Journey to You
Chapter One
The Beginning of the End
This is my new baby, a project that I've been working on for months, which is almost completed. Only I couldn't wait until it was finished to upload since I got waaay to excited. I'm like five chapters or less away from finishing it so I figured why not throw out the first chapter and see what you guys think!
For those of you that have read my other story here's strictly a Daryl Dixon romance for you guys!
WARNING the slow burn is referenced to the fact that even though our characters are in an established relationship we don't get to see anything between them, aside from flashbacks, until they meet again later in the story.
Please enjoy and leave me a review!
"And she smells like lemongrass and sleep
She tastes like apple juice and peach
Oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture
And she means everything to me"
-She by Dodie
Summary:
Calla Dixon lost what she cared for the most at the beginning of the apocalypse. She's forced to go on the run, always one step behind her husband, Daryl, and trying to keep their son alive. She's twisted and warped the new world they exist in changing her from the woman she once was. This Calla is a survivor, and she doesn't plan to die before she finds her husband. Only one Philip Blake throws a wrench in her plans and starts to fuck everything up. He's fascinated with her and Calla finding her family would ruin any plans he has for her.
Only Philip doesn't realize just how much he'll regret ever meeting a person with the last name Dixon.
The sun felt warm against her skin, the skirt of her dress lazily moving in the breeze, as Calla watched her son fly across the ground, his small legs carrying him as fast as he could go, as he ran away from his grandfather, who followed closely behind him. The shrieks, and giggles of fun, filled her heart with warmth, only a small part of it feeling empty, as she thought about who was missing. Her husband hadn't been able to make the family trip, work not approving of the time off, and it was needed to pay the bills. Calla understood, but it didn't help the sensation of loss, as she determinedly decided that she would call him soon, knowing his lunch break was just a few measly minutes away.
"It's a shame that husband of yours couldn't make it," her mother said, a small smile on her face as if she could read her daughter's mind. "We'd love to see him more often."
"He'd prefer to be here I assure you," Calla laughed lightly. She twisted her wedding band around her finger as she imagined the disgruntled and annoyed look that he had worn the night he told her he wouldn't be able to come. "You'll get to see him Friday after work, his boss is letting him off early. His job just couldn't give him the week. Normally Jason wouldn't have a problem with the time off, but business has picked up and they had a few high-profile customers with a strict deadline, and they needed him. You know how those rich men can be about their cars."
Her mother reached over to pat Calla's hand gently as she sighed and nodded.
"I know, baby. I just hate seeing that something is obviously missing between you and Maverick. You both miss him. I love that your father and I get to see you for eight fantastic days, but I can tell it puts a strain on you. He's a wonderful man, and I can see how much he loves the two of you just by how you two react without him. It'll be good to have him here this weekend, even if it's only for a day before you've all got to go back."
"Maybe for the holidays, we can all stay here a little longer. They usually close the shop down for Christmas. If I have to, I'll soften up his boss with sweets."
"That man would move the world for the two of you," Brianna, her mother, said. "He'll do his best. Your father and I will patiently wait for any time we can get from the three of you. Maybe we'll come to see you this year. What do you think? We'd have more time; lord knows we don't do much of anything else since your father retired."
"I think I would like that, mama."
Glancing down at her phone Calla smiled at the time, excusing herself from the conversation with her mother, as she excitedly made to dial the number.
"Are yah already missin' me, girl?" drawled a deep southern voice that caused her to melt, and calm all at once.
"Always," she smiled, letting her happiness slip into her voice. "I'm missing you something awful, Daryl Dixon."
She heard a gruff voice ask who the hell he was talking to, to which Daryl grunted out a fuck off and announced he was leaving for his break. Calla bit her lip as she tried not to smile wider, wondering if it was physically possible, as it was already so wide it hurt her cheeks.
"Fuckers know who the hell I'm talkin' to," he grumbled to himself as she heard him push open a door, and the soft sounds of birds chirping filled her ears. "Just a bunch of gosspin' old ladies is what they are."
"Not everyone has an interesting life like you," she teased. "You act as if they bother you about it often." She could hear Daryl groan on the other end, only heightening her amusement, as she could imagine him rubbing at his face in frustration.
"You know they do darlin'," he griped, his voice speaking of irritation, but there was a softness to it, telling her he didn't mean it. "It's all yer fault, feedin' them those sweets, and shit. Yah gotta stop sendin' stuff to work with me. They can go git their own wives to bakes 'em cookies, and muffins. Their like strays they'll keep comin' back if yah keep feedin' 'em."
