The Masks We Wear

The gates of the Hilltop creaked open behind us, and I felt the tension in the air settle across my shoulders like a weight. We’d only be there fifteen minutes, and now we were heading out again to chase a trail that might already be cold.

Eugene was missing, and that never meant anything good.

The woods ahead looked endless in the late afternoon gloom. Mist clung to the undergrowth. The silence had a pulse of its own.

Daryl led the way, shoulders hunched and silent, his crossbow already in hand. I walked beside him, adjusting the strap of my pack and keeping my eyes on the path ahead. Aaron and Jesus flanked us, both quiet, both focused. The air was thick with unease.

“You sure about this?” I asked Daryl under my breath.

He didn’t look at me. “Can’t leave Eugene out here to die.”

“No we can’t,” I said, giving him a look. “It’s just that I was hoping we'd be naked by now.”

He finally glanced at me then, smirking just a little. “Gonna make up for that later.”

We pushed deeper into the woods, following what little was left behind of a trail we hoped was Eugene - broken branches, footprints in the soft earth. He was clever but not subtle. It looked like panic had driven his steps, and it made the tracking easier. For now.

We stopped for a moment by a field with a herd in. They were acting... weird – milling around in circles. It seemed very odd.

The feeling of dread built in my gut. Something felt off. Wrong. Like the trees were watching us. Listening. I brushed it off. We needed to keep going.

We moved for hours, until darkness fell - eyes peeled, weapons ready. And as the shadows lengthened… we finally heard it - a faint, desperate sound beneath the wind. A voice. A whimper.

Daryl held up a fist, signaling for us to stop.

There. A half-rotted barn crouched at the edge of a clearing, its roof sagging, vines crawling up its sides like skeletal fingers. Daryl motioned toward the cellar doors at the back.

We moved in as a unit - quiet, fast, efficient.

Jesus opened the cellar, and there he was - Eugene, pale, wide-eyed, filthy, and trembling. His hands clutched a rusted hammer like it could save him.

“Eugene,” I breathed, crouching beside him.

“Quiet!” he hissed, frantic. “They’re out there.”

“Who?” Aaron asked, confused. “Walkers?”

He shook his head. “No. Not… not normal walkers.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes. “Tha hell's that mean?”

“They were whispering,” Eugene said, barely audible. “They were… talking to each other.”

We all stared at him, stunned into silence.

And then we heard it - the faint shuffle of feet, low groans, too many of them.

Daryl tensed. “Time to move.”

“They’re looking for me,” Eugene said. “They followed me here.”

Walkers don’t follow like that. Walkers don’t talk. Walkers don’t look for someone.

But they were coming. We could all feel it.

We slipped out through a fallen wall and headed for the woods. Eugene’s voice was trembling as he tried to keep up.

“I-I know it sounds irrational, but I swear to you - they were whispering. The walkers. They were communicating.”

I exchanged a look with Daryl, who scoffed. “Bullshit,” he muttered, brushing past Eugene.

“They’re gettin’ closer,” Aaron cut in, his voice sharp, eyes scanning the tree line. “A lot closer.”

We turned as the faint moans turned into a steady rhythm. The kind of rhythm that usually meant a herd was forming - only it wasn’t random. It was moving… in sync.

Jesus cursed. “We need to split up-”

“I’ll lead ‘em off.” Daryl cut in, looking at me. “You guys get to the horses.”

“I’m staying with you.” I insisted.

Daryl brows furrowed. “Nah, Ath. Go with them. It’s safer.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not leaving you. No way.”

His jaw clenched, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. But he knew me. Knew arguing was pointless. He gave a sharp nod and reached into his pack.

“Fireworks,” he said. “Let’s see if noise still works.”

“You keep fireworks in your pack now?” I half-laughed.

“Never know what ya might need.” He shrugged.

We moved quickly - Daryl lighting the fuse and tossing the first firework into the trees. The explosion lit up the woods in red and gold, echoing like thunder.

At first, the walkers shifted - heads turning, steps changing.

But then… something else happened.

A few kept walking. Ignored the noise completely. And the rest started following them.

“What the fuck?” I breathed.

Daryl looked shaken for half a second before his eyes narrowed. “They’re not followin’ the sound... they’re followin’ somethin’ else...”

