Chapter 18 - Daryl

The drive back home had been uneventful, just the hum of the truck's engine and the tension that hung thick between us. That is, until we came across a group of men on motorcycles. My grip on the wheel tightened as I saw them approach. They were riding in a loose formation, their eyes locked on us with dangerous intent.

Ella's hand shot to my thigh, her fingers trembling slightly as she squeezed. Without thinking, I let my hand drop from the wheel to weave my fingers through hers, offering her some kind of reassurance, even if it was just in that small gesture.

I slowed the truck to a stop, my heart pounding, as the leader of the group shouted at us.

"Why don't you get out of the truck?" The man's voice was grating, full of arrogance.

Abraham, Sasha, and Ella all looked to me for direction, their faces taut with worry. I nodded slowly, signaling that we had no choice but to comply. If we were going to get out of this alive, we'd need to talk our way through it.

I climbed out of the truck, keeping my eyes on the men as I stepped into the open air. Ella followed closely behind me, her hand still clutching my belt. I could feel her breath against my back, her presence grounding me even as danger loomed.

As we faced the group, the leader smiled a cold, mocking smile.

"That's great. This is going well," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, step two." He raised two fingers. "Hand over your weapons."

I gave him a hard, measured look. My voice was low, gravelly as I responded, "Why should we?"

The man chuckled darkly. "Well, they're not yours," he said, almost with a hint of amusement.

"Who's are they?" Sasha's voice cracked through the tension, her teeth gritted hard.

I glanced briefly at her, then at Abraham. I could see the way he tried to step in front of Sasha, the same way I was instinctively moving to protect Ella. It was automatic.

"Your property now belongs to Negan," the man said, his voice carrying an edge of finality. He let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke again. "Now, if you can get your hands on a tanker, you're people that our person wants to know." He took a step closer, eyes flicking from me to Ella. My hand instinctively slid to her hip, pushing her further behind me. I could feel her shift against my back, no doubt trying to hide the knife she always kept tucked there.

I didn't move, standing my ground.

"So, let's get your shit, shall we?" The man sneered, stepping toward me. His hand extended, signaling for me to give up my weapons.

Without a word, I slid my hand to the back of my pants, pulling out the small pistol Sasha had given me. I handed it over, keeping my eyes locked on his. He took it without hesitation and sidestepped, trying to get a look at Ella.

"She ain't got nothin'," I growled, stepping with him to keep my body between her and him.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You sure about that?"

Ella's voice was soft but steady, almost too calm for the situation. "I don't know how to shoot," she said, feigning hesitation. But I could see right through it. She wasn't the hesitant type, and neither was I.

"Okay then," the man said, a grin flickering across his face as he turned back toward me, clearly eager to get a better look at Ella. But when he saw the growl that formed in my chest, he hesitated, stepping back a little. He shifted his focus, moving on to Sasha and Abraham. I watched as they handed over their weapons, the air thick with distrust.

Once the man had taken our handguns, he walked back toward his bike. Sasha, always the one to speak up when things got tense, broke the silence.

"Who are you people?" she asked, her voice tight with a mix of frustration and curiosity.

The man rolled his eyes, a weary sigh escaping him. "I get the curiosity. It's normal," he said, shrugging. "But we have questions ourselves. And we'll be the ones asking them while we drive you back to wherever it is you call home." He grinned, almost mocking. "Take a good look, see where you hang your hats and all. First, your shit."

I couldn't help but scoff. "You just took it," I muttered, nodding toward the weapons now in his hands.

"Come on," the guy said, rolling his eyes like he couldn't be bothered with our resistance. "Can we not, okay? There's always more. Always is." He sighed dramatically, like this was some tiresome chore.

He turned to one of the other men, nodding at me. "T, take my man to the back of the truck. Start from the back bumper, work your way to the front."

T stepped forward, but as he neared us, I felt a surge of protectiveness flare inside me. Ella, sensing the same, moved with me, her body pressing against mine as we stood our ground.

When T reached out to grab me, I evaded his hand easily, pulling Ella even closer, making sure she was shielded behind me.

"Leave the girl," the man ordered, his voice sharp.

Ella's hand pressed into the small of my back as she released her hold on my belt, standing firm where she was. Her quiet defiance was palpable, and I felt a surge of pride mixed with concern.

T hesitated but nodded, motioning for me to follow him. I took one more glance at Ella, giving her a look of reassurance, and we began to move.

T approached me, trying to peek around me to look at Ella. She moved with me as T reached out to shove me towards the back of the shoulder. I evaded his hand and grabbed Ella, pulling her close.

