Unbreakable threads

Chapter Seventy Three: Trapped in terminus.

As the group trudged on, the train tracks stretching endlessly before them, a pair of large gates loomed into view in the distance. The imposing structure stood silent, flanked by high fences and topped with barbed wire. A faded sign above the entrance read:
: "Terminus: Sanctuary for All. Community for All. Those Who Arrive, Survive."

Alyssa's stomach twisted the moment she saw it. Her hand instinctively went to her holster, her fingers twitching.Her gaze darted around the area, her senses heightened as she scanned the treeline and the clearing surrounding the gates. Something didn't feel right.

"We shouldn't just walk in," she said sharply, her voice breaking the group's silence. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing at the gates ahead. "We don't know what's in there. Could be anything. We should stay in the treeline and scope it out first."

Rick, who had also slowed as they approached, nodded in agreement, his jaw tightening. He didn't trust this place any more than Alyssa did. "She's right," he said, his voice low and steady. "We don't know who these people are or what they're about. We wait. Watch for a while."

Carl looked between the two of them, his hand tightening around his gun as he glanced uneasily at the gates. Michonne and Daryl exchanged a look, both of them nodding subtly. Daryl's grip on his crossbow shifted as he scanned the area, his body tense and ready.

"Alright," Michonne said, her voice calm but firm. "We stick to the treeline for now. Get a feel for what we're walking into."

The group moved quietly into the shadows of the trees, crouching down just out of sight of the gates. The gates were open just a crack, enough to see a hint of the courtyard beyond, but no one was visible.

As Alyssa crouched in the shadows of the treeline, her eyes darted toward Rick's holster. She noticed the spare guns tucked into it, and a thought struck her like lightning. It wasn't a calm thought—her tone, when she spoke, carried a certain edge, almost manic—but there was logic behind the madness.

"Bury them," she said abruptly, her voice low but intense.

Rick turned to her, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of her words. "What?" he asked, though his tone wasn't dismissive—it was curious, wary of the fire in her voice.

"The guns," she said, gesturing toward his holster and then to the ones slung over Daryl's back and tucked in Michonne's belt. "We bury the spares. Somewhere nearby, where only we know. If this place..." She hesitated, glancing toward the gates of Terminus, the suspicion in her eyes burning brightly. "If they take our weapons—and they probably will—we'll still have something. If we need to get out fast."

For a moment, there was silence as the group processed her words. Alyssa's tone was sharp, almost unhinged, but the suggestion made sense. The tension in Rick's face softened just slightly as he nodded, his mind already working out the practicality of it.

"She's right," Rick said, his voice low and firm. "We don't know these people. If this place is what it says it is, fine. But if it's not..." He trailed off, glancing at the others. "We need a fallback. We need a way to fight back."

Michonne looked at Alyssa, her expression unreadable but her tone decisive. "Where?" she asked simply.

Alyssa scanned the treeline, her eyes searching for a landmark. Finally, she pointed to a large tree with gnarled roots jutting out of the earth, its trunk partially hollowed out. "There," she said. "We dig by that tree. Deep enough that no one stumbles on it."

Rick nodded, already reaching for his belt and pulling out a knife to start digging. Carl watched in silence, his face tense but thoughtful. Michonne and Daryl joined in, quickly gathering the spare weapons: a pistol, a hunting knife, a small revolver, and a few rounds of ammunition. They worked quickly and quietly, their movements purposeful.