More Than This

by Graveyard Whispers

Naomi Payton was Daryl Dixon's childhood best friend. In truth, they were each others only friend. But sometimes growing up means growing apart and when Naomi's ambitions and Daryl's loyalty to his brother drive a wedge between them, will the world falling apart be enough to bring them together again? Hell, will they even find each other again?

71. A Sign

Naomi

Midnight came, and with it, Marissa's soft knock on my door.

I waited for the sound of the wheels on Marissa's cleaning cart to fade before I opened the door. When I did, the hallway was empty. I walked quickly down it. If I got caught out of my room, the cover was that I wasn't feeling well and on my way to see Jocelyn.

Marrissa was waiting for me in one of the camera's blind spots. Not daring to say hello or make any more noise than we had to, we nodded to each other. She lifted the corner of the long cloth covering the bottom of her cleaning cart. I ducked under it and sat with my knees pulled to my chin. She'd stripped it of every cleaning supply she could get away with not having with her, and there was just about enough space for me if I scrunched up really small.

Another thing that's going to get harder the more the baby grows…

The cloth dropped back down to cover me, and Marissa wheeled the trolley on her way. I rattled around against the metal bottom of the cart alongside industrial-sized bottles of bleach, floor cleaning fluid, and a box of wipes. One of the wheels was squeaky, and it always got squeakier when I was in there.

I felt the cart come to a stop, heard a door unlock, and then Marissa wheeled us both into the communications room. The first few times she'd done it, I kept expecting the Colonel to be there and this to be some elaborate set-up as payback for the Savior war. But, so far, she hadn't double-crossed me.

"Clear," she said, lifting the edge of the cloth again so that I could climb out.

The communications room was small. A long desk took up most of one wall. The HAM radio sat on top of it, and a black office chair was placed in front. There was a large cupboard full of spare parts for the radio and other equipment. They had their own short-range walkies on charging stands in there. The Colonel also had neat piles of files, folders, and notebooks. I hadn't looked at any of them. There was never time.

"Five minutes," Marissa reminded me. I nodded. She left, locking the door behind her.

I made my usual round of calls. First, I called the three frequencies I thought Hilltop might be using.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Nothing.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Nothing.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Nothing.

Then, I filtered through a systematic range of random frequencies. At the start of this, I'd been hoping and praying that one of them would be picked up by someone I knew. Now, I longed for anyone to pick up.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Something came back in a language I didn't recognize. I should have switched to another frequency right away, but it was so nice to hear something from a world outside of this one, to have proof that something other than this bunker still existed. I listened until they stopped whatever they were trying to say.

"My name is Naomi Dixon," I said. "It's nice to hear from ya, even if you don't know what I'm saying."

There was another pause, and then they replied. I didn't understand a word, but it sounded friendly. Hopeful. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

"I hope you're okay," I said. I hope you're doing well wherever you are. I hope you find whoever you're looking for."

They said something in return, and it might have just been my overwhelming loneliness, but it felt like they were wishing me something similar. Could have been nothing, of course, but it felt like everything.

"Good luck, friend."

I switched frequencies and cycled through the next few. Nothing else came back. I was almost out of time. I ended like I always did, with another call to each of the three potential Hilltop frequencies.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Nothing.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Nothing.

"If you receive this call, please answer."

Something crackled. An indistinct voice in the static, too quiet to make out any words. My heart leaped in my chest.

"Is someone there? Can you hear me?" I asked. My heart was beating hard in my throat, the way it always did when I thought I was about to get through to someone. "Hilltop, do you copy? Maggie, are you there?"

"How do you know that name?" A suspicious voice. Female. One I didn't recognize, but the accent was American and not too far from home.

I sat bolt upright, shivers running up and down my every nerve. Goosebumps rippled across my skin. "Which name? Maggie? Or Hilltop?"

There were probably many Maggies in the world, but how many communities called Hilltop would still be standing? How many Hilltops would know a Maggie? No answer came back. The seconds felt like they stretched on for hours. With every passing moment, I felt that voice slipping further away. Eventually, it came back, "Don't call here again."

"Wait! Wait! Please," I tried again, desperation making me louder than I probably should have been. "My name is Naomi Dixon. I'm trying to find my way home."

Silence. I kept trying, but I knew they'd switched it off.

Fuck.

I could've thrown the damn thing across the room. I wanted to scream but couldn't. If I was found in here, they'd probably never let me be conscious again. I took a few deep breaths and shoved it all as deep down inside as I could.

Marissa knocked before she unlocked the door. It was our usual signal so that when I heard the key, I would know it was her and not the Colonel returning unexpectedly. There were very few hiding spots. I climbed back into the space under the cart. Marissa wheeled it back to our usual blind spot, and I made my way back to my room.

This was usually the worst part - returning to bed knowing I'd have to wait another twenty-four hours to try again. And we couldn't go every night; Marrissa wasn't always on duty and couldn't sign out the keys we needed if she wasn't.

I lay in bed and closed my eyes, playing the conversations I'd managed to have over and over in my mind. I told myself that whoever I'd spoken to hadn't been from Hilltop. Because if they were… we were fucked. I'd never get home.

A siren cut through everything, even my growing despair.

Loud.

The kind of shrill wail that cuts right to the part of your brain that runs on instinct. Gets you on your feet and running before you have time to assess the danger. For a crazy second, I thought it was a delayed alarm that Marissa and I must have set off, but the corridor was already full when I ran to the door. People seemed to know which direction to flow in. I moved with the current while I tried to determine what was going on and where the danger might be coming from.

Is this it?

Is it about to blow?

The lights pulsated between the usual pale yellow and a deep red. Every two seconds, we were bathed in a blood-like red. I looked around, catching the eye of a few frightened and panicking people. Nobody spoke. We wouldn't be able to hear each other over the din.

