There was a tightness in Mila's chest that made it difficult for her to breathe, and it left her more out of breath as she sprinted. The roar of the gunshot still resounded in the air. The worn out leather boots she wore sent shocks of pain through her insteps as all of the cushioning had long since been flattened out, but she felt them less and less as her heart pounded in her chest. She cleared her mind so that she would be ready for whatever situation she might herself in.
"Daryl!" she yelled, seeing him dive behind a tree.
Daryl's eyes widened when he saw her. "Get down!" he bellowed in reply. She obeyed by leaning forward and bending at the knees but kept up her hurried pace. When she reached him, she dropped into the dirt beside him. "What the hell are you doin' here?!" he asked incredulously.
Mila ignored him and cocked her 9mm. In one motion she swung over him and landed on her right knee to aim the gun at the shooter.
"No!" Daryl exclaimed. Before he pulled her back behind the safety of the tree, her mouth fell open and she dropped her gun. Daryl snatched her by the arm with both hands, causing her to land beside him on her back.
She propped herself up with her elbows. "Dad . . . " she breathed.
Daryl looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"Dad!" she called louder, still looking absently at the ground in front of her. Daryl leaned over her, causing her to look at him. Her vision blurred as tears came to her eyes, and her nose turned bright red. "That's my dad. . . ." she whimpered.
There was a brief pause before the answer.
"Mila?"
Daryl watched her as she stood up and stepped out from behind the tree slowly. She stared as Hosea fought to steady Eli with one hand and hold Inky with the other, looking at her between boughts. She heard Daryl rise to his feet and felt his presence as he stood behind her. In her peripheral vision, she saw him ready his bow. The paint spun in a half circle one more time before finally dropping his head and snorting.
"Mila," Hosea said, as if to confirm it to himself.
Mila stood in awe; Hosea looked distinctly different than he had the last time she saw him. The stubble that had been growing on his chin and cheeks had become a full, thick beard sprinkled with gray hairs. He had lost a good deal of weight and his cheeks were gaunt. But more than that, he just seemed older, as if time and tragedy had taken their toll.
He swung his right leg over the horse's back and stepped down from the saddle without taking his eyes off of her.
Daryl shifted uncomfortably, still pointing his crossbow, as Hosea dropped the reins and walked towards them; there was a determination in his step and a spark in his eyes. With both arms, he drew Mila into a hearty embrace, and, cradling her head in his palm, his shoulders began to heave.
Mila stood motionless, her arms limp by her sides. She heard her father exhale a few ragged breaths before she started to sob.
Hosea gripped his daughter's shoulders and examined her at arm's length. "I was afraid I'd never see you again," he said with a trembling voice. He studied her face for a long while. "Who is this man?" he whispered, finally glancing at Daryl.
"No. . . . His name is Daryl. He's a good man. He's been helping to keep me safe with his-" she closed her eyes and sighed, correcting herself, "our- group." Daryl's gaze fixed on her as she explained. Hosea looked back towards him.
"I'm sorry I took a shot at you," he said, abashed. "I thought you were . . . someone else. Maybe one of the men who deserved it." His eyes drifted to the leaves in the path at Daryl's feet.
Daryl's eyes narrowed and darted between the reunited pair. "I'm okay. You did what you thought you had to do."
"As I said before, I'm Hosea," he said, extending a hand. "Thank you for protecting my daughter all this time."
Daryl hesitated before shaking it. "It wa'n't just me. There's a lot of us. Those questions I asked you were to see if you were gonna be a good fit for the group. Seein' as she knows ya, I guess she can vouch for ya."
"He should come," Mila answered, avoiding eye contact with Daryl. She tried to look less downcast than she was, but feared that she failed when Daryl cocked his head to the side subtly.
". . . Okay then. Come on. It's gone get dark 'fore long."