𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

52 | END OF THE LINE

"Can you say, 'Tori'?" she asked the girl. "Come on, I bet you can. Say 'Tori'."

"Tee," Halley babbled, kicking her legs around happily. "Tee, Tee, Tee."

Tori sighed with a shake of her head. "We'll work on it."

The gentle lapping of the clear stream was a peaceful sound when she compared it to the usually stoney silence she was surrounded by. Dunking the clean cloth into the water and ringing it out, she lightly wiped Halley's cheeks, who giggled at the tickly feeling.

Tori smiled as she bathed the little girl, using a few products she'd scavenged from a town she'd past through the previous day when taking a small detour from the tracks. She may not have believed in God, but she definitely said a silent prayer of gratitude that the baby supply store she'd come across was more or less untouched, stocked with everything she needed, and then some.

In the past four days since seeing the first sign for Terminus, she'd been getting by okay. Travel was harder with the baby, but she did what she had to do. Her knowledge on babies and their behaviours was dangerously limited for someone who was looking after one alone, but she was learning as she went.

Five days ago, Tori was prepared to end her own life. To accept the message the universe was sending her, saying it was time for her to check out before things got impossibly worse. Now, she had the responsibility of caring for another, looking after another life besides her own. Whether she found her people or not, she now had a reason to keep pushing onwards as long as she could.

That didn't mean the thoughts were gone. Far from it. They followed her around like a ghost in the dark, lingering, making small whispers that told her to do it. Whenever Halley fell asleep, or night fell and they had to stop moving until the daylight returned to the cloudless sky, Tori's mind still drifted back to that moment when she had the gun to her head, her final bullet ready to fire, and end her own suffering.

With no bullets left, and a baby to protect, it wasn't an option anymore. And that was good. Whether Terminus was legit or not, she needed to go there, to see what it was. More importantly, to see if her family were there too.

Just as she finished getting Halley changed into a fresh diaper and some clean clothes, the was a set of uneven footsteps, followed by a groan several feet away, across the stream. Halley whimpered, snuggling into Tori's chest, afraid of the walker that approached with its arms flailing around.

"Shh, it's okay," Tori whispered, holding the baby in one arm whilst her free hand reached for the knife on her belt, holding it by the blade. She squinted, closing one eye as she threw the weapon, the blade landing in the walker's forehead.

"See, we got him?" the brunette gently rocked Halley, trying to stop the crying before she got too loud. "C'mon, we should get moving. I'm following you, okay?" She poked the baby's nose, which earned her a small giggle.

They were back on the tracks within minutes, the stream only a few feet into the woods to their left. As she walked, she felt like she could feel the Earth turning. Being alone for days was one thing; being alone for days on the road with a one-year-old baby was another. Tori wasn't sure she'd slept more than ten hours in the five days since caring for Halley. No matter where they holed up for the night, she just couldn't risk missing something, and getting cornered with no way out... Again.

The guilt she felt for what happened to Jane was ever-present in the back of her head, trying to make up for what happened to the woman by keeping Halley safe, no matter what.

After nearly two hours of walking, the sun hitting its peak in the cloudless sky to mark the hour as midday, Tori finally saw something in the distance other than train tracks and brown-leaf trees. Another sign for Terminus stood slightly crooked, the post a little wonky where it was stabbed into the dirt. The map showed her she was close to the end of the line, and a wave of both relief and uncertainty overcame her.