The crowd surged toward one end of the hallway, meeting with another line coming around the corner. I looked up, trying to peer over the heads of those in front of me.

No way.

The door was open. And the crowd was heading out of it.

Holy shit.

My heart started racing in a whole other way. Fear turned to hope so fast I could hardly breathe. Whatever was happening here no longer mattered. The chance of escape that had just landed in my lap was all I could think about.

Bare feet back in the dirt. After so long in sterile air, the tunnels felt positively fresh. I inhaled, shaking. Could I remember the way back to the dirt room I'd woken up in? That trapdoor that might lead me out of here? It had been weeks, and I'd only made the journey once. But I'd prefer to take my chances wandering these underground catacombs than be sealed into that bunker again.

The crowd crushed against one another down narrow tunnels. They pushed me along, turning down bends in the tunnels. The sound of the sirens faded into the background. Turning and walking against them would be like trying to swim upstream. I needed to wait for an opportunity, an alcove to duck into and let them all pass, a turning I could take and leave them behind. Light flickered, bouncing off the rock; some were holding lanterns. Behind me, others had handheld flashlights, their beams stronger but more direct.

We turned again, stepping through an opening in the rock wall. It looked man-made. A perfect archway for one person to walk through at a time. It did nothing to prepare me for the vast space I was walking into - a wide, cavernous opening under the earth. The roof was so tall that it was mostly hidden in shadow. Looking up made me dizzy. Something dangled from the darkness. I squinted, waiting for some of the flickering light to hit it. When it did, I wished it hadn't.

Two chains hung from the ceiling. Rusted and snapped off at the bottom.

Nope.

Don't like that.

I backed away. I'd stand by the entrance and wait for the stream to slow down to a trickle. And then I'd run. I might be lost here for a few days, but there had to be a way out, right?

Sherry grabbed my arm before I could get there. She pulled me over to where Dwight, Amber, and Mark were huddled by one of the cavern walls.

If this had been a normal day in the bunker, I'd have thought it was too risky for us all to stand together like this, but everyone else was too preoccupied with whatever emergency was unfolding to care who we were talking to amongst ourselves. Which was for the best; Amber was doing a bad job of hiding her excitement.

"I knew it," Amber said. "I knew this would work."

"This was you?" I asked. Amber nodded, smiling at Sherry.

"We figured there had to be some kind of evacuation plan," Sherry said, "for if something goes wrong in there - a fire or something."

Risky .

They might have blown us all up.

I hadn't told Sherry or Amber about the explosives yet. It didn't feel like helpful information. Living down here was hard enough without the knowledge that you could go up in smoke at any second. I'd certainly had trouble sleeping since I'd found out.

"What did you do?"

"Gas leak," Sherry said. "In the kitchen. It'll look like an accident."

I looked at Dwight and Mark. "Do you know the way out from here?"

"I think so," Dwight said quietly with a small nod.

"We can slip out," I said, equally as quietly. "Once everyone has filed in here, we can choose our moment and get out."

A nod ran through the group. I scanned the crowd and caught Marissa's eye. She and John were stuck on the other side of the crowd. I kept looking at the frightened faces of our bunkermates. It was the first time I'd seen a lot of them. And there were a lot of them. I wasn't used to seeing so many people in one space. There was still no sign of Callie. Still no sign of a single goddamn child. No babies were crying, even after the noise from those sirens, which could still be heard echoing down the tunnels.

I couldn't see Jocelyn yet, but it was a big group of people, so there was every chance someone else blocked her from view. The Colonel was one of the last to enter. All eyes fell on him like he was their messiah. Before he'd said a word, I felt the atmosphere relax. He had the opposite effect on me. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I couldn't trust anyone who had this much control over their following.

"Don't worry," he told them. His voice boomed off the walls, a slight echo bouncing back to him. "It's just a small malfunction. A mistake. We'll be back home in no time."

Speak for yourself.

Applause rang out through the cavern. It took me a moment to join in, mostly because I didn't understand why we were clapping for nothing. He hadn't announced anything. Hadn't told us anything of substance. Had done anything for any of them. The Colonel smiled, basking in it, walking deeper into his crowd. They parted for him without him having to ask or demand it. While his back was to us, we moved closer to the entrance, inching along the wall.

We were the first to notice the sound in the tunnels. The first to hear them coming. Our ears were better tuned to it. Under the clapping, under the distant echoing sirens… the whisper of the dead.

"Stop!" Dwight yelled. "Stop clapping!"

The smile vanished from the Colonel's face, immediately replaced by a frown. "What-"

"Listen," Dwight urged him.

I watched the realization hit him before his followers. These people had prepared themselves to take shelter in any kind of apocalypse - nuclear war, environmental disaster, pandemic - but their strategy for surviving the end of the world hinged on separating themselves from it. They had no idea how to live in it. Very, very few of them went outside. How many of them had faced a Walker before? How many people had died naturally and turned in the bunker?

The Colonel knew what it was like out there, although I wasn't sure how much experience he had actually facing them. His team of scavengers, who'd been outside with Dwight, knew what it was like, and I could see the fear slowly creeping onto their faces. But the others still couldn't hear it. They still looked puzzled. They had, at least, shut the hell up.

I listened harder, trying to work out how many were coming. Hardly any of the people here were armed; the Colonel only let his most trusted followers carry weapons. Common sense would have told me to be more frightened than I was, but I only felt hope. If Walkers were getting in, there had to be a way out .

Bart was walking toward the entrance, a gun raised. There was only one way in and out of here. With a small number of Walkers, that could be played to our advantage. They could only get in one at a time, so we could take them out before they could do too much damage. But, if all the noise down here had drawn a herd…it wouldn't take much to be overrun.

