34. No Going Back

⤐

  Her eyes fluttered open slowly, unwilling to interrupt the calmest sleep they've had in a long time. Sunlight was already streaming through the window, settling over the bed in a golden haze. Her breath hitched as her memory clicked, waking from the fog of sleep slower than her body.

  Daryl.

  She sat up straight, her back flat against the wall. He was already awake and ready for the day, sipping on a cup of coffee as he stared out the window. He turned his gaze to her, a smile flicking the corners of his lips. "Morning," he murmured, standing up from the rocking chair he had scooted across the room. He put the chair back in it's place in the corner and grabbed the other mug off her desk, passing it to her wordlessly.

  The coffee was lukewarm at best, but she could've sworn it was the best cup she had ever had. "Thanks," she whispered, crossing her legs and sweeping her curls over her shoulder. "What time is it?"

"Eh, not too late," he shrugged, sitting on the farthest edge of the bed away from her. "Just after nine."

"Jesus," she mumbled. "Haven't slept eight hours in years.." she trailed off, just as a pit of anxiety settled inside her. "Oh my god- Jesus! Is he awake?" She tossed the blanket away from her, scrambling out of bed and set the coffee cup back on her desk.

"Well, that's the thing," he grunted. He cleared his throat and stood to face her. "He broke out. Then broke in here. Rick and Michonne caught him and we're all gonna talk."

"What the hell," she raised her hands in exasperation. "How did he get out? How the hell did he get in here? How did Rick and Michonne find hin? Oh I have so many questions, I need to get dressed, I need to find Rick," she rambled as she scurried around the room, snatching a rubber band off her dresser and shoving her hair into a ponytail.

"Alright, alright, Ace," he murmured, resting his hand on her shoulder to calm her nervous babbling. "Nobody's going anywhere, you'll have plenty of time for answers, okay?" She felt her shoulders relax and her jaw unclench, and she took a deep breath. "Now, get dressed," he ordered softly. "I'll wait for ya downstairs." He paused for a moment, just a small one, before cupping a hand around her head and pulling her close to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

And just like that, he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him. She hurriedly changed into her jeans and a brown flannel, fumbling with the plastic buttons as she shoved her boots on and stumbled out the door. As he promised, Daryl was waiting for her by the stairs, his fading wings facing her. She took the steps two at a time and jumped down to meet him, reaching for the door before he put a hand on hers to stop her.

  "Nuh uh," he whispered and jerked his head towards the dining room. "In there."

  She followed to where he pointed down the hallway and into the room, soft mumbling voices filtering her way. "You're well equipped, but your provisions are low," Jesus's light tone was the first to register. "Very low for the amount of people you have. Fifty four?"

  "More than that," Rick growled as Zepp rounded the corner. He glanced her way and nodded, returning his glare to Jesus who sat at the table. A few of the others lingered around the room, Michonne, Rosita, Glenn and Maggie. She stood between Rick and Daryl, her fingertips gripping the chair in front of her until her knuckles turned white.

  "Well," Jesus continued. "I appreciate the cookie." He held one of Carol's cookies up in cheers. "Compliments to the chef."

  "She ain't here," Daryl grumbled.

  Jesus sighed and put his hands flat on the wooden table before him. "Look, we got off to a bad start. But we're on the same side, the living side. You guys had every reason to leave me out there," he gaze shifted between Rick, Zepp, and Daryl. "But you didn't. I'm from a place a lot like this one," he smiled. "Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took the truck because my community needs things, and you three looked like trouble." His eyes lingered a little longer on Zepp, and shifted her weight between her feet, looking away.

  "I was wrong," he sighed. "You're good people, and this is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other."

  The group was silent, everyone exchanging glances before letting their questioning expressions turn to Rick. He scratched at his beard in thought and inhaled sharply. "You have food?" Their main necessity at this point, their pantry running dangerously low.

  "We've started to raise livestock," Jesus nodded. "We scavenge and we grow. Everything from tomatoes to sorghum."

  "Tell us why we should believe you," Zepp finally spoke, just above a whisper.