"Leave the girl," the asshole commanded. Ella pressed one of her small hands to the small of my back as she released her hold on my belt, planting herself firm in her spot.

My stomach twisted as I felt T push me toward the back of the truck. I could hear the asshole continuing to talk, his voice dripping with arrogance, while Sasha and Abraham exchanged words in the distance. Tension hung in the air, thick and palpable, as I neared the truck. I glanced back at Ella—she nodded at me slowly, her gaze unwavering, and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she started to edge toward the woods. Her eyes never left me, her focus steady, knowing I needed her.

When I reached the back of the truck, I spun on my heels, grabbing T by the neck, fingers digging into his flesh as I squeezed. He reacted quickly, drawing his knife and slashing for my shoulder. The cold bite of the blade tore through my leather vest and shirt, sending a sharp sting down my arm. The pain barely registered as I tightened my grip, pulling him closer, locking him in my hold. I watched as his face began to turn blue, his breathing growing erratic, and when his body went limp, I yanked the knife from his hand.

Without hesitation, I plunged it deep into his skull, watching as the life drained from his eyes. A breath of relief escaped me, but there was no time to dwell on it. I moved quickly, assembling the grenade launcher that Abraham had found, the one he'd picked up during his ridiculous military gear phase. My heart raced with adrenaline as I snuck around the truck, positioning myself for the perfect shot.

The asshole had two guns aimed at Sasha, and Ella—my ever-watchful partner—caught my eye. She dove to the side of the road just as I squeezed the trigger, the explosion ripping through the air, a brilliant burst of fire engulfing the bikes and sending them up in flames. The deafening blast left an eerie silence in its wake, the shrieks of the dying swallowed by the chaos.

The flames roared high as I rushed to the front of the truck. Ella had been knocked to the ground, along with Abraham and Sasha. My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to stay calm as I reached for Ella's hand. I pulled her into me as she regained her footing, kissing her forehead gently as her arms wrapped around my waist.

"You alright, sunshine?" I asked, my voice soft, though there was still an edge to it from the rush of the fight.

"Yeah," Ella sighed, her voice filled with relief. "I'm alright."

We both turned toward the truck, watching as Sasha and Abraham began to pick themselves up. Sasha gave me a nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she looked toward the flames still licking the sky. I jerked my chin toward the back of the truck, my gaze falling on T's lifeless body.

"Son of a bitch was tougher than he looked," I muttered, a sigh slipping from my lips. But as I turned, I saw the knife wound on my shoulder. Ella's eyes widened with concern.

"Did he cut you?" she gasped, her hands instinctively tightening around me as if she could somehow make the pain go away.

"Yeah," I grunted, the soreness from the wound setting in. "But I'm alright."

Ella stepped back from me, spinning me around to get a closer look at the cut. She hissed, running her fingers carefully over the wound, and I couldn't help but flinch. "What a bunch of assholes," I muttered under my breath, more irritated by the situation than the pain.

"Let's get you fixed up at home," Ella said, her voice steady though her concern for me was evident. "It's not bleeding too bad."

I smirked, feeling a mischievous grin tug at my lips as I pulled her back toward me, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You gonna play nurse for me?"

Her face flushed, and she shoved me away with surprising force, nearly sending me stumbling. "You're a pervert," she snapped, but I could see the heat in her eyes, the struggle to keep the smile off her face.

I grabbed her waist, pulling her back into me, my grin widening. "Nah, ain't a pervert. I just love my wife." I smirked down at her, holding her close.

Ella rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she gave me one last playful shove. With a sigh, she let me pull her back in, and we both climbed into the truck with Sasha and Abraham. We started the engine, the weight of the moment heavy on us as we began the journey back home.

But as I glanced at Ella, her eyes soft and filled with something between relief and exhaustion, I knew one thing for sure—we weren't done yet. There would be more to face, more obstacles in our path, but with her by my side, I'd face whatever came next.

It was dark by the time we pulled up to Alexandria, but the usual peace of home was long gone. The calm we had once known was replaced with the oppressive sound of growling and moaning—walkers clawing at the walls, their desperation palpable.

Ella's eyes went wide as I slammed the truck into park. Her hand instinctively shot to my thigh, tightening in a vice-like grip. The truck's engine sputtered, but the eerie silence that had hung over us was gone now, replaced by the distant sounds of chaos. Screams rang out from behind the walls, punctuated by the sharp crack of gunfire. Abraham and Sasha hopped out of the cab, immediately scaling the wall, guns in hand.

"Daryl, the kids!" Ella's voice cracked with panic beside me, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stared at the gates, her face pale.