I grabbed Bart's arm. "Not the gun!"

"Back up!" he yelled. He should have known better. He'd been outside. But he wasn't used to fighting them in enclosed spaces.

"Stop shouting," I hissed. "They can hear."

"She's right," Dwight stepped forward. He'd drawn a knife. "It's the noise that's attracting them."

"Right now, they'll be drawn toward the sirens in the bunker and heading that way," I said. "But if ya'll keep clapping and hollerin' they'll be here before you know it."

"The door is open." The Colonel's face paled, "We can't let them get in."

"Sir?" Bart stood to attention. "Orders?"

"Make sure the bunker is secure," he said. "And close the door. We need those working inside to fix the gas leak to be able to do so in peace."

Bart nodded. He motioned to a few others, including Dwight. Dwight nodded and moved forward, but not before I saw him pass a knife to Sherry. It flashed briefly in the dim light before she hid it up her sleeve. Mark passed one of his knives to Amber.

Amber, Sherry, and I huddled near the entranceway, listening. Most other folks had backed away from it, terrified of what might stumble through. The Colonel turned to them all, tried to give them a quiet but comforting speech. All eyes were on him. His back was to us.

"This is it," I hissed under my breath. "This is our chance."

"Let me go first," Sherry muttered, brushing past me. I didn't argue. She, at least, had a knife. Sherry slipped through the archway in the rock and back into the darkness of the tunnel.

Before I followed her, I glanced back to check to see if anybody was watching. The lights of the flashlights and oil lamps were turned toward the Colonel, illuminating him in the center of the cavern.

I hope this is the last time I see any of you fuckers.

I stepped out of the cavern. A few seconds later, Amber followed. The darkness was almost all-enveloping. The only light came from the cavern we'd just left. It shrank the more we moved, darkness growing around us. We had to feel our way along the walls, using the sounds to guide us. It felt so wrong to be walking toward the snarl of the dead. Went against every instinct we'd spent over two years building.

The sirens stopped. Somebody must have shut them off.

I kept expecting someone to come up behind us and drag us back to the Colonel in the cavern. I was grateful that Amber was taking up the rear. Kept imagining a hand on my back.

Progress was slow. Very slow. We had to feel for turnings, trying to remember the hurried route we'd taken here. The tunnels felt longer than before, stretching on in a neverending labyrinth. Every now and then we came across a body on the floor. Walkers, or so we hoped, Sherry would shout back to us when she came across one, and we'd have to feel our way around it, stepping over them. Praying not to put our bare feet through a ribcage.

We turned a corner. Not far off, a beam of light cut a horizontal line across the ground. Someone had dropped a flashlight. Sherry moved toward it. The small amount of light allowed us to move faster than we had before. A body lay on the ground just beside the flashlight. Behind me, I heard Amber gasp.

Neither of them needed to worry; it wasn't Dwight or Mark. Bart's unseeing eyes stared at us, and I wish I could say I felt even a little bit bad about it, but I didn't. I picked up his flashlight and stepped over him.

Moving faster now we had something to see by, we hurried toward the bunker in search of Dwight and Mark. Had they taken out Bart so it would be easier for us to escape? Or had a Walker got him? The sound of the dead was getting louder. There were other sounds mixed in, too. The crack of skulls and the occasional grunt of someone wielding a heavy weapon.

We turned another corner, emerging into the tunnel that led back to the bunker door. They'd managed to close it. It gleamed at one end of the tunnel. Shadows moved ahead of us. Many of the Colonel's men were there, but I could make out Dwight too. The dead were easy to distinguish, with their uncoordinated but violent movements. There were so many more than I thought there'd be. I still struggled to feel anything other than hope.

I looked in the opposite direction from the door I didn't want to go back through. The dead were still filing down the tunnel away from it. I flipped the flashlight in my hand, testing the weight of the handle. I'd feel better if it were heavier, but it would have to do.

Sherry darted out ahead of me, her knife taking out a Walker close to us. I ducked out of the grip of another, turning to smash it in the skull with the back of my flashlight. It didn't go down right away. I had to hit it again. Brains and blood scattered across the walls.

I need a better weapon.

Or I just need to run.

There was a gap in the oncoming trickle of Walkers. I saw my chance, and I took it. I ran. The beam of the flashlight swung around in front of me. I could hear footsteps behind me as others followed, but I didn't wait. I didn't slow down. I just wanted to leave. As I ran through the dark, barely seeing more than a few feet in front of me, I tried to remember the route I'd taken when I'd woken up here, ill and cold and shaking. I tried to play it backward. Ahead of me, there was a turn to the left. Slightly further on, the tunnel curved to the right. I could hear more just around the bend.

Is it left or right?

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

I took the left. It was the wrong move, I knew it at once. Instead of more tunnels like I had expected, I was in another cavern. Not as big as the one the Colonel had evacuated us to, but still disorientingly big when you've spent so many weeks in enclosed spaces. I stopped to catch my breath, hearing the sound of Walkers getting closer. With any luck, they'd walk right past. I moved the beam of my flashlight around the cavern in search of anything that would serve as a better weapon. The beam landed on an unmovable shadow.

Someone stood with their back to me. I bit back a scream. They didn't move. Didn't even turn around. They were so still, I knew it couldn't be a Walker unless it was frozen.

"Hey," I called. "You alright? Are you hurt?"

They didn't turn at the sound of my voice. I swept the beam of my flashlight over it as I approached cautiously. It wasn't a person. It wasn't even a goddamn Walker stuck in something.

It was a dummy.

Faceless. Eyeless. Smooth plastic that would outlive us all. Even the Walkers would rot before it did. It was dressed in work clothes and a hardhat. A headlamp was strapped around it.

Holy shit.