We cut through the woods back toward the horses where we hoped the others still were, but when we came across a cemetery – we stopped dead. It was a mess of broken statues and cracked tombstones, moonlight barely touching the earth. And in the middle of it, Jesus was on the ground, clutching his stomach, blood soaking his shirt.

Aaron was trying to hold them off, but walkers were closing in around them - too many, too fast.

Eugene tried to fight, panic making his swings sloppy. I pulled my knife and ran forward, slashing into the first walker. Daryl was right behind me.

“Yumiko?” I gasped as I saw her cut down a walker near Eugene.

“Nice of you to show up,” she quipped, and Magna drove a blade into another with a grunt.

We fought hard - blades flashing, bodies falling, grunts and growls blending together. I lost track of how many I killed. All I knew was we had to protect Jesus as he lay on the ground, no matter what.

When they were all down, Aaron and Eugene crouched over Jesus while Daryl knelt by a dead walker and frowned. “The fuck?”

I turned as he sliced the back of a walker’s head - only it wasn’t a walker.

It was someone wearing a mask.

My blood ran cold. “That’s a person…”

“Yeah,” he said grimly, holding it up. “Or was.”

This felt like a new level of insane.

“Who the hell would do this?” I asked, baffled. “Who’d even think about doing this?”

“I suspect some vessel filled with a chunky salsa of abnormal impulses and metastasized rage.” Eugene piped up, spotting the mask in Daryl’s hand.

“It’s full-on batshit.” I turned to Daryl. “You think there’s more?”

“Yeah.” He said. And I knew he was right.

As if on cue, whispers began drifting through the air all around us.

We circled up, weapons raised. Heart pounding.

They weren’t walkers.

They were people dressed like the dead.

“We gotta move.” Daryl announced.

We retreated fast, carrying a badly injured Jesus between us. Aaron and Yumiko helped him walk, while Daryl and I covered the rear. We barely managed to get the cemetery gate closed before more of them slammed into it.

“They’re not walkers,” I said again, just to hear it out loud. “They’re something else.”

Daryl just nodded, jaw tight.

~

We finally outpaced them, getting far enough away that we could no longer hear them. It wasn’t worth trying to fight them. We had to get Jesus back before he bled out.

As we approached the bridge - another small group of walkers appeared weaving in and out of the trees. I could’ve sworn I heard whispers again.

“We got some tails.” Daryl declared.

Eugene didn’t skip a beat. “The living kind or original recipe?”Daryl raised his crossbow. “Let’s find out.”

He fired. The bolt hit one in the leg. The walker screamed.

Screamed.

It fell, clutching its leg as more real walkers descended. “They’re people!” I hissed, at the others running to help Daryl.

More of them came, wearing masks, drawing knives.

Aaron, Magna and Yumiko joined us. Together, we fought back, driving them down hard and fast. There was just one left.

It tried to run but tripped. It dropped to it’s knees, shaking, still clutching a knife.

“Drop it!” I ordered.

“Please!” a girl’s voice cried, tearing her mask off. “Please! Don’t kill me! Please!”

She was young, maybe sixteen or so. She looked terrified.

Daryl yanked her to her feet, eyes blazing. I stalked forward, heart hammering in my chest. “How many?”

“Please - you killed them all!” she sobbed. “It’s just me now!”

Liar.

“I don’t believe you!” I spat back.

But Daryl looked back at Jesus, pale and barely breathing. “There ain’t no time. We’ll take her with us.”

~

Hilltop was chaos when we arrived. Maggie rushed over as Yumiko and Aaron carried Jesus toward the infirmary.

“Enid! Siddiq!” she yelled. “Now!”

Glenn appeared next, sweat on his brow. “Carol brought Henry while you were gone - but she couldn’t stay.”

Daryl’s face fell. I knew how much he’d been looking forward to seeing her.

“He already got caught sneaking out with some Hilltop teens,” Glenn added. “They got drunk. He’s in the cells.”

If it hadn’t been for the fact it was such a risky move to sneak out in walker-world, I would’ve been quite impressed.

It was then that Glenn caught sight of the girl Magna was gripping tightly. “Umm, who’s that?”

“Another for the cells.” I informed him. “I’ll fill you in soon.”