"I know," I muttered, my jaw clenched tight. My hands tightened around the steering wheel, nails digging into the leather as I tried to steady myself. The gate creaked open in front of us, and I pushed the truck forward, parking it right next to the guard tower. Sasha and Abraham were already helping Maggie and Enid off the guard tower, moving with urgency. I barely noticed as Glenn threw himself into the cab beside Ella and me, his bloodied face a clear indication of how close we were to disaster.

"What the hell happened?" I asked, my voice tight with frustration.

"I don't know. I just got back," Glenn replied, his chest heaving with exertion. His clothes were drenched in walker blood, the smell of death clinging to him. "Listen... we can lead them away, but they're scattered."

"No," I said, cutting him off. "We get 'em all together. We won't have to lead 'em away." I banged my fist on the roof of the truck, signaling to Sasha, Abraham, Maggie, and Enid that it was time to go.

Ella's voice trembled beside me, urgent and raw. "Daryl, we have to get to the kids. Who even has them? Maggie was supposed to have them, but she's out here! Who has our kids?"

I turned in my seat to face her, my stomach dropping as I saw the panic in her eyes, the fear taking over her features. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, and I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers as she clutched the edge of the seat.

"Ella, calm down," I said, my voice low but firm, my hands going to her shoulders, trying to ground her. "Someone has the kids. We have to get through this first, then we'll find 'em."

Her eyes darted around, not really seeing me, as she whispered, "I—I can't. I have to find them." Her voice cracked, and I could hear the desperation beneath it.

"Ella," I growled, my voice taking on a rough edge. I grabbed her chin gently in my hand, forcing her to meet my gaze. She tried to look away, but I wouldn't let her. "There's no point in findin' the kids if the streets are crawlin' with walkers. We've gotta clear the way first, then we can go look for them. Alright?"

Her eyes softened for just a moment, and I saw the conflict in them, the pain of not knowing where our kids were, the fear of what could be happening to them. She nodded slowly, but there was still resistance in her stance. Then, with a swift motion, she slapped my hand away from her face.

"Don't grab my face just to make a point," she muttered under her breath, her frustration evident, but it wasn't anger at me, it was the situation.

I sighed, a mixture of relief and exhaustion flooding through me. "Fine," I said quietly, but the underlying protectiveness didn't leave my tone. I knew she was scared, and I didn't blame her. I was too. But we couldn't let that fear control us. Not now.

With one final, deep breath, I started the engine, already heading for the next hurdle—clearing the streets. I knew we had to push forward, that the kids needed us, but first, we needed to clear the town.

The rest of our family was counting on us. We were going to get through this—together.

I took a deep breath as I started the fuel truck, the engine roaring to life. The heavy weight of the situation hung over me as I shifted the truck into gear, pushing it forward. The walkers had been closing in, but we weren't going to let them take us. The truck bounced over the uneven road as we plowed through the town, mowing down any walkers in our path, their bodies crumpling under the heavy tires. My focus was sharp, eyes on the road ahead, listening to the screeches of the walkers as they were crushed beneath us.

When I reached the edge of the pond, I pulled the truck to a stop. The scent of the stagnant water mixed with the faint smell of burnt wood and decay filled my nostrils. This was it. We had one shot at making this work. I killed the engine, jumped out of the truck, and ran to the back, my boots pounding against the dirt.

I grabbed the long, thick fuel line and connected it to the truck's spout. The weight of the nozzle in my hand felt familiar, but today, it carried more urgency than ever. The water in front of me was a perfect target—its surface still and quiet, but it wouldn't be for long. With a hard twist of the valve, I opened it, and watched as the fuel began to pour out, sloshing loudly, a steady stream of liquid heading toward the water. The silence of the night was broken only by the sound of the fuel splashing into the pond.

Ella stood close beside me, her face tense, her eyes scanning the perimeter, never looking away for even a second. I could see her fists clenching at her sides as she held her breath, waiting for me to make my move.

The fuel spread across the surface of the pond like a viscous blanket, the liquid creating a sheen on the dark water. I knew I had to move fast—too much of this could spill over, and it would make it harder to light. With my heart pounding in my chest, I squeezed the handle harder, pushing the last of the fuel out. The sound of it splashing echoed around us.

"Move fast," I muttered to myself. My voice was barely a whisper, but I could feel the weight of the moment pressing on me.

As I closed the valve, I quickly ran back to the front of the truck. I was already thinking ahead—every move calculated. Ella followed me, climbing onto the roof of the truck as I began to scramble up, adrenaline pumping through me. She moved with ease, her grip sure on the truck's edge. I was aware of her presence, always close, but focused entirely on the task at hand.