The tunnels weren't just tunnels. This had been some kind of mine. Decommissioned long before society collapsed and turned into a goddamn mining museum.

A laugh bubbled up inside me. When I got out, there'd be maps. Signposts. I could work out where I was and how to get home. I could bring them all something from the goddamn gift shop.

I took the hard hat off the mannequin's head and put it on my own. I fiddled with the headlamp to see if I could get it on. It flickered into existence. The light was weak, but it still worked. A pickaxe was discarded in a pile of rocks at its feet. It looked rusty but usable, especially for taking out Walkers. Was it plastic too?

I picked it up. It was real. But heavy. I'd need two hands to maintain control of it. I slipped the flashlight into the pocket of my dress, keeping it on but relying mostly on the weaker light from the headlamp to see by.

Armed and ready, I headed back out to the tunnels. Walkers snarled at me from the gloom. I swung the pickaxe hard, piercing the skull of the Walker coming toward me with a crunch. When the corpse dropped, no longer reanimated, the pickaxe almost dropped from my hand, too.

I'm out of practice.

I swung at the next one, pushing forward down the tunnel, away from the fucking bunker. Someone was shouting behind me, but I didn't turn. I hoped it was Dwight, Sherry, Amber, and Mark, but I wasn't waiting to find out. I was getting out of here.

I'm coming, Daryl. Hold on.

Some crazy part of me hoped he'd feel it. Deep down, where he was probably hurting the most, he'd feel the same pull toward me that I was feeling toward him. It spurred me on and pushed me forward faster than ever. The pickaxe was heavy, but I hardly felt it. I'd feel it the next day; my muscles would ache, but it didn't matter. Maybe they'd be aching at home.

I reached a tunnel that was more dirt than rock. There weren't any Walkers here, but there were wooden doors leading off. I counted them until I reached the one I was sure I'd woken up behind.

Shoving on the door did nothing, so I took the pickaxe to it, smashing a hole big enough to climb through. This was it. This was the room I'd woken up in. The pile of blankets was gone, but the trapdoor was in the ceiling.

I pushed up on it. It didn't budge like last time, but that didn't matter. I grabbed the pickaxe and swung it up again. Splinters of wood rained down on me. I looked up at the hole made by the end of the pickaxe. I froze.

No.

No, no, no.

There's a whole herd up there.

I could hear them. Smell them. The noise I'd been making agitated them. Their frenzied hands clawed at the gap I'd made.

Fuck.

This was not a safe exit. I backed away. I needed to find Dwight. He knew the way out. I climbed back through the hole I'd smashed in the door and started running back the way I'd come. The Walkers I'd taken out littered the route, serving as markers to guide me back.

The shadow of a person moved toward me, rounding a corner before they did. I kept moving, raising the pickaxe in case it was another Walker.

When the Colonel rounded the corner, I wished it was.

"There you are," the Colonel said. "Thank you for your work today. The tunnels are clear. It's safe to return home."

I wish that was true.

I did not drop the pickaxe. My hands clenched around it, and I stared at him. Breathing hard.

It would be so easy to take him out. To kill him and keep running. But where would I be running to? There was a flicker of fear in his eyes as he saw me weighing up the idea. He swallowed and raised his hands.

"This has been a trying day for all of us," he said. "I can see you're struggling with the violence that's happened here today. Do I need to call someone to get something to calm you down?"

No.

Not the drugs.

Not again.

"No, I'm okay," I said, lowering the pickaxe. "It's just… it's been a while since I've seen any of those. I… I think I'm in shock."

"Understandable," he nodded. "Let's go."

Daryl

"Can I stay here and help Enid in the medical tent?" Mia tried to sound all casual, but I knew she was desperate for me to say yes. Being a year or two older made Enid the coolest girl on the planet in Mia's eyes—any excuse to be around here and follow what she was doing. I wanted to grab her shoulders, shake her, and tell her she was perfect and didn't need to try to be like anyone else. But I'd followed Merle's dumb friends just because they were older than me. At least Enid was a good kid.

"I dunno…" I said, glancing at Enid and Siddiq. The unease I felt had nothing to do with them and everything to do with the idea that Mia would be out of my sight while I was working on the bridge.

"We can always use the extra hands," Siddiq said. Mia looked at me with wide eyes as if the world would end all over again if I said no.

"All right," I agreed reluctantly. "But any of them Saviors start kicking off, you come and find me, okay? Immediately."

"She'll be safe here, Daryl," Siddiq said, "Don't worry."

I ignored him. Kept looking at Mia. "You hear me?"

"Yes," she said quickly.

"Right," I nodded. I knew better than to keep arguing or hug Mia while she was trying to appear cool as a cucumber in front of Enid. So, I nodded again and left them to it. The tent flap fluttered closed behind me.

"Sorry," Mia said, her voice carrying through the tent's thin walls. Sounding like the most embarrassed teenager on the entire planet. "My Dad's, like, weirdly overprotective."

Dad?

DAD?

My feet rooted themselves to the ground. A deep ache opened in my chest even as I tried to convince myself I must've misheard her. Such a big word couldn't fit me. I didn't measure up to all that.

"I've noticed," Siddiq chuckled like Mia had cracked a little joke and not uttered the most life-altering words I'd heard since Naomi agreed to marry me.

"You guys have been through a lot lately," Enid said sympathetically. "Makes sense. It's nice how much he cares."

"Yeah," Mia agreed. "It's been hard for him since we lost Mom."

Oh God.

Oh God, I can't do this.

I almost turned around and went back in, scooped her up into a hug she could never leave. But something stopped me.

Did she mean it?

I wanted her to. Every piece of my broken heart wanted her to, but…family was complicated. I knew that. Losing Naomi put her in a vulnerable place. She could have been latching onto anything she could for some stability. I was glad it was me. But, when her feet were back on solid ground, she might change her mind.