Calla's laugh broke across the yard, sounding like a bell, as her parents glanced over, smiles on their faces, as they knew whom she was talking to.
"You should have a good relationship with your co-workers. I'm not going to stop sending them with you."
"It ain't me that they like." He sounded as if he was pouting on the other side of the phone and Calla could just imagine the way his lips would turn down, a sparkle in his eye, as he took a drag of his cigarette.
Biting her lip, she allowed the smile to soften, to become smaller, as she began to twist her ring once more, as she leaned against the side of her childhood home.
"I really do miss you."
They hardly ever spent time away from one another, and usually tried to plan family trips like this when they could all go together because they couldn't stand being away from one another for extended periods of time.
A sigh breathed softly into her ear, sounding so close, but the man behind it was so far away.
"I know, peach," he whispered to her, using the nickname he had given her back after their first kiss. He had told her she was as sweet as any Georgian peach and the name stuck. It could still melt her heart and set her insides ablaze. "I miss you too. How's the family? You guys having fun?"
"Of course," she said, perking up a bit as she turned her head to watch Maverick giggle and shriek as her father lifted him up into the air. "Ma and dad adore having Maverick here, and it's been so nice visiting with them. They love any chance they can get having us around."
"That's good." He paused, she could hear as he took another drag, before exhaling the smoke. "I'm sorry I couldn' be there."
"I know you wanted to be. We'll see you soon though, just a few more days, and you'll get to be here with us."
"Yeah. Fuck I can't wait. Don' think I can get used to not havin' you and the little ass-kicker shoving your feet into mah back."
"I don't do that, Daryl!"
"Sure. Sure, and those cold ass feet of yours don' end up making me jump when yah press 'em against me." She listened to his chuckle, allowing the sound to wrap around her as she closed her eyes, and drank it in. It was like music to her ears, the sound low, and rich. "Everything all right up there? I've been hearing things on the news. Makes me nervous to be away from the two of yah."
"We're fine here, Dare. Don't worry. Nothing weird like that has happened. Ma and dads have been peaceful, and you know this little town, not much ever happens here. Whatever is going on, all that craziness on the news, it's probably nothing for us to worry about."
"I'd feel a lot better when I can be there with the two of yah. It makes me nervous having the both of yah so far away from meh."
"It's just a couple of hours." Calla tried to ease his worry but in reality, she felt the same way. It caused her to grow uncomfortable and uneasy not having him close when the cities seemed to have gone crazy. They were on the other side of Atlanta, a good four hours away, or three if you drove like Daryl when Maverick wasn't in the car. "We'll be fine. We're enjoying our time here, and soon you'll be here to enjoy it as well. Even if it is just for a day. Then we'll all be under one roof again."
Woman, I can' wait for that to happen." She could hear the tease building up in his voice, more words would surely follow, the kind that would make her blush, and heat would build under her skin, but before he was able to start something they couldn't continue, the voice of his boss rang out. "Fuck, sorry darlin' gotta go."
"I love you." Disappointment filled her heart, but she made sure her voice didn't reflect that, instead dripping with the sentiment that reflected those words.
"I love yah too, peach. Tell that boy that I'll talk to him tonight, before bed, I believe I promised him a story, and that I love him too."
"Of course, have a good rest of your day at work, Daryl." His boss yelled out again, forcing Daryl to rush through his goodbyes before the line disconnected and Calla was left wishing she could just hear his voice again.
· ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·
The next day her parents kept Maverick and her so busy that it was hard for Calla to focus on anything other than the next activity that was thrown at them. The feeling of missing something eased as she listened to the joy coming from her son, and the words, and expressions of happiness that surrounded them.
It was easy to slip into the role of happy mother/daughter when they went to the zoo. Maverick toddled next to them, and when he grew tired he would ride in his stroller, his wide blue eyes filled with wonder, and amazement as he studied each of the animals shown to him.
"Look at this one, Mav," Calla said excitedly as she pulled him from the stroller, and up into her arms. She sensed as her mother would pull out her phone, snapping pictures of the duo, a smile covering her lips, as she laughed in joy, at the way Maverick clapped, and bounced in her arms, as he chanted the animal's name, 'Lion', over and over. Those pictures would immediately be sent to Daryl, Calla knew, as her mother painted a picture for her son-in-law, so he could experience the adventure right along beside them. It warmed her heart to know that he would stop to look at his phone and that there would be a new picture of them, and that she wasn't the one following along after. Though, if she were being honest, there were hundreds of photos of her and Maverick together, Daryl was always the one following along, as he preferred to be behind the camera, stating he needed all the pictures he could get of his two favorite people.
