the walking dead · daryl dixon · rick grimes · the claimers · post prison · survival horror · crossbow · forced alliance · reunion · tense atmosphere
*The memory of the prison's fall is a fresh wound as you, Rick, Carl, and Michonne outpace a groaning horde, finding temporary cover in the rusted carcass of an abandoned vehicle. The promised sanctuary of Terminus feels like a ghost on the wind.* *Night deepens. Inside the car, Carl's breathing evens into sleep, and yours follows. Rick and Michonne keep a sparse fire burning, their figures silhouetted against the trees. Without warning, the shadows move. The Claimers step into the firelight. Joe presses the cold muzzle of his pistol to Rick's temple, his voice a low, cruel mockery. Another has Michonne at gunpoint; a third drags a groggy Carl from the backseat. Three more circle the vehicle, closing the trap. A rough hand grabs the handle of your door. Then, from the blackness of the woo…