Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nothing can ever go back to normal when the dead take almost everything away from you. Taking my life into perspective in that very moment, as I wove through trees and ducked under branches, I was really wishing I'd tried harder in track at high school.

I'd taken only a brief moment to glance behind me, attempting to trace the direction the sounds of inhuman growling was coming from. Though I'd only spotted a single spook, its skinny, rotten carcass lurching after me, I wasn't taking any chances. There could be more spooks hanging around, just waiting for their next fleshy meal to run straight into their gaping mouths, their outstretched, claw-like hands.

At my side was my sister. A small girl, only ten, and a whole lot younger than I was. She was faring far better in these woods than I was, being small enough to run under the overhanging tree branches that had scratched the shit out of my face.

The spook behind us gave an angered snarl, impatient in catching its dinner. I surged forward with all the adrenaline I could muster, seizing my sister by the hand and pulling her along with me. I ignored the branches ripping my skin, tearing at the greasy strands of my hair. I was not dying today. Not when we'd survived for so long. I'd let down enough people already.

We broke through the treeline and leaped over a road barrier. Directly across from us was an abandoned camp set up in front of a decrepit, hopefully, empty gas station. A plan was drafting itself in my head. If we could disappear among the maze of car ruins and shredded tents, I could have time to pull the small hunting knife from my belt and kill the spook, who, quite frankly, was pissing me off now. With no working set of lungs, spooks could keep walking for miles. We'd never lose it on foot.

I crouched behind an ugly, canary yellow car, my sister by my side, and waited. The low growling of the spook got closer and closer. It has finally made its way to the campsite. I watched from under the car, noticing its worn shoes move inch by inch as it shuffled across the grass, searching for its lost meal. I might have felt pity for it if it hadn't been us it wanted to eat.

"What're you gonna do?" My sister whispered. I shushed her quickly, just in case it heard us. One thing I have noticed about lurkers was their uncanny ability to hear and smell you from a distance. Dad has likened them to sharks. Mom had pointed out that sharks stayed in the water, and therefore could never be as big of a threat as the spooks were. For the first time in my life, I was inclined to agree with my Momma.

The spook was right by the canary car now. If it kept going, it would walk right to us. Any second now. I tightened my grip on my knife and carefully pulled it out in front of me. I'd have to nail this son of a bitch quickly, and quietly. I had no idea if there were more around.

Any moment now...

The tops of its decaying shoulders came into view. I jumped up, knife in hand-

A well-aimed gunshot sent the spook tumbling to the group.

Shit. My mind went into survival mode; a human with a gun was more dangerous than a spook could ever be. My sister squealed in fright, scrambling to her feet to clutch at me. Though both of us had guns, neither of us were quick enough to draw them before whoever had fired could take us both out.

"Woah!" I yelled, throwing my hands up. The gunner came into view, looking as bewildered as I assumed I did.

He wasn't a young man. He wasn't old though, either. Dark-haired and thin, with a slight limp and icy blue eyes, clouded by confusion. I did a quick once-over and determined that he wasn't used to the situation he was in. The furrowed brows and flared nostrils indicated he was afraid, which wouldn't have been surprising. But the rigidness of his shoulders and the way he kept moving towards us told me he hadn't learned the same lessons almost every survivor did. He was worried, but not of us. There was a softness in his eyes that became clearer as he stepped nearer. By the time we were face to face, he'd removed his finger from the trigger. It wasn't something I'd have done.

"Are you two okay?" he asked, lending his glance between us and the spook. I froze up, unsure of what to say. I'd not been in friendly contact with other people for a while now. In truth, I'd not expected humans to be alive this close to the city.

"We're fine. Can't say the same for him, though." I finally replied, awkwardly gesturing to the spook. The stranger, wearing what I now recognised as a police uniform, tipped his hat and smiled, though it was tight around the corners. "Look, thanks for that. I had it handled, but still."

