Seeing that Hershel had calmed down and agreed to return, everyone finally relaxed.
Calista took the chance to speak to Rick. "We found a motorcycle that still works. It can be used for scouting and quick movement. But we still need at least one vehicle that can handle long-distance travel, and enough fuel."
Rick looked at her, then at the motorcycle, and nodded. "I understand. Once we're back at the farm and Hershel and Beth are settled, we can organize a team to come back into town and focus on gathering vehicles and fuel."
He had gained a new appreciation for Calista's group.
Without wasting any time, they set out for the farm immediately.
Hershel sat in the passenger seat of Rick's car, with Glenn in the back.
Calista and Daryl stayed on their motorcycles, while Merle and Leah drove the pickup.
The setting sun painted the sky in warm shades of orange and red, casting a brief golden glow over the barren land.
With the tension of the search gone, the convoy moved at a steady pace, keeping formation.
Calista rode the Harley, feeling the cool evening breeze.
This trip into town had gone smoothly. They found the motorcycle and witnessed Hershel come to his senses.
They never ran into Randall's group like in the original storyline.
That only confirmed her belief that her earlier actions had already changed the course of events, like a butterfly effect.
In the pickup, Merle hummed off-key as he drove, clearly in a good mood.
Leah quietly watched the scenery slide past, then glanced at her sister riding ahead, occasionally checking the car behind them through the rearview mirror to keep track of the whole convoy.
She casually looked toward Daryl riding alongside the pickup.
His posture on the bike was relaxed and steady. His eyes still scanned the surroundings, but the sharpness in his features seemed softened by the setting sun.
Daryl seemed to notice her gaze and turned slightly to look at her.
Their eyes met for a brief moment. Leah showed no reaction.
Daryl, however, paused, then turned his head back a little awkwardly and focused on the road.
For a moment, it even looked like the tips of his ears had turned slightly red.
Probably just the sunset.
When the outline of the farm appeared in the fading light, a sense of relief spread through everyone.
The campfire at Rick's camp on Greene Farm was burning again, but tonight felt very different from the tense days after the barn incident.
The air carried a quiet, heavy calm after exhaustion.
After bringing Hershel back to the farmhouse and leaving him in the care of Maggie and Beth, who had just woken up and was still weak, Calista and the others returned briefly to the tool shed before heading over to the campfire, taking a spot off to the side.
She noticed that while the atmosphere was not exactly relaxed, it lacked the sharp edge of tension from the original storyline.
Lori sat by the fire, gently comforting an uneasy Carl.
When she saw Rick return safely with Hershel, relief showed clearly on her face.
Because Calista and the others had gone along, and because Rick's group returned in time, Lori had not been pushed to the brink.
Unlike in the original storyline, she had not driven out alone to look for Rick, so the accident never happened. Shane had no reason to go after her either.
Shane sat not far away, cleaning his gun.
His expression was still dark, but the explosive tension between him and Rick seemed to have eased for now.
Maybe Hershel's return and apology had, in some way, justified his actions in dealing with the threat.
Or maybe it was simply because nothing worse had happened tonight, so the anger he carried had nowhere to go.
Shane only gave Rick and Hershel a cold glance, then briefly looked toward Calista in the corner before returning his focus to his weapon.
No accident. No escalation.
For once, the group had a chance to breathe.
Calista watched quietly. She took the hot water Carol handed them, thanked her, and sat at the edge of the fire.
Leah stood not far behind her.
"Finally, we can catch our breath," Merle said as he dropped onto a pile of hay nearby, swinging his metal arm.
"But I'm already sick of this place. Calista, when are we going to find Carver and the others?"
Calista took a small sip of hot water, feeling the warmth from the fire, and stretched her sore limbs from riding.
"In the next few days. Now that we have the motorcycle, our mobility's much better. Tomorrow we'll check the vehicles again and gather more fuel. Then we head to the prison."
She looked at Leah. Leah nodded in agreement.
Their voices were low, almost lost in the crackling of the fire.
Daryl sat alone on an old stump, absentmindedly carving a piece of wood with his knife, making more crossbow bolts.
Merle got up and walked over, nudging him lightly with his elbow and lowering his voice.
"Hey, kid. So, how was today? Beats staying stuck on this crappy farm with Rick and the others, right?"
Daryl did not even look up. He gave an impatient grunt and kept carving, wood shavings falling steadily.
In the past, he would have already walked away.
But this time, he stayed put, only shifting slightly, giving off a clear "don't bother me, but I'm listening" attitude.
Seeing that Daryl had not left, Merle pushed further, leaning in closer and lowering his voice even more.
"See that? Calista may be young, but she's sharp and tough. And Leah's skills..."
He clicked his tongue. "They're on a whole different level from us."
Daryl slowed his carving, but still did not interrupt.
Merle watched his reaction, then grew more serious.
"I'm telling you straight, Daryl. In a few days, once we find a good vehicle and enough fuel, we're leaving."
Daryl's knife stopped.
He kept his head down, staring at the sharpened stick in his hand, the firelight casting shadows beneath his lowered lashes.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
After a long moment, Daryl finally spoke, his voice low and rough.
"You're... really leaving?"
...
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