~

I shoved the girl into a cell on the other side of the steps to Henry’s. “No more bullshit,” I snapped, ripping off her blindfold.

“What’s going on?” Henry’s voice came. We ignored him for now.

“How many more of ya are there?” Daryl growled.

“I already told you - they’re all dead.” The girl cried. “My family’s dead. Please just stop.”

“Not until you start answering our questions.” I shot back.

“Start with your name.” Daryl tried.

“I told you, I don’t have one.” She insisted. “None of us do... None of us did. That’s not how it worked.”

“How did it work?” I asked quickly. Why do you wear their skins?”

“They were... They were good people. We were good. It’s what we did to live. That’s... That’s all we wanted to do. Live.”

“You’re saying you had to do this?" I asked.

“You wouldn’t understand.” She proclaimed.

“Then make us understand.”

“What the hell were you doing?” Daryl probed further.

The girl sobbed harder. “We... We were just trying to see if they were good people, too. But then you attacked us, and now they’re dead. They’re all dead... And I don’t have anything.”

“Do your people know about this place?” I pushed.

“I don’t know.” She choked. “I don’t know anything. They didn’t tell me anything. Please stop asking me.”

Daryl and I looked at each other as her cries grew louder. “Just leave me alone, please. Please just leave me alone.”

Daryl sighed, motioning for me to follow him.

I peeked into Henry’s cell before I started it up the stairs. “Hey, dipshit,” I whispered, so the girl wouldn’t hear. “How many times you thrown up?”

I was taken aback by how much he’d grown. It had been years since I’d seen him - he wasn’t a little boy anymore.

He smiled a little when he saw me. “So many times.”

“You were stupid sneaking out.”

“I know.”

“Enjoy your hangover.” I whispered as Daryl beckoned me impatiently from the top of the steps.

As I made it out of the cellar, I turned to Daryl. “I don’t trust a word coming out of her mouth.”

“We’ll get it out of her.” He assured me. “We try again soon.”

Maggie approached, looking uneasy. “The hell’s going on?”

We filled her in on everything. Finding Eugene, the walkers that weren’t walkers, Magna and Yumiko coming to help, the girl...”

Maggie looked gobsmacked, then quickly regained her composure. “Magna’s group can stay. For now. While we figure stuff out.” She hesitated. “Alden went out to try find you guys after you didn’t come back - Luke from their group volunteered to go with him - they haven’t returned yet...”

“Shit.” I breathed. “They’ve got no idea what they’re dealing with.”

“We’ll get a team out after them.” Maggie announced, already spinning on her heel.

I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples.

“C’mere.” Daryl said softly as he pulled me into a hug. “Ya look exhausted. Ya should get some sleep.”

“I’m fine,” I protested. “You’ve been awake as long as I have. I just...”

“Miss the kids?” Daryl added as I trailed off.

I nodded.

“Me too.” He admitted, kissing the top of my head. “Missin’ ‘em loads already. Ya think they’re sleepin’ okay?”

I pulled back, smiling. “With the amount of wrestling they’ll be doing with Merle? Definitely.”

Daryl chuckled, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Ain’t how I thought our first trip away’d be goin’.”

“Nope.” I agreed. “There was meant to be more nakedness.”

“I know,” He said, kissing me again. “S’give the girl some time... go see to that instead.”

“Yeah?” I bit my lip.

“Yep,” Daryl smirked, pulling me by the hand.

~

Daryl didn’t let go of my hand once as we made our way to the room we always ended up in each time we’d stayed at the Hilltop – the same one we’d stayed in after he escaped from the Sanctuary, where we’d stayed for the first few days after Briar was born.

The second the door shut, Daryl was on me.

His body pressed me hard against the wood, his mouth claiming mine like he hadn’t kissed me in years. Maybe it felt that way - after what we’d just been through, after nearly losing people again, after the freaky new threat and the madness and the fear. His hands were everywhere - grasping the fabric at my waist, sliding up beneath my shirt.

I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling him even closer, drunk on the heat of him, on the wildness in his touch... But then, my fingers snagged on something thick and sticky, and I laughed breathlessly against his lips.

He pulled back, chest heaving, eyes dark. “What?”

I giggled again, brushing his hair aside. “You’ve got walker guts in your hair, Dixon.”