"S'alright, I just put down another one only a little while ago," he stopped speaking as his voice pitched just a little higher. "she was only a kid when she, ya know-"

"When she got bit?" I finished for him. He nodded, and I watched those kind eyes look down at my little sister in what I could only describe as mourning. Putting down a spook that had once been a child was hard, I knew that too well. "you, uh, seem a little shaken up."

"I-yeah," he stumbled over the words like he was trying to think of a reason- or an excuse-. "I just woke up from a coma a day ago. Been out since before all...this." he gestured to the chaos of the abandoned campsite around us. Sweat dripped from his face onto his shirt, collectively forming a dark stain I couldn't quite verify wasn't also made from tears. The crickets hummed in the summer heat as we stood silently. What the hell did you say to a man who'd been unconscious the entire apocalypse?

"I, Jesus, that- I can't even imagine what that feels like," I offered a weak attempt at sympathy, something I hadn't practiced in a while. "Listen, I hope you manage to make your way to wherever you need to go, but we can't stick around in one place this long, it's not safe." I gripped my sister's hand and tugged gently, signalling to her that we needed to leave soon.

"Then come with me," he said, wiping sweat from his eyes. "I'm Rick Grimes, you?"

I thought over giving him my name. I'd not planned on getting comfortable with any other humans whilst stuck in Georgia. "Liz."

"I'm Josephine," my sister added. She stared up at Rick Grimes with those big green eyes of hers. "You can call me Josie." Rick's mouth twitched at the corners, melding into a very real smile. I couldn't imagine he'd been smiling much since he'd woken up.

Seeing where this was heading, I cut in, "Look, we appreciate the offer, but we're not even from around here."

"Then it makes more sense that we stick together. I'm from here, I can help you get wherever you need to go, as soon as I find my family in Atlanta, there's meant to be some kind of refugee camp," said Rick. I glanced at the trees nervously, just in case spooks turned up. Where there were people, there were spooks. They'd smell us out eventually. Rick firing bullets would attract all sorts of wrong crowds sooner or later.

I wanted to say no. It would've been right to say no. He was a complete stranger, and even before the apocalypse, we were always told to stay away from strangers. But I had seen the worry in his eyes when he saved us from the spook- that he had wasted a bullet for us was a great act of kindness nowadays. If Josie and I continued alone, would we find that kindness anywhere else? I wasn't willing to bet my sister's life on that.

"Okay," I replied. Rick's eyes lit up. "but no further than that. We help you find your family, then you find us a car and the quickest way to Arkansas, and we're outta here." I couldn't believe I was agreeing to this, but if Rick was right about this refugee camp, then maybe I could snag supplies and some ammo before slipping away with Josie and a working car.

He explained his situation as we trekked along the road. After being shot on duty, the poor man had woken up in a hospital, alone and completely oblivious to the undead rising. His wife Lori was missing, as was his young son, Carl. Rick mentioned a man named Morgan, who had taken him in and helped him understand the world now.

"So, what, you just decided to pull up to Atlanta and find your family? In a big city?" I questioned him, eyebrows raised. His chances of finding them were slim, but even hinting at it caused Rick to go into full denial.

"Military would section off a perimeter. I have a friend, Shane. He'll do right by Lori and Carl; he'll get them to safety." he replied sternly. Under the shadow of his hat, his eyes were bold and filled with fire. I had no doubt in my mind that this man would walk through hordes to find the people he loved the most. It was something I could agree upon.

"You're relyin' on an awful lot of 'ifs' here man," I continued quickly before he could cut me off with his protests. "look, I'd want to hope my family was alive too if I was in your position. But you gotta leave room for the possibility-"

"No," Rick said, using his words like daggers, cutting my reasoning away from his impossible goal. "If I let doubt in my mind for even a second, they're as good as dead. You've got no idea what it's like, wakin' up to find everything you love is gone. You've got your daughter."

"Daughter?" My eyes widened in confusion before I realised he was talking about Josie. A short spark of laughter bubbled up. Rick continued to look completely lost. "no, no, she ain't my daughter. This is my sister."