  "I can show you. If we take a car, I can take you back home in a day and you can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer."

  Her skin crawled, the conversation eerily similar to when Aaron brought them here. He was telling the truth, so maybe Jesus was too. There was no way to be sure unless they followed.

  "Wait, you said you were looking for more settlements," Rick hushed. "You mean you're already trading with other groups?"

  "Your world is about to get a whole lot bigger," Jesus grinned.

  Daryl and Zepp locked eyes, his face reflecting what she was sure hers did. Uneasiness, uncertainty, unsure. Rick chatted quietly with Michonne and the others and Daryl tapped Zepp softly on the elbow, tilting his chin towards the door leading to the backyard. She wordlessly agreed and snaked her way around the group, sliding open the glass door and stepping out into the cool breeze.

  "So," he sighed softly, standing close beside her until she could feel his chest brushing against her shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

  She shook her head, chewing nervously on her thumbnail and gazing over the patchy green grass. "I don't know. He sounds like Aaron when we first met, and that's worked out for us so far. I just have this feeling in my gut... I can't explain it."

  "Yeah, me too," he grumbled, plopping down on the porch steps and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He only had a few left now, she'd have to keep an eye out for more the next time they went on a run. She joined him as he flicked the lighter, inhaling deeply and passing it over. "Don't know if finding other groups is a good thing anymore. Means more guns, ammo, means families.. when people got more to fight for, they fight ten times harder." His eyes flicked her way and then back down to his boots.

"Hmm," she hummed absentmindedly. "Maybe you're right. But this.. this is what Rick and them have been working towards. This could be the future."

"The only future I care about is here," he whispered, glancing over at her. "So you tell me where to go, and I'll go."

She blushed at his words, goosebumps prickling down her arms and legs. They hadn't discussed anything about their kiss or the tension they have with each other, and in the new world it felt almost trivial and childish to have "the talk". But she knew he only spoke words that he truly meant, that he'd never waste his breath on lies. And that was good enough for her.

"Let's chew up some asphalt!" Abraham shouted, sticking his head out the door. He looked down at the pair on the stairs and winked at Zepp, heading back inside.

"Well, I guess that answers that," she murmured, rising from the step they perched on together. He stood in unison with her, standing close enough that she was conscious of the way he smelled. He cupped a hand under her elbow as they made their way up the stairs.

"Let's go."

⤐

They all piled into an old camper, Rick, Zepp, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, Sasha, Abraham, and Jesus. It was too incredibly cramped and crowded for Zepp's taste, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness and hope. They were all together, heading down the road towards a new future. She sat in the back row of seats with Daryl and Abraham on either side of her, Maggie and Glenn across. They chatted and laughed, even Daryl throwing a response in here and there.

"Can I ask you a question?" Abraham leaned forward towards Glenn, shifting as the vehicle bumped along.

"Sure," Glenn murmured, softly patting Maggie's thigh next to him.

"When you were, uh, pouring the Bisquick... were you trying to make pancakes?" Abraham grunted as Zepp shoved her elbow in his side, hiding her laugh from him.

"Uh, yes?" Glenn was confused at first, realization setting in. "Oh, okay. Um, yes. It was something we had talked about. Why?"

Abraham shook his head, leaning back against the seat. "Well, given the precarious state of affairs on any given Sunday, I am damn near floored that you or anyone else would have the cajones to make a call like that."

"Well, we're trying to build something... me and her," Glenn smiled softly. Zepp had forgotten how calming his presence was, and how rare it was to see him without a smile or at least a glint of one.

"For the record, I see rain coming... I'm wearing galoshes. I'm doublin' up," Abraham sighed.

Daryl snorted a laugh next to her and the group chuckled, a picturesque moment like they were off on a family vacation. But reality would always set in sooner or later. She felt the camper squeal on it's brakes and she scrambled to the front where Rick and Michonne were at the helm. He was slowly pulling over to the side of the road, stopping a few feet away from an overturned car. Walker limbs and heads stuck out from the grill and the wheels, the heads still snarling and snapping.