The ones that pictured him in them were usually the ones where he had fallen asleep with Maverick, and Calla was able to sneakily take them, but those had become her favorite, memories close to her heart, burned into her soul, and mind.
"Is this your favorite animal, Maverick?" her father, Albert asked, watching the boy's bursting excitement. He had loved all the animals so far, but this, by far, had gotten the most noise from the boy.
The boy nodded enthusiastically as he began to mimic the growls he had heard on TV, causing the Lion to idly lift his head in interest, before laying it back down, heavily on its front paws.
"We're nearing the end," her mother said.
"We should go get ice cream after," her dad said. "What do you think? It would be a nice cool treat to end the day on." He had turned his gaze onto her, his own whiskey-colored eyes, the same exact shade as her own, questioned her, as they sparkled with the joy, they had immersed themselves with.
"That sounds good, daddy," she nodded, laughing at the crow of happiness that escaped Maverick, as he flung himself toward his grandpa. They began to slowly make their way back toward the entrance, occasionally stopping to see one of the few animals they had left, idle chatter surrounding them, as they basked in the warmth of the fading day, as others around them readied themselves to leave.
"You tell me if Daryl liked them photos," Brianna told her daughter. "I've got plenty more to send his way from this week. I just didn't want to blow up his phone."
"I'm sure he'll love them, mama," Calla soothed. "If he had been here that's all he would be doing. I swear I feel like Maverick, and I are a pair of models when he's around."
"Oh, you leave that boy alone. He's just filling his life with those he loves. It's good he's so involved." Brianna hesitated, before reaching out and squeezing her daughter's arm. "I'm so happy you found yourself a good man, who wants to be involved, and treats you like the queen that you are."
"Honestly, mama, I'm luckier to have him. He's been so good to us. To me."
Calla smiled at the memory of first meeting Daryl back in her last year of college. She had spent spring break back in the hometown of her really good friend from college instead of going home. The girl had talked her into going to the bar, to have drinks, unwind, and release pent-up stress from the workload that had been crammed down their throats at school. It hadn't taken much to talk her into it.
Calla felt herself swaying to the music, the alcohol adding just the right amount of haze to her mind, that she felt all worry, and stress ease away, but she hadn't fallen past the line of being full-blown drunk. That wasn't her goal tonight.
Anna tugged and pulled at her hand, trying to drag her to the dance floor, but Calla resisted, laughing, but waving her on to do it by herself. Dancing, especially the line dance currently being done, would require a lot more alcohol before she dived into it. Anna pouted, her full red lips pursing, as she tried one last time, before she tossed her long red hair over her shoulder, shrugged, blowing Calla a kiss, before diving straight onto the dance floor.
Drink in hand, Calla began to maneuver herself back toward the bar, where she could watch over her friend, and wait patiently for her to rejoin. Anna was like that, flitting about, like a hummingbird, never able to stay in one place for too long, before having to move on. She always came back though, and it didn't bother Calla much.
"Lookie here, baby brotha," came a male's voice, heavy with alcohol, as his words slurred. "Seems I found mahself a southern belle. Yah lost good lookin'. Don' see much of yer kind in these parts. Ole' Merle could show yah a good time."
Calla, confused, glanced around, before realizing that the older man was indeed talking to her, and not to someone else. Though by the southern belle comment, she should have known, it wasn't the first time she was described as such and wouldn't be the last she suspected. Calla figured it was the delicate way she looked, small, tiny, her build speaking of nothing but grace, and her long, blonde hair that was curled to perfection, while her whiskey eyes shined with gentleness, and kindness was what most people pictured when thinking of a southern belle.
A small, polite smile, crossed her lips as she focused on this man, only giving the other one a cursory glance, before classifying him as not a threat.
"Excuse me?" It may have been asked as a question, but her tone was accusatory, as she decided to deal with him head-on, leaving no question of her disinterest. "I think you've got me mixed up with someone else. I'm most certainly not lost and seem to be finding myself having a good time without assistance. As for your other comment, I can only assume you meant female, as you don't seem the kind to attract them with your… vulgar language."