Aaron's hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me out of it. "You ready?"

"Not so loud, man," I hissed, dragging him away from the medical tent.

"Woah," Aaron looked over his shoulder like he was expecting Negan's ghosts to sneak up on us. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," I said, ushering him away as fast as possible. Rick had assigned us a job laying the new boards across the bridge the storm had taken out. Aaron followed. He didn't say anything, but I could feel him staring at me. Couldn't think of a reasonable explanation so I let him wonder.

I tried to focus on lifting planks of wood and carrying them to the end of the slowly mending bridge, laying them in place. Usually, having a job like this to do would be a godsend. But the planks weren't that heavy. Getting them lined up wasn't so hard. There was little strain and no pain, so my mind kept spinning. Mia's words echoed in there.

It had been right not to let her know I'd heard, hadn't it?

Whatever Mia was working through, she should do it on her terms, right?

She hadn't known I was listening, and it was so… personal. Could make her feel real vulnerable if it wasn't something she was ready to say to me. She could have been testing it out and trying it on for size. I didn't want her to feel pressured into sticking to it if she felt it wasn't a good fit. There must've been a reason she said it about me to someone else, instead of to my face.

Unless she thinks I wouldn't be okay with it.

That I'd correct her.

Reject her by saying something dumb like, 'You're a good kid, but I'm just your sister's ex-fiance, and I'm only looking after you out of guilt because it's my fault she's dead, and you're alone now.'

She knows it ain't like that, right?

Right?

I dropped the board I was carrying and looked at the medical tent. Aaron yelped in surprise. His side of the plank dropped on his foot.

"Sorry, man," I said, fighting the urge to straight up walk away from him. There were a lot of people out here on the worksite. It was even busier than when we'd arrived. Mia would be busy with Enid… Carl and Perla had arrived from Alexandria, so she'd probably be eager to spend some time working with them, too. Maybe this wasn't the best time to have a heavy conversation.

Aaron glanced at me, "Okay, Daryl, I gotta know. What happened?"

I sighed, and picked up the end of the wooden board again. I couldn't look at him, so I focused real hard on getting one foot in front of the other as we carried it to the end of the bridge. "Mia called me her Dad."

There was a short silence, and then Aaron said. "... Is that the first time she's done that?"

"Yeah," I glanced up at him. Mostly just to see his reaction 'cause I couldn't gauge much from his voice. He didn't look that surprised. Or shocked. Or horrified. Something about that relaxed me a little. "She didn't say it to my face or anything. I overheard her talking to Siddiq and Enid, but… yeah, she ain't ever done that before."

I knelt down as we slid the board into place.

"That's big, Daryl, but…" Aaron paused. "It makes sense."

"It does?"

Why?

Because she's got nobody else?

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Bryce is always talking about how close you guys are and how he's glad she has you. Especially now. It's given her a lot of stability at a really bad time."

I didn't know what else to say. There was too much tangled inside me.

Aaron let us work in silence for a moment before he said, "You feeling weird about it?"

"No. Maybe. Just… I just… hope I'm what she needs, is all."

"You're a great Dad."

I still couldn't wrap my head around it, so I changed the subject. "How's Gracie?"

"Perfect. Obviously," he said with a smile. "I can't wait for the first time she calls me Dad. Gets me through all the more... Interesting times we're having right now."

"Oh yeah?"

"So, yesterday, I went in after her nap and picked her up, and the diaper just exploded all over me.

"Sounds like good times."

"Oh, the best," Aaron laughed.

Before we had time to talk about anything else, a loud crash pulled our attention down to the other side of the bridge. I stood up from where I was crouched down and squinted against the glare of the sun and some kind of commotion involving Justin. He stood with his back to me, holding up the water container and drinking from it like it wasn't meant to be shared with the group.

Henry, who was usually in charge of distributing water rations, glared daggers at him. Before anyone could move, he'd whacked Justin's knees with one of the sticks he and the other Kingdom kids carried for protection. It was meant for walkers, not assholes, but I guess it was effective for both. Justin dropped like a sack of potatoes. Laughter rose up around the bridge, but I didn't feel good about it. I started moving toward them as Justin got to his feet.

Henry had picked up the water and started to walk away. He had his back to Justin, who was advancing on him in a way I didn't like. I grabbed him before he could get there.

"Hey! Kid's just doing his job," I said. "Get back to work."

"I don't need your people telling me what to do," Justin glared. "You're not my babysitter anymore."

He turned his back on me again. I grabbed his arm. This time, when he turned back, he swung a punch at me. I dodged it. Punched him back. Justin grabbed a fistful of sawdust and threw it in my face. My eyes stung.

It was an all-out brawl in seconds.

Felt good to be fighting. Especially good that it was Justin I was punching. We had a lotta history. I'd always known he was an ass, always had a bad feeling about him, and never been able to prove it. The way he looked at me now… like everything that had gone wrong was my fault… the fact that he was right about that…

God, it felt good to hit him again.

"Enough!" Rick pulled me off him. I tried to get to him again. "I said enough!"

Fuck you.

I stormed off that bridge and into the tent Rick had set up as a meeting and planning room. Carol was already in there. Rick followed me in. He told me that Aaron and I would be reassigned to a different task, and Justin would stay working on the bridge.

Couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. "So that asshole just gets a free pass? Is that it?"

"It's just a few more days. I don't like it either, but we're in a rush to get that work done," Rick said. "He's strong. The Saviors are over half the workforce, and we've had too many walk off already."

"Yeah, 'cause that's who they are," I said. "Some of them ain't ever gonna fall in line just 'cause you say so."

"Daryl's right," Carol said. "These people have never had to live together. And we can't expect them to just forget what's happened."