The rest of the group climbed into the truck's cab, making sure to stay low, but it was Ella and I who needed to be the ones up top. Abraham started the engine again, rolling the truck forward a few feet, making sure we were far enough from the pond so that the blast wouldn't rip through the truck. My fingers trembled, but only for a moment. I wasn't going to let the fear win.

As we settled in place, I smacked the roof of the cab, signaling to Abraham. He took the truck as far as I'd indicated, keeping it steady. I turned, giving Ella a quick glance. She was gripping the lip of the roof, her face determined, her body ready for what came next.

"Hold on tight, darlin'!" I shouted over the engine's hum, my voice hoarse from the tension.

Ella's eyes met mine, and for a brief second, everything else disappeared. Her expression softened just a little, but there was no time for anything else. The adrenaline surged through me, and I snatched up the grenade launcher from where I had placed it, quickly loading it.

The weapon was heavy, but it fit well in my hands. I set my sights on the pond, watching the shimmering fuel as it rippled slightly, waiting for the spark that would ignite the flames. My finger hovered over the trigger, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

"Here goes nothin'," I muttered, squeezing the trigger.

The moment I did, the world seemed to stop. The launcher's boom echoed across the open space as a flash of light exploded across the water. The flames ignited in a rush, spreading rapidly across the surface, a violent swirl of orange and yellow licking the water's surface.

The walkers were drawn to the fire instantly. The blaze pulsed and crackled, casting flickering shadows across their rotting faces. They moved toward it, mindlessly stumbling into the flames, sinking into the fire as the flames consumed them. The light from the fire painted the night sky, a violent dance of death as they burned, their bodies disintegrating under the heat.

I watched, my breath held, as the fire roared, lighting up the landscape. For a moment, everything went silent. The only sound was the crackling of the fire and the occasional groan of a walker as it burned. The sight of it was surreal.

"We did it," Ella whispered, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of the flames.

I nodded, feeling a rush of relief. But there was no time to linger.

"Come on!" Ella's voice snapped me back into focus. "We have to clear the rest out!"

I nodded and turned, helping her down from the roof. We couldn't afford to waste any time. The walkers weren't all gone yet, and we still had to get to the others, to make sure they were safe.

As we ran toward the truck, the heat of the flames still on our backs, my mind was racing, but my body was already moving, taking me toward the next step in this hell of a night. We weren't done yet. Not by a long shot.

My knife felt solid in my palm as we plunged deeper into the chaos, cutting our way through the throng of the dead. Every motion was instinctive, the blade moving in a deadly arc as I carved through the rotting flesh of walkers that surged toward us. The air was thick with the stench of decay and blood, the putrid odor clinging to the sweat on my skin. My body moved with practiced precision, no hesitation. This was survival, and I had no room for anything else.

We fought through the streets, the sound of grinding teeth, growls, and snarls filling the air. Each swing of my blade took down another walker, their bodies crumpling to the ground with sickening thuds. Blood sprayed from severed jugulars, staining the pavement beneath our feet. The sounds of metal sinking into flesh, bones snapping, and the wet splatter of blood were the only music I heard. It was a dance of destruction, and we were the ones leading it.

I caught fleeting glimpses of Ella as we fought side by side. She was a blur of motion—her knife flashing, cutting through the dead with brutal efficiency. She moved with a deadly grace, her eyes narrowed, lips set in a grim line. I could see the fire in her, the rage and the desperation that pushed her forward. I knew what was driving her, the same thing that fueled me. Ruby and Ian. We had to get back to them.

As the hours dragged on, our movements became a rhythm, almost mechanical. The walkers kept coming, relentless and endless. Each body that fell only seemed to make room for more. Flesh and bone splintered under the force of our attacks, brains splattered across the pavement, their once-human features twisted into grotesque masks of hunger. I slashed through one walker's skull, the blade sinking deep, and as its body fell, another was already reaching for me, its decayed fingers scraping across my vest. I twisted, elbowing it in the face, the bone crunching under my fist, before slashing its throat with a swift motion. Blood poured from its neck like a gory fountain, drenching me in the process.

I didn't stop to wipe it away. There was no time.

I caught sight of Ella again, this time cutting through a cluster of walkers with a brutal efficiency that made my chest tighten with pride. Her face was streaked with blood, eyes fierce and unyielding as she moved through the crowd like a force of nature. She didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. And neither did I. We were both locked in this single, shared purpose: to survive, to protect, and to get back to our kids.