He looked like he might growl, but instead, he smirked - and suddenly, I was airborne. He lifted me into his arms, carrying me like I weighed nothing, straight into the bathroom.

The second he set me down, he was reaching for the knobs, water bursting from the shower head and steam billowing into the room like smoke from a fire. He peeled off my shirt with haste, eyes roaming my body like he was starving. I yanked his vest down his arms, then his shirt, my hands eager, clumsy.

By the time we stumbled into the tub, the water was scorching, but I barely noticed. We scrubbed at each other in a frenzy, hands roaming over sweat and dirt, soap and blood. My fingers worked through the mess in his hair while he ran his palms down my back, over my hips, pressing into every inch of me like he was learning my shape all over again.

I hadn’t even finished rinsing my hair when he backed me into the wall of the shower, hard.

“Daryl-” I started, breathless.

But his mouth silenced mine, urgent, heated, all tongue and teeth and desire. His hands gripped my thighs, hoisting me up so I wrapped around him, slick skin sliding against slick skin, the heat of the water cascading down our bodies.

His hips rolled forward, slow at first, drawing a moan from deep in my throat. I clawed at his back, tilting my head as he kissed down my neck, over my collarbone, teeth grazing the skin just enough to make me gasp.

He filled me in one swift, fluid motion, and I cried out from the overwhelming intensity of it. Of him inside me.

“God, baby-” I whispered, clinging to him, feeling the tremble in his arms as he held me up.

He moved like a man possessed, every thrust deliberate, deep, hitting that perfect place inside me over and over. Water streamed between us, washing away what was left of the grime, but nothing could touch the heat rising between our bodies, the fever in our skin. I tightened around him, nails digging into his shoulders as he drove into me harder, deeper, until the tension coiled tight in my belly, electric, unstoppable.

His forehead pressed against mine, his breath ragged. “I love ya,” he rasped.

“I love you,” I gasped, curling around him. “More than ever.”

He kissed me then, softer this time - desperate in a different way. And when I shattered around him, he didn’t take his lips off mine, swallowing my loud moans.

He followed me seconds later, burying his face in my neck as he groaned my name like a prayer. His body jerking as he savoured every last thrust.

The water had gone cold by the time we stopped moving, our bodies tangled, pressed together beneath the stream. Neither of us had even noticed.

We crawled into bed together afterwards, holding each other tight, knowing that we’d only get a couple of hours of rest before we’d need to be up and back to it. This trip certainly wasn’t going to be the restful one we’d planned  months ago, but it didn’t matter. We were here, together, me and him – child-free for the first time in years – and even if we were going to be spending it questioning a dead skin-wearing teenager, I was going to make the most of it.

~

We woke to a knock at the door after what felt like a minute of sleep, but judging by the darkness creeping across the sky it must have been a few hours.

“Hello?” I groaned.

“Cover up, most likely naked people - I’m coming in.”

“The door’s locked-” I started, before Tara swung it open.

Okay, so apparently we’d been too horny to lock it.

I dragged the blanket up over myself, Daryl sinking down under it to hide his burning cheeks.

Tara cackled. “I tried to warn you.”

“The hell ya want?” Daryl’s growl came from under the duvet.

“Yeah, pervert.” I teased.

“Jesus is awake.” She smiled. “Enid said he’s gonna be fine. I thought it’d be lucky Siddiq was here but she didn’t even need him.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. Has the girl said anything else?”

Tara shook her head. “Maggie went down but she was asleep. Decided to let her rest a while.”

"Any news of Alden and Luke?"

"Not yet."

“Okay.” I lifted the blanket just enough to see the top of Daryl's head. “We’ll get back on her... when we have clothes on.”

Tara snorted and closed the door.

“Goddammit.” Daryl breathed as he re-emerged. “Was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I was gonna do to ya to think about lockin’ it.”

“Nevermind.” I chuckled. “It was worth it.”

“Damn right.” He agreed, nuzzling into me again. “Reckon she’ll talk?”

I thought for a moment, then we planned it quick.