"It hasn't been easy, I know," Rick said like that was any kind of constellation. "It won't be, not for a while, but it's not about forgetting. It's about moving ahead, all of us, together. We keep doing that; they'll see we're all on the same side."

"Are we, though?" I said. "Are we on the same side, Rick?"

"Well, you tell me."

"Thing is, man, I've been tryin' to," I said. "But you don't seem to wanna hear it."

I walked out of the tent again. I needed a minute. Rick called after me, but I didn't turn around. If he thought that I'd forgotten that Carol was the only reason Mia and I weren't still stuck in Sanctuary, he was damn wrong.

Mia.

What am I supposed to do about Mia?

More than ever, I wished Naomi was here. She'd know what I should do, whether to let Mia come to me on her own or talk to her about it myself.

My feet carried me away from the bridge and down to the river. I knew Rick would be mad if he saw me go, but I wasn't walking off. I just needed a minute. Quiet. We'd been living out of tents on this damn worksite for days, and there were so many people around all the time. I walked a little way down the riverbank. The sound of running water drowned out the noise of construction. Quiet except for the sounds of nature. This was what I needed. Well… almost.

"Havin' a weird day, angel," I said to nobody, hoping the right person could hear somehow. The sound of the river probably drowned it out, but I don't think that matters so much when you're talking to a ghost. "Mia called me her Dad today…. And she… she called you her Mom, and I don't know…"

The rest of it got stuck in a lump in my throat. My cheeks were wet. I wiped them, noticing my hands were shaking.

"I need you," I said, my voice cracking. The rest of me cracked, too. It all spilled out of me. I was getting good at keeping a lid on it, but overhearing Mia callin' me her Dad had loosened that lid. "Tell me what to do. How to handle it."

The river kept running. The wind whispered through the trees.

"Please," I sank to my knees in the dirt like I was praying. "Please, baby. I need you. I need to see you… please… give me something. Fuckin' haunt me. Give me a sign. Anythin'."

I waited. Knowing it was dumb. Knowing there was likely nobody listening. Or even if she was, what could she do?

But it was hard to live with the kind of faith in someone we'd had in each other and have that disappear overnight. She'd always come through for me when I'd asked her. Now, I was asking, begging, and she couldn't respond. I still felt like she would. Like we were so connected, she'd feel the deep pain that was pouring out of me. That it would pull her toward me from wherever she was. I'd even have taken her Walker stumbling out of the woods, called toward me by some undying instinct telling her corpse I needed to see her.

The forest stayed quiet. And suddenly, it was too quiet. I'd been on my own in the woods hundreds of times, but I'd never felt alone like this before.

I picked myself up and headed back to work.

Everything was a mess inside me. For the first time since I'd made that promise to Mia, I had a strong urge to find a drink. I tried to channel it into the logs I was chopping, promising myself a smoke later. The swing of the axe. The heavy thud against the wood drowned out how cramped and noisy my head was.

I almost didn't notice the horses getting spooked. A whiny was dangerously close by the time I looked up. Two Walkers were pretty damn close. There were even more behind them.

"A herd's comin'!" I yelled a warning as I took out the two that were getting close. "Bug out, now!"

I took out a couple more Walkers, vaguely aware of some yelling behind me. It was a big herd. They were coming thick and fast now. How did this happen? There were meant to be alarms and defenses to stop this.

I backed away, getting ready to run, but when I looked over at the pile of logs we'd been stacking, I saw everyone else wasn't running like I'd told them to; they were clustered around the logs we'd been piling up. A huge one had rolled off the top, and Aaron was trapped underneath.

Fuck.

Fuck.

No, no, no!

"Get them mules out of here," I yelled to one of them as I ran to Aaron's side. I looked at Jed, "You! Get over here right now!"

The horses ran free. Someone would have to round them up again if they survived the herd. Aaron's arm was trapped, crushed; he couldn't get up by himself. We tried to push the heavy log off him.

"Go!" Aaron said, looking around at us and the herd about to overrun us. I was surprised he hadn't blacked out from the pain yet. "Get out of here! Go!"

Fuck no.

I can't lose anyone else.

"Keep on him!" I yelled at Jed, straightening up to take care of a few more of the oncoming Walkers and buy us more time to get Aaron out of there. There wasn't much time to feel scared or worried; I just carried on, knowing full well that I wasn't in a place to lose another friend.

I ran back and helped roll the giant log off Aaron's arm. It was broken in several places. Bloodied and mangled. Aaron screamed out in pain.

"Come on. Get up. Get up," I told him, reaching to help him up. Rick and some of the others from the bridge rushed past. Walkers started dropping. Groaning, Aaron finally got to his feet. I slung his arm around me. I looked at him, "Come on. You're gonna be just fine."

"We've got this," Rick yelled to me. "Get him back to camp!"

"On it."

I raced as fast as Aaron could go. I kept expecting him to pass out. His arm was beyond fucked, but the shock must have kept him conscious. People saw us coming. Shouts ran out through the camp, and by the time we reached the medical tent, Mia was holding it open so I could rush him in. Her eyes widened as she saw Aaron.

"Where's Siddiq?" I yelled when I got in there. Aaron was losing a lot of blood, I didn't have time to wait around for him if he was tending to some splinter on the bridge.

"He's gone," Enid said, panicked. "It's just me."

Oh shit.

"It's just you then," I said, helping Aaron to the bed. Enid hadn't been training for all that long with Siddiq, but this would work. It had to.

She took one look at the injury and said, "I have to amputate."

"What?!" Aaron's terrified eyes looked at us.

"There ain't no other way?" I asked.

Enid shook her head, "The only way to stop the bleeding is to amputate and cauterize the wound."

"What?!" Aaron said again. Maybe it would have been better for him if he had passed out.