The hours dragged on in a blur of gore, the sky shifting from dusk to full daylight. Morning was here, but it didn't bring relief. The bodies, both of the dead and those we had fought to protect, were everywhere. The streets were slick with blood, dark and thick from the carnage. We moved through the mess, our bodies covered in gore, our clothes clinging to us with the weight of it. Even the Alexandrians, who had been terrified and untrained when we first started teaching them how to defend themselves, were drenched in blood. Some of them had fought like hell, and it showed. Their once pristine clothes were now stained with the life force of those they had fought off.

I hadn't realized how much time had passed until we found ourselves standing on the steps of the infirmary. Ella collapsed into my arms, her chest heaving with exhaustion. I held her close, feeling the weight of her on me as I tried to steady her. My own breath came in ragged gasps, but I didn't want to let go of her. Not after everything we'd just survived. We were alive, but barely.

Around us, the others gathered, their faces grim, their bodies just as worn out as ours. Someone filled us in on what had happened while we were out there. Carl had been shot in the eye at close range by Ron, Jessie's son. The horror of it hit me like a punch to the gut. The reality of the violence that had unfolded in our home.

Ron, Sam, and Jessie were all dead, torn apart by the very walkers we had been fighting. Carl was alive, barely, but unconscious. The weight of that news hung heavy in the air as we all processed the reality of the situation.

Rick and Michonne were at Carl's bedside, Judith being passed between them, her little face a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded us. I could see the exhaustion in their eyes, the strain of the fight still heavy on their faces. The whole group was on edge, waiting for something—answers, for the violence to stop, for some kind of normalcy to return. But there was nothing normal about this. We were all just trying to make it through.

Ella stirred in my arms, the weight of her against me gone too soon. I felt an ache, a hollow space where her warmth had been just seconds before. Her hand shot out, gripping my forearm tightly, and I followed her gaze. My heart slammed in my chest as I saw what she was looking at.

Without a word, Ella launched herself from the porch, her body moving with the kind of desperation I knew all too well. She ran down the street, her eyes locked on a figure I couldn't see yet. The moment she collided with one of the mothers in town, I saw Ruby's little face. Ella's hands were on her in an instant, pulling her from the woman's arms.

"Oh my god!" Ella cried out, pressing Ruby's tiny body to her chest, inhaling the scent of her like she hadn't breathed in months. I could hear the tremor in her voice, the mix of relief, fear, and love.

And then, Ian was there.

He was running towards me with all the energy he could muster, bypassing his mother completely, his small legs carrying him faster than I thought possible. My heart swelled as he crashed into my arms, and in that moment, the tension that had held me so tightly for what felt like forever, began to ease just a little. I wrapped my arms around him, lifting him off the ground, burying my face in his messy hair.

"I missed you, Dad!" Ian squealed, his voice high-pitched and filled with joy.

"I missed you too, kid," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. I could feel him cling to me, his small arms wrapped around my neck as if I was the only thing that mattered to him in the world. I held him tighter, feeling every ounce of love I had for him rush to the surface.

I glanced back at Ella, and my heart broke for her. She was kneeling in the street, Ruby pressed close to her chest. Her body was shaking with the sobs she couldn't hold back, her hands desperately tracing over Ruby's tiny body as if she couldn't believe she was really there.

I walked over to her, pulling Ian along with me, and sank to my knees beside her. The weight of our family, whole again, felt like everything and nothing at once. I pulled Ella into my arms, wrapping my family in the safety of my embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Ella sobbed, her voice full of pain. She kissed Ruby's head, her tiny hands, Ian's cheeks, his wild hair. "Mommy is never leaving you again! I'm so sorry, my babies, I'm so sorry."

I could hear the relief in her voice, the ache she'd been carrying for so long finally finding an outlet. Ruby's tiny hands grasped at her mother's fingers, as if instinctively understanding the love and promise in her mother's words.

"We missed you, Mom!" Ian giggled, his face lighting up as Ella kissed him all over.

"I know, baby, I know," Ella whispered, holding him close as though she was afraid he'd slip away again. "I missed you too."

Tears welled in my eyes as I watched them, as I held them. I leaned in, kissing the top of Ian's head, then Ella's hair, before resting my forehead against hers. "Thank God you're both alright," I whispered, the words heavy with meaning.

Ella's arms tightened around Ruby and Ian, her face pressed into their hair. She let out a long, relieved sigh, her body finally allowing her to relax into the moment.

For the first time in what felt like forever, we were whole again. Together. And nothing else in the world mattered more than this moment.