"That's one of ours," Jesus cried, throwing open the door and bounding down the steps. The rest of the group followed slowly, carefully, while Jesus searched the bloody wreckage. The hammer of a gun clicked and he was met face to face with Rick's pistol, Zepp's out of it's holster the instant she heard the sound.

"If this is a trick," Rick drawled. "It won't end well for you."

"My people are in trouble," Jesus threw up his hands. "We don't have a lot of fighters. I know how it looks, but I'll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?"

"No," Daryl growled behind her. "Tracks right here," he called out, already following the path over to the houses lining the road. She jogged to his side and the others were quick behind them, everyone pulling out and preparing their weapons.

They followed the tracks to a beaten down brick house with a tilting porch and a smudged glass screen door. Rick made his way to the front and banged his fist against the glass in short, quick raps.

"They gotta be in there," Jesus huffed, Michonne close at his side with a tight grip on her katana.

"We moving in or what?" Zepp whispered to Rick.

"How do we know this ain't firecrackers in a trash can?" Daryl called over to Jesus as he gingerly rested his hand on the small of Zepp's back.

"You don't."

They stared for a moment, the group at the man and the man back at them.

"We'll get your people," Rick decided. "You're staying here with one of us. That's the deal." They agreed Maggie would stay, away from the danger but with a skilled eye trained on Jesus at all times. "You hear me whistle, you shoot him," Rick growled.

"I will," Maggie nodded, squeezing Glenn back before turning to face the loner, aiming her hand gun at the back of his head. Daryl held the door for everyone, watching their backs as they slowly filtered in. She waited with him until everyone else was inside and he circled around her, covering her as she crossed the threshold.

The house was dark and dusty, as all places were now. What made the places worse was the times you could hear walkers snarling in the distance. It sounded like there were only a few, but everything is deceiving in the dark. They split into groups along the different hallways and rooms, Daryl and Zepp taking the farthest corner. She walked heel to toe along the carpeted hallway, creeping with her side touching the pine walls. Daryl was just behind her, turning every few moments to check their backside. Faded family photos and children's paintings lined the walls and shelves, and her heart twinged at the memory of the nursery they had found in the last house they were in.

Wether she was distracted by her thoughts or walkers were just getting quieter now, her heart dropped when one suddenly turned the corner, it's biting jaws just level with her nose. She ducked quickly and shoved her shoulder into it's rotting chest, knocking it back onto the floor. Daryl came behind her, smooth and effortless like water, and shoved his hunting knife into it's skull. She had just a moment to catch her breath before another reached for her, snarling and groaning as it wrapped it's bony fingers through her hair. Her reflexes were faster the second time, her knife sliding easily into it's temple as it crumpled to the ground.

They visually assessed each other for damage, Daryl's rough fingers sliding across her forehead. A small clatter from the room across from them snapped their attention away from each other, hurtling into the room with their knives raised. A man with sandy blonde hair huddled in the corner, shoved in between the wall and a filing cabinet.

"Come on, we're with Jesus," Zepp shouted, grabbing the man's upstretched arm. "Let's go!" She pulled him from his hiding spot and he resisted, cowering slightly.

"I can't go with you," he stuttered. "I'm looking for my friend. He's close, and he's hurt from the crash." Daryl wiped a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. The sound of walker growls was growing louder by the second, more than just a few of them now.

"Come on," he shouted, grabbing Zepp's hand. She obliged and followed, the man could come with them or not. It was his choice. They hurtled down the hallway and she felt a small sense of relief when she heard his footsteps after them. They turned the corner to meet Glenn and Abraham, who was dragging another man, his arm laced around Abe's shoulder. Rick and Michonne met them at the front door, and they all clambered safely out of the house and onto the porch. Two other survivors were waiting for them there, and Jesus jumped up the steps to help them down.

