The first night was the worst, but once the hues of dawn began to fill in Leya hoped they had survived what was possibly the hardest part. She had hoped that once she woke up from her restless sleep that it would all be over, but it wasn't. She was still on the highway with the rest of the survivors. She was starting to realize this wasn't a dream or even a nightmare.

It was very much real.

Her dad was still in the hospital, left abandoned and stranded. She still wasn't convinced he was dead, but right now she didn't do anything about it and that only pissed her off more.

Right now, she had to focus on the current matter at hand. The world was falling apart around them.

She didn't have a very good sense of smell, but even Leya could smell the change in the air, the subtle tension that rippled through it like a crack of electricity. Everyone was on edge, and she eyed the others warily. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business so far, but that didn't mean it was always going to be peaceful. She knew it wouldn't be smart to trust any of them, no matter how helpless and desperate they were.

Sooner or later conflict was going to start. That's how it always seemed to happen, especially when everyone was so tense and afraid. The undead were a threat, but the living were even more intimidating. Nothing was more unpredictable than human emotions, which was bound to get the better of them at some point.

"What are we going to do now?" Leya asked as she, her mother and Shane gathered around the car. "We can't just keep sitting here."

Carl was nearby, playing with rocks in the dirt near their feet, oblivious to the growing tension. She kept a close eye on him, unwilling to let him anywhere out of her sight. She knew how quickly accidents could happen with children, and she was paranoid now more than ever.

"I'll walk up ahead a bit and see what's going on," Shane said thoughtfully. "I'll find a clear path for us until we can break away. We can't stay close to these people."

"I think staying in a group might be a better option," Lori countered. "Stronger in numbers, right?"

Leya crossed her arms, glancing between her mother and Shane as they debated their next move. She could see both sides, but there was no easy answer.

Shane shook his head, his face hard. "Being in a big group means we're more likely to attract attention—whether it's from those things or from people who'll do whatever it takes to survive. I'm not risking that."

Lori sighed, looking conflicted. "But if we go off on our own, we might not make it either. It's a long way to Atlanta, and we don't know what's out there. At least with more people, we have a better chance of keeping watch, finding supplies."

As the other two continued to argue, Leya's eyes scanned the area. Everyone else seemed just as exhausted and defeated, and she hated knowing that's what they all looked like. She hated knowing even more that they would probably be dead soon. They were all equally a target to those creatures.

She jumped when she heard the revving of an engine from up ahead, a sound that pierced the already tense air.

Leya's heart leapt into her throat as the sound of the engine revving echoed through the stillness. It was jarring, cutting through the quiet that had settled over the stranded group like a blanket of fear. She instinctively tensed, her hand moving toward the knife she had hastily tucked into her belt earlier.

Her eyes darted toward the source of the noise, spotting a motorcycle weaving its way through the stalled cars. For a brief moment, panic set in—was this someone dangerous? But then she noticed the rider was skillfully navigating the wreckage. As he got closer, she could make out the rough appearance of the man—dirty, covered in sweat and grime, with wild eyes scanning the area.

Leya took a step back, unsure whether to be relieved or concerned. The man looked like he'd been through hell, and something about him felt unpredictable. She didn't trust people with that crazy look in his eyes. As he pulled the bike to a stop a few feet from where she stood, he kicked down the stand and dismounted, his eyes locking onto her with an intensity that made her uneasy.

"You folks stranded too?"

His voice was gravelly, worn down from what sounded like days without rest. He didn't wait for an answer, just scanned the group with a quick, calculating glance.

Leya exchanged a wary look with her mother and Shane, who were just as skeptical. Shane stepped forward, sizing up the newcomer with narrowed eyes.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his tone guarded. "And what do you want?"

The man wiped sweat from his brow, his expression unreadable. "Name's Daryl. I ain't here to cause trouble, just tryin' to find my brother. Ugly bastard named Merle. Figured I'd see if any of y'all had seen him."