Daryl would be bad cop, pretending like he was going to drag her up to execute her - harsh, but necessary - Henry, still locked in his cell, would protest (we hadn’t seen the kid for years, but Carol’s letters made it hella clear that he was strong-minded, wouldn’t stand for anything that seemed like injustice), Daryl would leave, and hopefully the girl would trust Henry and start spilling while Daryl and I listened above ground through the small window.

“You ready?” I asked Daryl as I moved to climb out of the bed.

His hand locked around my waist, stopping me. “Nope.”

I giggled as he pulled me back into him, sliding his hands down my body.

“The door’s still unlocked.” I gasped as his hand found the most sensitive part of me.

“Don’t care.” He breathed against me.

The girl would have to wait...

~

As we approached the cellar, I looked at Daryl.

“Ready to be bad cop?” I asked him.

“Mhmh.” He grunted.

“Would you rather me do it?”

“Nah,” he replied. “I got it.”

I settled beside the window, ready to listen in.

I heard Daryl’s roar as he stomped down the steps. “Who are you!?”

I heard keys rattling as he threw open the door to her cell.

“Answer the question.” He growled. “Ya wanna die? Is that it?”

I know it’s not the right moment to be thinking it, but God, my husband is hot as hell when he’s angry.

“Daryl, what’s your problem?!” I heard Henry yell – right on cue.

“Quiet!” Daryl chastised him angrily, before turning his attention back to the girl. “People up there are ready to string ya up right now. All I got to do is drag yur ass up them steps.” He fake-threatened. “How many in your group?”

“I already told you...” The girl protested.

“Get up! How many!?”

I could hear the girl breathing heavily. I almost felt bad for her. She was only young – but she was a threat, and we needed to get her talking.

“We wore skins to blend in! I heard her cry, still dodging Daryl’s question. “We didn’t have names. I mean... I mean, we did, but we didn’t use them.”

“How long ya been out around here?” Daryl pressed, his voice furious.

“I don’t know. We moved around with the... with the dead. I mean, the skins made them leave us alone. They protected us, so we protected them.”

“You got a camp? Walls?”

“Walls?” The girl scoffed. “Walls don’t keep you safe. Places like this don’t make it. They never make it. That’s how it is. My mom and me, we saw it happen over and over. I... I barely remember the world before all this. But my mom, she told me how it was changing, how we had to change with it, how we needed the dead and each other to keep safe. We’re never alone.”

“Why’d yur people try kill our people? Tell me!”

“We’re always gonna kill you, okay!? It’s just what people do now. Everybody still alive’s a threat. It’s us or them.”

“How many people in your group?” Daryl roared again.

“I already...”

“The truth!” he yelled.

“It is the truth!”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“My mom!” She cried. “It’s just my mom... She’s a good person. Please don’t go looking for her. Please. She’s just one woman, out there alone.”

“You said your people were never alone.” Daryl sneered.

“She... She was at the cemetery. She got separated, but just her.”

“Liar!” Daryl yelled, pulling her from the cell.”

Come on Henry, time to run your mouth... please, kid.

“Please, I’m telling...” the girl gasps. “No! No, I told you the truth!”

“I told ya what was gonna happen!”

“Daryl!” Henry yelled.

It was working.

“Shut up!” Daryl roared at him.

“That was everything! Please! Please!” she begged. “Let go of me!”

“Daryl, stop!” Henry yelled again.

“Please, Daryl, please don't kill me, please.” The girl was crying harder.

I knew Daryl would be finding it tough to hear. I heard him slam her cell door shut again and lock it.

Time for phase two.

“I thought I told ya to stay quiet.” I heard Daryl growl at Henry.

“She's just a girl.” Henry retorted.

Daryl reappeared through the cellar’s hatch, red in the face. He looked ashamed.

“Hey.” I told him as he reached me and I pulled him into a hug. “You did good.”

“Mmhm,” he grunted as we settled back down be the window, listening.

I looked at him over at him, reaching for his hand, whispering. “Are you okay?”

He dodged my question. “Ya notice she’s always pullin’ her ear like it hurts?” he whispered back.

But we were interrupted by the girl’s voice.

“Thank you.” She told Henry.

Daryl and I pressed our ears closer to the window.

“I’m Henry.” He told her.

“I'm Lydia.”

Daryl and I smiled at each other.

Our plan was working.

A/N: I'm super sleepy but didn't want to leave you hanging - so please excuse any e