The man in front of her, Merle, if his talking in the third person was to be believed, guffawed, seemingly far too gone to be offended by what she said.
"Yah got a mouth on yah girlie."
"I'm sure that's just something you naturally bring out in people."
"If yah weren' so pretty yah mouth would git yah in trouble." He shook his head, taking another long swig from his beer, hesitating, before just downing the rest. "Yah want another sweet thing?"
"No, thank you." She glanced down to where she had finished her own drink but didn't feel the desire to give in to the temptation of a free drink when it meant politely making small talk with him after.
"Yah sure?" He took a step closer to her, but Calla refused to show that the action put her on edge, as she stood her ground. She was fairly certain that Anna's boyfriend would step in if he saw someone harassing her. Even someone of Merle's size.
"Leave her alone, Merle," scoffed the other male, seemingly growing unamused with his brother's antics, if he had ever been amused in the first place. By the look on his face, Calla suspected that he had grown tired of Merle's actions a long time ago. Calla's eyes bounced over toward him, quickly taking him in, before refocusing back on Merle, who had officially entered her bubble.
"Why? Yah interested brotha?" Merle snickered, his hand moving to reach out for her glass, but Calla simply moved it away from him. She was not going to entertain this man in front of her, and would not cower, she never had before, and wouldn't be starting now.
"He's got more of a chance than you do." She locked gazes with Merle, eyes narrowing, as she dared him to continue. She saw the humor flicker in his eyes before he stepped back, rolling his shoulders, as he waved her off.
"Sure, if yah like ta wussy type." He rolled his eyes, seemingly no longer finding her interesting, or perhaps not wishing to put the effort into pursuing her more, when there would be easier targets elsewhere. "Don' know why I bothered. Good luck." He took off, pushing past those in his way, as he closed the distance between them and the bar.
"Sorry about him," the other man spoke up, his eyes locked onto the back of his brother and ignoring her own curious gaze. "Wish I could say it's cause he's drunk, but Merle's a bastard sober or not."
"He's not the first I've had to deal with," Calla shrugged. "Usually, they don't have a brother who swoops in and intervenes in their assholery." She caught the brief way his lips tugged up into a smile before he smoothed them back out.
"Yah seemed to be doin' all right by yourself. Merle would have grown bored at some point. He likes 'em a bit easier." He seemed to hesitate, taking a swig of his drink before words fell from his lips before he could stop them. "Regardless of how pretty they are."
The smile that adorned Calla's lips was wide and full, hard to miss as she tilted her head, and closely appraised him, now that his brother was no longer her main focus. The man in front of her was the same height as his brother, but lean, lithe, and toned, the opposite of the bulky, burly man from before. In attitude and looks.
She bit her lip.
"Can I buy you a drink?" She was never so forward, but he seemed the type that needed help noticing the interest someone had in him, and she didn't want him to doubt what she so obviously felt. His comment on how he saw her was very much welcomed, sweeter than what she was used to being called, and spoke of the softer undertones she could sense that he hid away. "The names Calla Wells."
She watched the way he nervously bit the tip of his thumb, thinking it over, as he gazed at her, his eyes bouncing around her, lingering on her for only seconds.
"Daryl Dixon."
He ended up paying for the rest of her drinks that night, and for those in the weeks to come.
The memory always brought on a bubbling excitement, as she remembered the way her heart had thundered in her chest, the blush that repeatedly coated her cheeks, and the butterflies that had fluttered dangerously within her stomach. She had taken the first step toward falling in love with him that night, and their dates that followed, even after she went back to college, how he always made time to visit her regardless of the hour's drive, had only shoved her over the edge.
She had been the first to say it, never regretting that decision, as the image burned into her memory of the look of surprise, shock, fear, and then elation that had mottled his expression. Even when he had begun to avoid her for a period of time after, she had still loved him.
Tears streaked her cheeks as her phone call yet again went unanswered by Daryl.
He had looked so happy those few moments after she had let slip how she felt. The emotion had boiled up, spilling over, and she hadn't been able to bottle it back inside, didn't want to, as the knowledge of her affection was finally free. He had moved to kiss her, that Calla knew, but hadn't understood why he suddenly stopped, words on the tip of his tongue, before a gruffer, more serious Daryl had stepped back, apologizing, about what she wasn't sure, maybe about how he was going to flee, and running away was exactly what had happened.
