Sequel to Fight, Love, Live
**Complete**
Riley Dixon has had an... interesting nine months to say the least. She killed her zombified ex, found her supposed-to-be comatose brother, made some new best friends, found the love of her life, and had a ba...
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Daryl said we were about a mile out when I noticed it.
A crap ton of tire tracks, dark and heavy, were visible on the dirt road, coming from the direction the Saviors would have to take to get here from the Sanctuary.
"Daryl. Daryl. Stop." I hissed, placing my hand on his arm to grab his attention, and I could hear Dale's little feet padding on the short carpet to get to us from where he had been standing in the back as Daryl slowly brought the truck to a stop.
"What?" He huffed, glancing at me and then back out, nervous about having this big of a vehicle stopped in the middle of the road, this close to his home.
"Those tracks, they look like the tracks that Negan's trucks leave. The big ones, the ones they use to collect supplies from the communities. Either he's here, or he just went through. Either way we need to hide this thing somewhere, and walk." I said, and after a moment of thought, he nodded, and put the RV back into drive.
"I know a spot, let's go." He grumbled, and at the fork, instead of continuing on straight like the map said to, he turned to take the other road. A short three or four minute drive later, he pulled off the road, following a small little trail that probably used to be a driveway, and moments later a little house broke through the trees and he brought the RV to a slow stop.
"Right. They shouldn't be able to see it from here, and I doubt they'd use this road anyway. Let's go, it's a pretty short walk back from here." Daryl said, smiling over at me, and then back at Dale as he pushed the door open and hopped out. I watched as Dale sat in the driver's seat and scooted out before opening up my own door and hopping down myself.
"Which way?" I called, turning to look at Daryl, who had popped the front of the RV off so he could get to the engine, he was messing around with something but I couldn't tell what. It was while I was watching Daryl, admiring his arms and making a fool of myself, that I realized I couldn't see Dale.
"Dale? Baby? Where are you?" I called, instantly panicking. I pulled my gun out from the holster at my hip, and turned around, looking for anywhere he could be, but I didn't see him.
"Ri? What's going on?" Daryl asked, pulling his head out from the engine, and bringing a piece of it with him. I spun to face him, and I'm sure I looked as crazy as I felt but I couldn't help it.
"Where's Dale? He was with you, where is he?" I asked, my voice increasing in pitch, as Daryl's eyes widened, fear taking hold of him.
"Mommy! Mommy look what I - Mommy!" Dale screamed, and I sprinted, running towards the direction that the scream came from, and when I saw the walker, with it's hands latched onto my son's boot, desperately clawing at him, trying to get a chuck of his flesh, I didn't hesitate.
I raised my right hand, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet shattered the walker's brain, blowing bits of bone, tissue, and brain onto the wall of the cabin behind it, and onto the back of Dale's clothes.
