.

Sasha shrugged. "A day, maybe? Sanctuary, my ass. They took all our stuff and locked us up!" Then she studied their faces anxiously. "Hey… do any of you know what happened to my brother? If he's…?"

Beth shook her head. "He was with Carol at the prison, but they were already gone by the time we got out of there. No sign of either of them since."

"Ok." breathed Sasha hopefully. "Ok. He could still be out there. They could both still be out there."

Maggie gripped her sister's hand. "I didn't know what happened to you! You were meant to be on the bus, you and Glenn – but thank the Lord neither of you were because we found it and it had crashed… no survivors." She shook her head ruefully. "Me and Sasha got out of the prison together. We were looking for you, for Glenn, and then we saw the signs for this place. Left notes on them to meet us here. But we found Glenn on the way with these guys." She gestured to the three strangers and introduced them. "This is Abraham, Rosita and Eugene. They're trying to get Eugene to Washington. He knows something about a cure. But now we're stuck in this damn place. What happened to you after the prison, honey?"

Beth quickly related her story up until finding Rick, Michonne and Carl, then Rick took over and grimly filled them in on the Claimers and losing Bob, melancholy descending over the group at the news.

Sasha let out a disenchanted huff. "So much goddamned loss!"

Maggie cast a quick look over to Glenn and nudged her head to where Daryl was standing, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.

"Uh... Daryl?" Glenn stepped forward apprehensively, holding out his closed fist. "Here."

Everyone's eyes were now on the two men and an expectant silence filled the carriage. Warily, Daryl stared at Glenn for a long moment, then finally extended his hand, feeling something drop lightly into his palm.

Daryl looked down at the object and his vision tunneled in as he felt his heart stop and race and pop all at once.

Tahlia's necklace.

"Where'd ya get this?" His voice dangerously quiet.

Glenn swallowed hard. "I need to tell you something."