Daryl Dixon had left her standing there, confused, and hurt, as she watched his back, and took in the way he climbed onto that motorcycle and disappeared.
That had been several days ago, and Calla had thought he would get a hold of her, that eventually, he would explain himself, or gently let her down. Perhaps she had moved too fast, but they weren't teenagers, no, she was twenty-six, graduated from college only a few months before, and was entering the next phase of her life. A phase that she had wanted to include him in. Calla hadn't wanted to waste a moment with him. She had always been upfront about everything, and her feelings were not an exception.
He had known that.
So, why did he run?
Not being able to take it anymore, Calla did the only thing she could think to do, and that was to confront him, force him to pay attention to her and demand an answer for his actions. Calla did not play games.
Getting into her car, fueled by pain, and the desire for answers, Calla made the hour's drive to his house, parked out front of the run-down trailer that he shared with Merle, and slammed the door of her car as seeing the place fueled her anger. He would be here, she knew, as it was well within the time he usually got home from work, as he rarely went out unless it was the weekend, or Merle was forcing him.
Not allowing the pain to peek out, to cause her to turn and run, Calla engulfed herself in the anger she felt at being abandoned after bearing her soul to him.
Her fist raised, banging against the door loudly, as she glared at the offending piece of wood that separated her from the source of her ire. When the door was flung open it wasn't to the sight of her boyfriend, but instead to the sight of his brother, blurry eyed, and angry looking, that only turned slightly annoyed when he caught sight of her.
"Take yer lover's quarrel elsewhere, girlie," he grumped. "I don' wanna hear it."
"Where is he, Merle?" Her voice wavered, with tears, or fury, she wasn't sure, but Calla was certain that it would end with her crying either way.
"Fuckin' comin' over here, banging on the damn door like ta damn police, and actin' like yah own ta place." His voice raised with his irritation, usually milder-mannered ever since she started dating his brother, but apparently, Merle didn't like people barging in, being pissed, and throwing out demands. Calla couldn't blame him but was far from caring at this point. "He's in his goddamn room, like every other fuckin' day, since he burst down that door, lookin' like he had been plowed down by a truck. Yer work, I fuckin' recon."
"He didn't take kindly to me telling him I loved him."
Normally Calla wouldn't have said a damn thing about what went on between Daryl and her, but she was feeling spiteful, and hurt, and just wanted to understand his actions, and denial of her, that she was desperate enough to search for an inkling of understanding about Daryl from Merle. He knew his brother better than anyone else, even her, and for once thought herself justified in her reasoning.
Merle blinked, looking confused, for just a moment, before he was shaking his head, and cursing under his breath.
"Fuckin' pussy," he grumbled. "Is that all? The both of yah make me sick. I've been dealin' with all that mopin' and here I thought yah broke up with his sorry ass." He shook his head, the annoyance rising, as he grabbed at his keys, and threw her a glare. "Fuckin' have him fixed by ta time I get back. I ain't dealin' with ta shit no more." He tugged her inside, shoving her toward the back of the trailer where she knew Daryl's bedroom was. "Go on, one of yah has got ta have some balls. Fuck him, ditch him, I don' give a shit, but git done whateva's gonna happen. Either yah make up or move on, but I ain't livin' like tis no more."
Merle then stepped outside and slammed the door shut.
She was left alone, some of her anger dying out, as she made to move down the short hallway.
He was hurting too?
But why?
Calla needed answers, but first, she had to regain what courage drove her over here. She raised her hand to knock at his door, hesitating for a moment, trying to prepare herself for what was to come.
Calla was thrown from her memories as they stepped out of the zoo, having made their way toward the car, even in her daze she had managed to follow along without getting lost, that hadn't been what drug her from her reminiscing. No, someone had screamed. If it hadn't been for the look of concern that crossed over her parent's expressions, she would have thought she had simply imagined it, after all, she hadn't been paying attention at all, but the way they searched around the area told her everything she needed to know.
"Do you think someone is in trouble, dear?" asked her mother as she turned to her father.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe just some kids messing around?"
They resumed their walk, but Calla could see the way they were on edge, the ease with which they joked with Maverick was replaced with a more reserved tone. Maverick caught on, his excitement, and pleas for what kind of ice cream he could get dying on his tongue, as he laid his head down on his grandfather's shoulder. His thumb popped into his mouth, a habit that both Calla and Daryl had tried to break him of, but it wasn't going well.