Enid passed me a tourniquet, which I tied around his arm right above where the wound started. "You got something for the pain?"

"It wouldn't kick in fast enough," Enid said. "We have to do this now."

I looked down at him, "Sorry, man."

"I need you to hold him down for me," Enid said. I nodded and took hold of one side of his shoulders. She looked to Mia and said, "Heat the iron in the fire. I'll need it to cauterize the wound once I've taken the arm off."

Mia nodded, glancing back at Aaron as she grabbed something metal and retreated from the tent. "You're gonna be okay. We're all right here for you. You'll be fine."

Enid hesitated, her blade hovering over Aaron's arm. Aaron nodded to her, "You can do it. Do it."

He passed out pretty soon after that. But the job was done. Enid cut through the twisted layers of bone, muscle, and flesh. Aaron's severed arm dropped to the ground with a thud. Enid sat back, shell-shocked.

"Mia!" I yelled. The tourniquet was slowing the bleeding, but he'd need more than that.

Mia ran back in, a red-hot iron in her hands. Before I could move or take it from her, she'd pressed it to the freshly amputated flesh on Aaron's arm. For a moment, it smelled like Terminus.

Enid blinked, pulling through her shock. "That's enough. That should have stopped it."

Mia pulled the iron away from Aaron's arm. The bleeding had stopped. She dropped it and sent it clattering to the ground next to Aaron's severed limb. I checked Aaron's pulse. It was steady, but hopefully, he wouldn't wake up anytime soon. I let go of him and stood up. Mia was pale and shaky.

"Hey, you did so good," I said quietly, putting my hands on her shoulders. I glanced at Enid. "Both of ya."

"Is he going to be okay?" Mia was looking queasy.

"Yeah," I said. "I reckon he is. And it'll be because of the two of you."

Before I could say anything else, Bryce stumbled in. "I heard…is…is he…?"

"He's gonna be fine," I said. I stood up so that Bryce could sit down beside him. I had to look away from him. The look on his face reminded me too much of how he'd looked when we'd found Naomi's coat. I turned to the two girls. "Let's step out for a minute. Get some air."

Giving Bryce a moment alone with Aaron, I led Mia and Enid out of the tent. Camp was starting to fill up again, people heading back from taking out the herd. I hoped there weren't any more casualties.

Rick was heading toward us. Carl and Perla weren't too far behind. Enid raised her hand in a wave as she saw them coming. They waved back. Enid looked over at me and Mia, "I'm gonna go say hi. You coming?"

Mia hesitated, looking at me. She looked so young right then; I couldn't believe what she'd done. How brave she'd been. But she didn't look ready to be around a group of people just yet.

"Can you give us a second?" I asked Enid. I caught the relief on Mia's face. "Won't be a minute."

"Of course," Enid said. "Take as long as you need. You did great today, Mia."

A smile finally tugged at Mia's mouth. Enid smiled back and went to join Perla and Carl by the fire. Rick ducked into the medical tent.

I waited until she was gone, Mia looked over at me. "Can we walk a little?"

I nodded, taking a few slow steps away from the medical tent. The fresh air seemed to be doing her some good. We walked a little bit away from camp. The noise of the returning people was too much, and she needed a little time to get her thoughts together after everything that had just happened. "You okay?"

She nodded. The breath she took was still a little shaky, but the color was returning to her cheeks. "Yeah. It was… horrible, but… it felt good to help him."

"You and Enid probably saved his life," I said. "You did such a good job in there… and I ain't just sayin' that, y'know… as your Dad."

Shit.

No.

That was the wrong thing to say.

I cringed the moment I said it. I'd thought maybe saying it all casually like she had would help, but it didn't. Mia's face paled immediately, "Shit, you heard that?"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. Now that I'd started this conversation, I didn't know how to handle it. It felt way too big for either of us while we were still so breakable. "I wasn't eavesdropping or anything; I just…overheard."

"I'm sorry," Mia was falling apart faster than I was. She had this guilty look on her face that really didn't need to be there. There was absolutely nothing she could ever say or do that would drive me away. "I mean, it's not even like I know what having a Dad is like. I never knew mine, so it doesn't have to mean anything. You don't need to-"

"Mia, Mia," I had to say it a couple of times before she stopped wigging out. She looked at me, terrified. "You're my kid. That's what you are to me. Don't matter what you call me. Ain't nothing gonna change that. Okay?"

I waited. Her bottom lip was trembling, and her eyes were so bright. She nodded, "Okay."

"Even if you said it and didn't mean it, that's okay with me. It don't change nothing," I said, trying to calm her down. I put my hands on her shoulders to try and get her to stop shaking like a leaf. "I never brought it up before because I wanted a decision like that to be all yours. Didn't want you feeling any kind pressure to change the way you thought about me, or what you call me just because I was marrying Nao- just because I was marryin' your Mom."

"Oh God, you heard that too?" Just as she'd looked like she was about to recover, Mia shrank again like she wanted to disappear entirely.

"Yeah, and I agree with ya," I said firmly. "Look, for what it's worth, I don't know much about having a Dad either. I knew mine, but I wish I didn't. That gave me my own ideas on what a Dad should be. What I'd try to be if I ever got the chance. And bein' your Dad, Mia… well, that'd be an honor."

Slowly, Mia leaned into me, like all of her strength was ebbing out of her and she needed someone to hold her up. I wrapped my arms around her. The indistinct chatter from the people gathered around the campfire made Mia's gentle sobs inaudible. I could feel them as I hugged her. She sniffed, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

We stood like that for a moment, hugging each other in the silence. It was the kind of healing that hurts a little while it's happening, but I was glad we'd had this talk. I was glad I'd overheard what I had. Never wanted her to feel insecure about the place she had in my heart. Eventually, Mia mumbled, "Do you think she'd be mad? That I called her 'Mom'?"

