Crescent moon, coast is clear
Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

The next few hours were a whirlwind. I had never been in a helicopter, and never wish to repeat the experience. It was loud and jarring, and I breathed a sigh of relief when we touched down at the small airfield. We loaded on the military plane, which was clearly made for cargo and not people, and settled onto the floor.

It felt like we were flying into a different universe, and I found myself reaching for Daryl's hand again. It felt foolish - I'd flown many times - but I needed something to anchor me during all this transition. He gripped my hand tightly in return and pulled me against his side, and it occurred to me that this was his first time on a plane. I watched his profile in the dim light and wondered what was going through his head. Fear? He'd told me he never left Georgia, and now he'd never be able to return.

Of course, none of this showed on his face and I knew he wouldn't tell me outright. Our flight was about 3 hours, and we didn't talk much. I could see Michonne and Rick, heads together with Carl, Judith on Michonne's lap. Carol spoke quietly with Beth and Herschel, and Maggie rested against Glenn, head on his shoulder. The Woodbury folks were in small groups, undoubtedly talking about where they would go next. I wondered how many of them had family in areas that were still standing, and whether we'd ever see them again.

We touched down at a military base in Denver, Colorado on March 31, 2023. We were herded to a big building and greeted by more UN representatives, who showed us to small dorm rooms where we were going to be housed for the time being. There were bathrooms with hot showers and after we'd washed up, we were taken to a larger room where they served us some sort of pasta dish that I barely tasted.

It was a stark contrast to the night we'd spent at the CDC, where we'd celebrated and relaxed in the safety of a secure building. Some of the Woodbury folks seemed comfortable, laughing and toasting our good fortune, but our smaller group wasn't ready to accept that this was going to end well. We'd had too many incidents where letting our guard down led to disaster, and we remained hyper-vigilant as the evening progressed.

Eventually, some of the UN representatives approached each table and explained their plan to relocate us. Many areas of the United States had heard about their efforts to rescue folks in the GCZ, as they were calling it, and had sent in names of those that were missing. They would run our names against the list and let us know if anyone was looking for us. If so, they'd help us get in contact and make arrangements to settle with them.

If we didn't show up on the list but had family or friends we thought might still be around and willing to take us in, they'd make inquiries on our behalf. If neither of those panned out, they would help us settle near Denver in a barracks that had been repurposed as a refugee facility.

When dinner was over, our group gathered in Rick and Michonne's dorm room, cramming ourselves in for a little privacy. "Does anyone other than Ana have family that would be looking for them?" Rick asked, arm wrapped around Carl.

Glenn spoke up. "My family is from Michigan, but my parents died in a car accident a few months before the infection started. I probably still have some aunts and uncles around, but I don't know if they'd be looking for me. Probably not."

Everyone else was from Georgia, and any close family had either died or would presumably be rescued and brought to the same facility and need to be relocated themselves. Rick nodded and looked at me. "I assume you'll be going to Oregon as soon as possible, with Daryl?"

I looked up at Daryl before answering, and he gave me a slight nod, silently encouraging me. "I was actually hoping we would all go," I said quietly. "I mean, if there's somewhere else you want to be, I'm not trying to stop you, but if it's just a matter of finding a safe place, it sounds like the Northwest is a good bet. And if my family is there, we'd have connections and help settling, and that's better than what we'll find anywhere else, unless we want to live in a refugee center.

"You think your family would want all of us showing up?" Rick asked, and I smiled. "I have a big family, and I think once they understand that I only survived because of all of you, they'll welcome everyone and help us find a new life."

"I'll be honest," Carol said. "It makes me nervous to think about going so far, but I'd rather do that with all of you than be stuck with a bunch of strangers. And if Ana's family is out there, I want her to be with them again, so I'm in."

Everyone else nodded or chimed in, and Rick stood up. "So we're in agreement," he said firmly. "We'll try to contact Ana's family and get to Oregon as a group if it's possible."

I felt Daryl's arm wrap around my waist from behind, and he tugged me toward the door as the group dispersed. We made our way back to our dorm room and I flipped on the light, flooding it with harsh light from the fluorescent bulb in the ceiling. I turned it back off again quickly and dug out my little camping lantern from my bag, setting it on the table so it gave off a soft glow in the room.

"I'm just not used to it," I said, self-consciously, but Daryl had come up behind me and swept my damp hair away from my neck. He bent to place kisses along its curve and up my jaw to the scar on my temple, stopping to tug gently on my earlobe with his teeth.

"Mmm," I hummed in appreciation, and his warm hands slid under my shirt, across the soft skin of my stomach, brushing my ribcage. My eyes fluttered closed as he slowly pushed it up and over my torso, then unhooked my bra and pushed it down my arms to the floor. He pushed me gently toward the bed, tugging my pants over my hips before I climbed in. I turned to look at his face as he unbuttoned his own shirt but couldn't tell what he was thinking. He'd been quiet since we got on the plane, and I didn't know how to get him to open up.

He explored every inch of my body with his mouth that night, and I felt his lips move against my hip bone as if he was speaking, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. Afterwards, he traced patterns on my back and I combed my hand through his hair, which had gotten shaggy over the winter.

"What are you thinking about?" I whispered finally, realizing he wasn't going to tell me on his own. "You've been so quiet, even more than usual."

"Jus' a lot to take in," he murmured. I waited, and eventually he continued, "Ain't so sure about yer plan. Migh' be better for you to find yer family, and then decide if ya want all of us there."

"I ain't gonna let ya go alone," he said when I started to protest, "But I can get ya there and then come back here. If you decide later ya want us ta come, after all, we can do that, but you'd have a choice. If we all go now, ya might . . . regret it."

I sat up halfway, staring down at him. "Daryl, I'm not going to regret keeping the people I love with me," I said incredulously. "And I'm not leaving anyone here or letting any of you leave once we get there. I want them all to know you, and you all to know them."

His expression was still unreadable, but he nodded and tugged me down to lie next to him again. The bed was much softer than the prison bunks, but somehow I found it harder to get comfortable, and lay awake for hours worrying about what the next few days would bring.