He was stubborn.
A trait that Calla had tried to blame solely on Daryl, but knew Maverick came by it honestly between the two of them.
It had led to many moments of the couple butting heads on a topic.
The family had almost fallen into a sense of ease, having decided it was probably just someone messing around, or having accidentally scared someone else, when another scream broke through the air, the mass of people around them stumbling back, as an oppressive wave of fear rattled throughout the group, suffocating Calla, as she tried to figure out what had caused the change.
Ahead of them, where people were now trying to flee, stood a man, dripping blood from his mouth, his gate aggressive, and off balance, as he flung himself at the nearest person. He tackled them to the ground, brutally forcing his way onto the woman, as she screamed, and clawed, trying to buck him off, but he was relentless, and soon those sobs were only hellacious moans, as the sound turned wet and scared.
The man, high on drugs, or simply having just lost his mind, stood up, interest piqued by the noise from the crowd, as he let out a low growl, before lumbering toward where Calla and her family were.
Albert forced Brianna and his daughter back, shifting the boy in his arms, before carefully, and hurriedly telling her to take her son. Calla obeyed instantly, arms wrapping protectively around him, as she buried his head in her collarbone, trying to keep him from witnessing what was going on. Albert then began to guide his wife and daughter around a set of cars, trying to avoid the panicked people around him, as his instincts from his time as a cop kicked in. Their car was behind the threat, they wouldn't be able to keep going forward, but if they could go around, he could still get them safely to the car.
As long as this was an isolated instance and not a sign of more people losing their minds.
Calla led the way, her father keeping behind them, eyeing the man carefully, watching as he attacked someone else, and making sure they stayed a healthy distance away from them.
Her heart pounded in her eyes, sounding impossibly loud, and drowning out any other sound, but she forced her focus to stay on the scene around them as her feet carried her further away from the danger, and hopefully toward safety. In her arms Maverick softly shook, his eyes shut tightly, as he whimpered from the sounds around them. She tried to keep from jostling him, drawing him closer to her, as she whispered words of comfort into his ear, even as her own panic forced itself through her.
Hadn't she just told Daryl they would be fine? That nothing crazy ever happened here?
God, she wished he was here, the one helping direct them, and protecting them. She didn't feel safe. Her heart was beating so fast that Calla worried it would beat right out of her chest.
A man stumbled into her, forcing her off balance, and she was almost sent careening toward the ground, but at the same moment, her mother was behind her, refocusing her, as her father began to coax them forward.
Only for them to come to a stumbling stop as a woman in front of them, looking just as horrifying as the man from before, stepped out from behind a car. Her limping gate came to a stop, as her head slowly turned, a low keen escaping her mouth before she was lurching forward.
Her father stepped in front of them. His hand holding a firearm he carried everywhere with him; the same one he had carried since before his days on the force.
"Stop," he ordered. "Come closer and I'll be forced to shoot." He tried to reason with her, to get her to quit advancing on them, but the pleas fell on deaf ears, and the sound of the gun going off caused Calla to flinch, as her ears rang. Maverick began to cry in her arms, the sound deafening, loud, as they echoed off the crowd around them doing much of the same.
The bullet pierced the woman's leg, only it hadn't stopped her in her tracks, she hadn't seemed to even notice it, as she only picked up her pace. Another gunshot, this time hitting her shoulder, but she merely jerked back with the motion, before barreling forward. Albert hesitated, a hand coming up to knock her away, as she gripped tightly at his arm, tugging, and pulling him toward her before suddenly there was excruciating pain in his arm, and he jerked himself back. His hand came up, his aim forced to take the kill shot, as she finally went down.
"Daddy!" Calla yelled, watching as the blood flowed from the gash, a clear bite mark marring the skin.
"Albert! Brianna cried as she moved to wrap an arm around him.
"I'm all right," he said. "It's gonna be okay. Let's just get to the car."
He managed to push them along, the four of them stumbling toward the car, as Calla threw herself into the back with Maverick, moving to buckle him in, as her parents settled up front.
Her father threw the car into gear, backing up into the chaos, as he laid on his horn, warning the people around them that he was coming through, and that there would be no stopping in the sea of panic.
Calla hovered over Maverick, keeping his focus on her, and not on the chaos outside the windows of the car, as she tried forcing the sobs back down her throat, in lieu of singing his favorite nursery rhyme.
What kind of hell had they been thrown into?