They piled back into the camper and Rick threw it into drive, pulling away from the house of horrors. The strangers sat in the very back together scattered around the bench and flimsy mattress, Glenn and Maggie watching them. Zepp could faintly hear Maggie chatting with them, caught the man she found saying he was a doctor who was bringing back medications. She tuned out the conversation as Daryl dropped on the seat next to her and she leaned into his side. They bounced along the road in silence, and she eventually let her head rest on his shoulder. She almost expected him to pull away, but she couldn't make out why. To her surprise, he didn't flinch, instead slouching down further to give her more room to lean.

The camper squealed to a stop again, and she could hear the tires fighting to roll through a thick sludge of mud. "Shit," Rick grumbled. "We're stuck."

Jesus stood to glance out the windshield and smiled, patting Rick on the shoulder. "No worries," he laughed. "We're here."

Daryl went down the stairs before her, reaching out a hand to help her balance while her boots squelched in the wet mud. She squinted her eyes against the bright sun, lifting a hand over her brow. Directly in front of them stretched a tall wooden fence, the kind of fence she'd see in old movies surrounding an ancient village or castle.

"That's the hilltop," Jesus smiled, folding his hands together in front of him. It was just a mile or so from the stuck camper to the front gates, two sentries posted on either side.

"Stop right there," they called out. They were immediately greeted by six rifles pointed their way.

"You gonna make us?" Zepp shouted back. Jesus raised his hands, twisting to face one palm to each group.

"Jesus, what the hell is this?" one of the men yelled down.

"Open the gates, Cal," his voice was steady and calm. "Freddie's hurt. Look, I'm sorry about these guys," he lowered his hands and turned back to their group. "They get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing."

"They give up their weapons," the other guard sneered. "Then we open the gates."

Daryl fixed his aim on him, stepping forward. "Why don't you come down here and get 'em?"

"Gentlemen," the hilltop doctor cried, throwing himself in front of the group. "Look, we vouch for these people, alright? They saved us out there." He pointed to Zepp and she returned a nod in appreciation.

"Lower the spears," Jesus sighed.

"I'm not taking any chances," Rick growled, his knuckles white from the grip on his rifle. "Tell your guy Gregory to come out here."

"No," Jesus insisted. "Don't you see what just happened? I'm letting you keep your guns. We ran out of ammo months ago.. I like you people. I trust you. Trust us."

Rick's eyes flitted from Jesus to the men above them, assessing every option and detail. He finally nodded, waving a hand towards where Zepp and Daryl still pointed their guns to the guards. They lowered them slowly and inched back to the group.

"Open the gates, Cal," Jesus sighed once more.

Finally, the giant wooden gates covered with slabs of steel swung open, screeching and squeaking as they went. A large, colonial style building rested just in the center, makeshift stables with cows and horses on one side and a few FEMA trailers scattered on the other. "There was a materials yard for a power company nearby," Jesus narrated as they ambled up the slanted dirt path. "That's how we put up the walls. A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them." People were outside of their trailers, some playing with kids, others drying out laundry or sweeping off rugs.

"How is it that people found out about this place?" Michonne called out from her place next to Rick. Jesus grinned and pointed towards the brick building. "That's the Barrington House. The family that owned it gave it to the state in the thirties. The state turned it into a living history museum," he put up his hands in grandeur. "Every elementary school within fifty miles used to come here for field trips. The place was running a long time before the modern world built up around it. I think people came here because they figured it'd be running after the modern world broke down."

Zepp nodded to nobody in particular, gazing over the thick walls and high pillars surrounding the porch. A small tower was centered on the roof, windows on all sides. Jesus followed her gaze to the tower and smiled again. "Those windows let us see for miles in every direction. Perfect for security. Come on, I'll show you inside."

The group hesitated in the courtyard, glancing at each other in question. "Came all this way," Zepp commented. "Might as well follow." Rick nodded and adjusted his rifle in his hands, clearing his throat. He was the first to move his feet towards the open door, the others close behind. Zepp lingered in the doorway, a cold chill slithering through her veins.

"Hey," Daryl murmured, one hand on her back. "You okay?"

She sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good," she whispered and planted one boot across the doorway.

There was no going back.