𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

84 | RESCUE

The road stretched out ahead of her, empty and dark. As she stared out of the windscreen, she had to remember to blink, the dryness of her eyes causing tears to build blurry barriers on her eyelashes. The sun hadn't quite set yet, a warm golden glow casting a mirage of life across the overgrown road ahead, looking as if it went on forever. The only sounds were the low rumble of the truck's engine and the rhythmic thud of her fingers drumming against the wheel, and the occasional deep breath she had to make the effort to take.

Tori's jaw was tight, her mind set. Feeling the small, weak fluttering in her stomach, she bit the inside of her cheek, ignoring the sensation. Pretending it wasn't there, that it didn't exist, was the best thing for her to do. She could only imagine what Daryl would be telling her about how reckless she was being, but she'd rather argue with him and be forgiven, than go another day with him being gone.

The darkness growing ever deeper seemed to go on way beyond any horizon ahead. Either side of the road stood miles of thick trees and shrubbery, echoing with the low groans of the dead as they were roused by the car engine rumbling past, moving way too fast for them to ever catch.

The sight before her had barely changed in minutes, the road barely bending. Then, in the distance, headlights cut through the night.

Set to full beam, the car coming the other way put Tori's to shame with its presence on the road. Her own headlights had been switched just the dim fog lights to keep herself hidden whilst she searched. This one seemed to want to be noticed. To be seen. To be feared.

She gripped the wheel tighter, her pulse hammering as the vehicle got closer. Driving through the centre of the road, she knew the driver had seen her already. As if the cars were set out to charge toward one another like knights in a duel.

Right before the bumpers could collide, Tori spun the steering wheel and swerved, slamming into the side of the black car.

The impact sent his vehicle skidding off the road, tires shrieking against the dirt. The car rolled down the shallow bank between the highway and the woods, ending up on its side. The headlights flickers, one of them shattering as the rolling finally stopped, smoke seeping from the hot engine that continued to sputter brokenly.

Tori didn't wait. Slamming on her breaks, she was out of her car in seconds, knife handle tightly clutched in her fist as she approached the smoking wreck.

The driver climbed out and stumbled on his feet, dazed, but basically fine.

With a wince, he wiped blood from a cut on his face. His dark skin was split open just below his eye, the wound bound to form a bruise. "Damn, lady. What is this, the F1?"

"You're with the Saviors," Tori ignored his comment, her teeth gritted together as she watched him struggle to stand straight. "Tell me where the base is."

A weak chuckle shook in his shoulders as he cricked his back, "You got a funny way of askin' for favours."

"Oh, I'm not asking," Tori swung her leg, hooking her foot around the man's ankle and knocking him down.

The grass was damp, and he easily slid in the mud, falling onto his back with a choked groan. Tori stood over him, pressing her forearm into his throat, and digging the tip of her knife into his side. The man paused, his breaths sharp and shallow as he held his hands up as well as he could.

"Tell me."

"You won't get close to it," the guy stuttered, his throat tight. "They got guards on the front entrance right on the road. Unless you're invisible, they'll see you a mile off."

"I got my ways," Tori uttered, grabbing the front of his shirt to haul him off the ground. With her knife pointed very close to his face, she gestured with a nod toward her car. "You drive. Any funny business, I'll leave you on the side of the road."