"The more into her teenage years Mia gets, the more I dread the day we get into a fight so big she pulls the 'you're not my Mom' card."

If only you'd known, baby.

If only you could hear her.

"Nah," I said, pulling back to see her face. "I think you made one hell of a happy angel up there."

Mia nodded, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeves. We could see Enid sitting by the fire with Perla and Carl through the trees. She looked more relaxed too. Relieved. I hoped she was proud of what she'd done today, too.

"You wanna go see 'em?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said. "If that's okay?"

"Of course," I said. We walked back closer to the campfire. I stopped a little distance away, not wanting to cramp her style. "Come find me if you need me, alright?"

"See you for dinner?" she asked.

"Yeah. See you then." I agreed. It was nearing dark, and people were setting up around the campfire to get something cooking.

I stopped next to some of the workers Maggie had sent from Hilltop and watched Mia run over to join her friends on their way to check on Aaron. I wasn't planning on talking much, not after everything that had gone down. I'd hoped for a moment to process it all, but one of the Hilltop workers leaned over and asked, "Dixon? What's that? Is it a brand or something?"

"No," I glanced at him. His eyes were on Mia's retreating back and the name across the back of her sweater. "It's her last name."

"That's your kid?"

I felt myself bristle at the interest he was taking. "Yeah. Why?"

He glanced at the woman next to him, who was listening intently. I stood up straighter, and he reluctantly continued. "Hate to ask this, but there's no chance she's been messing with the radios around Hilltop, is there? Y'know, as a prank or something."

"Hell no."

"Sorry. Just…those calls we've been getting on the Hilltop radio at crazy hours…those are from someone who says their last name is Dixon, too. So, I thought maybe it was…"

"Well, it ain't Mia," I said firmly. But my heart had started racing. That shred of impossible hope flaring up. Hadn't felt it in months. Thought it was dead.

"Yeah, your kid sounds too young to be fair."

"Said her name was something different, too. Natalie or Nadia or something like that."

No.

No fucking way.

I could barely say it, could hardly get it out. They'd started looking worried, so I knew I was staring at them like some kind of madman. Somehow, I managed to ask, "Naomi?"

"Maybe." They exchanged a look. A shrug. It was almost nothing.

But it was enough.

Enough for that small ember of hope inside me to flare into some kind of inferno. It hurt. God, it hurt after so long feeling so cold. But it was also the most alive I'd felt in weeks.

It can't be her.

It can't be.

Can it?

But even as I thought it, my feet were moving. Nothing felt real. Not the camp, not the bridge, not the forest, not even my own body. Felt like I was floating. Seeing it all from above as I ran into the medical tent.

I think I interrupted a heartfelt apology Rick was giving Aaron for getting hurt in this whole mess. Any other time, I'd have felt bad for bursting in like that, but there wasn't space in my head for any other thoughts.

"She's alive," I blurted out when they all stared at me. I couldn't calm down. Couldn't stop pacing. "Naomi. She's alive. She's the one who's been calling Hilltop at night… the radio…" My heart lurched. "Oh, God, the radio! We need to get it back on. Now."

I should have known.

I never should have let them... told them to...

"Woah, woah, woah," Rick stood up. "Daryl, how do you know?"

"Someone from Hilltop just said it."

"They said it was Naomi? Why didn't they tell us sooner?"

"Well, no," I said. Didn't like where this was headed. Hoped we wouldn't have to get into the details of it. Hoped he'd just believe me and get it back on as soon as possible. "But, they said it was a woman…with my last name…and…"

I knew how it sounded coming out of my mouth. Flimsier and flimsier with every word. They would have believed it even less if they'd known about the fight we had right before she went missing. How unlikely it was she'd be using my name.

But fuck…

What if it's her?

That hope wouldn't die back down again. How could I explain it to them? How could I explain that even if she was dead, like they so clearly thought she was, if anyone could argue the Almighty into giving her one last call home, it was Naomi?

"Daryl, sit down," Rick said, trying to get me to stop pacing back and forth. "Let's talk this through."

Nope.

I ignored him, "I'm goin' to Hilltop and I'm turning that radio back on. Tonight."

I started to leave. Rick grabbed my arm. "Daryl, you won't make it there by nightfall."

"I don't care," I pulled my arm free. "The calls ain't comin' until late, I can be there by then."

"No," he shook his head like he could stop me. Like he had a hope in hell of holding me back. "You can't travel at night, it's not safe."

"Screw you, man. I'm gettin' Mia, and I'm goin'."

"Wait!" Bryce said.

I rounded on him. "Really? I'm gonna have to fight you on this one, too?"

"No. Not at all, but…" he hesitated. Probably because I was staring him down like I used to do to Merle. "I don't think we should tell Mia yet. If she thinks it's Naomi and it's not…"

Shit.

He's right.

Our little girl had only just started piecing herself back together again. If it wasn't Naomi's voice on the other end of that radio, she'd be crushed.

"Right," I said, backing down a little. "You're right."

I took a few deep breaths. Rick took a tentative step toward me. "Here's what we're gonna do..."

"Fuck you, I'm fucking going ."

Rick raised a hand to try to get me to hear him out. "I'm gonna call Maggie and get her to turn the radio back on tonight. We'll have someone monitor it out there, and tomorrow, we'll head to Hilltop and see for ourselves."

"We?"

"Yeah."

"You're comin'?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes.

"I want to hear it, too."

I stared at him for a second. There had to be more to it than that. But I didn't push it. I couldn't stand losing another second to arguing. I'd already lost so much time. If it really was her, she'd been out there, calling for me… for so fucking long. Why hadn't she been able to make her way home? Was she stuck? Trapped? Injured?

Fuck.

Fuck.

I need to go.