Shane's expression didn't soften at Daryl's answer, but he gave a slight shake of his head. "Ain't seen anyone by that description. Most people we've come across are either on their own or... worse."

Leya noticed how Daryl's jaw tensed at the unspoken implication, but he didn't seem rattled. Instead, he nodded, his eyes flickering with a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Yeah, figures. Merle ain't exactly the type to make friends."

There was a brief silence, thick with tension. Lori spoke up next, her voice gentler than Shane's but still cautious. "We haven't seen anyone besides our group for a while. You're welcome to stay if you need a place, but we're trying to figure things out too."

"Nah," Daryl said gruffly. "I'm better on my own."

Shane seemed satisfied with Daryl's answer, nodding once but keeping his distance. Lori, however, glanced at Leya, her face showing a mixture of concern and sympathy. Leya felt a pang of guilt. Part of her didn't want to leave Daryl to fend for himself, but another part understood why he would want to be alone. Trusting strangers was a gamble no one wanted to make.

Leya looked at Daryl, her voice softer than before. "Well, if you change your mind, we're not going anywhere—at least not for now."

Daryl grunted in response, his eyes distant. He seemed restless, like a man who wasn't used to standing still for too long. "Appreciate the offer," he muttered, his tone distant. "Y'all take care."

She tensed as he shifted, the engine protesting as he started it up again. The roar of Daryl's motorcycle broke the fragile quiet that had settled over them. Leya watched as he adjusted his grip on the handlebars, his gaze flicking over the group one last time before focusing ahead. He was right, she thought—this road wasn't safe, and staying here too long would only bring trouble.

Shane folded his arms, still standing tall and firm like a sentry. "Let him go," he muttered. "He'll be fine. Guys like him don't need nobody."

Leya wasn't so sure. Something about Daryl's distant eyes, the way he seemed both determined and lost, tugged at her. But there was nothing she could do. They were all trying to survive in their own way, and she had her own family to think about.

She watched him as he went further into the distance, her eyes stuck on the faded angel wings on the back of his leather jacket. She wouldn't say so out loud, but there was something incredibly attractive about his rough demeanor.

Leya couldn't shake the image of Daryl as he disappeared from view. There was something about his ruggedness, the way he moved with a quiet confidence, that made her heart skip a beat. She felt a twinge of guilt at the thought. This wasn't the time to be thinking about things like that, not with the world falling apart around them. But still, it lingered.

She turned her attention back to her mother and Shane, who were busy discussing their next move. Her mom's worried expression had deepened, the stress of everything weighing heavily on her. Leya wanted to say something to comfort her, but what could she say? They were all in the same boat—no plan, no certainty of survival, just trying to make it one more day.

As the morning sun rose higher, the reality of their situation hit Leya harder. They couldn't stay on the highway forever. Walkers would come eventually, drawn by the noise or the smell of human flesh. They needed to find somewhere more secure. If there even was such a place.

"I'll help keep watch," Leya finally said, cutting into Shane and Lori's conversation. "We shouldn't let our guard down, even for a second."

Shane nodded, looking her over for a moment as if assessing her resolve. "Good idea. We'll take turns, but you're right—eyes on everything."

Lori placed a hand on Leya's arm, her touch warm and reassuring. "We'll get through this, Leya. We just need to stay smart, stay together."

Leya gave a small nod, though she wasn't entirely convinced. Daryl's words still echoed in her head, and part of her couldn't help but wonder—was it better to be alone in this world, to rely only on yourself? Or did sticking with a group, even one as fragile as theirs, give them a better shot?

She didn't know. She didn't know anything right now, and trying to think of the bigger picture was causing a bigger headache than it was worth. Besides, they were her family, her blood relatives, at least her mom and her brother were. She couldn't leave them behind, even if she wanted to leave the others. Unfortunately, though, there was no way for them to get away from Shane and the rest without causing a problem. For now, she'd stay. But her thoughts kept drifting back to Daryl, wondering where he was headed and whether they'd cross paths again.