"Awful young to be your sister." He pointed out. I supposed he had good reason to believe she was mine there. At twenty-six, having a sibling sixteen years younger than you was unusual. If only he knew I had three brothers, aged twelve, fifteen and my twin.

Or, at least, I used to.

The Georgia heat was killing me by the time we were on the back roads. Healthy green trees had passed us by, replaced by fields of yellowing grass and wheat. Rick managed to make out a house in the distance, standing alone against the picturesque scenery of a flourishing farmer's field, untouched by humanity and overgrowing. Aside from the occasional locusts buzzing, the fields were eerily silent. We approached the house with caution.

Rick edged towards the window and peered inside. Suddenly, without warning, he reared back, gagging, eyes wide in horror. I pressed my face against the glass to see what could have caused such disgust.

The family inside was dead. In the father's hand was a shotgun, the weapon that had killed all of them. Blood splattered the walls behind their gaping heads. Suicide. The cowardly move.

Seeing an opportunity, I retreated back to the porch, pulling Josie far away from the window. She didn't need to see this. Hell, I wished I could unsee it.

"What are you doing?" Rick asked. Too late, I had kicked the door open and entered the house, knife brandished and ready. It was silent.

A quick search of the gun by the dead man earned me some shotgun shells, as well as a pack of painkillers from his wife's pocket. I held my breath as the smell of rotting flesh and blood turned my stomach in knots. It was gross and wrong, but this was life.

Rick glared at me as I exited, motioning for Josie to follow me across the yard. "How can you just take things from dead people like that?" he questioned me.

I looked back at him, "They don't need it, we do. It's as simple as that."

"Well, it shouldn't be." he brushed past me and across to the fields.

In an enclosed paddock was a horse, clearly trapped there since the apocalypse began. As Rick approached it, I made sure to stay as far back as I could. I'd been around plenty of horses in Clarkesville and never liked them. The irony of a southern hick fearing horses was not lost on me.

"Hey, girl," Rick cooed, patting the horse gently. Its tail stopped flicking around as he held it close. "You think you can manage a ride into the city?"

"All of us? On one horse?" I asked, scanning it's back. Maybe we could fit, but it would be a damn tight squeeze.

"Josie's small enough to put in the middle of us."

"Okay," I replied uneasily, lifting Josie up as Rick climbed onto the horse. "as long as I'm at the back."

"You sure?"

"Not a big fan of horses; the further away I am from its mouth, the better," I admitted. He laughed and pulled Josie up behind him. Clearly uncomfortable with being so close to our new friend, I had to silently encourage her to hold on to his waist, which she did with disdain. I clambered up after her and prayed that the horse was well trained.

"I'll start slowly if it makes y'all feel a little safer," Rick called back. With a sharp tug, the horse began to walk along at a nervous pace. Finally, after nearly stumbling into a pole about twenty minutes down the road, the damn horse started to behave.

For now, I thought to myself. There was still a while to go until Atlanta.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

Even from a distance, I could see the city was in ruins. The further we ventured into the city, the less safe I felt. Everywhere I turned, I could see the corpses littering the ground. The horse began to sense danger too, as she veered away from a bus filled with corpses. As we rode past, I saw several exit the bus in the corner of my eye.

"Rick, we should go," I said, watching as other lurkers started to get up and follow us. Their snarling got louder and louder as more joined the fray.

"Not yet, the refugee centre could be in the middle of the city." he pulled on the reins, quickening the horse's pace to a stressful trot. We were going to fast in such a small space. Already, the trucks and cars around us were disappearing from sight too fast.

The sound of a helicopter surprised me. Rick and I looked up to see the reflection of it flying by a building. The horse broke out into a full run. My heart was pounding as I shouted for Rick to slow down. Our surroundings were a blur.

The snarling got louder and louder, overtaking the beating of my heart and the blood pulsing through my veins. We realised the snarls came from ahead too late as the horse rounded the corner, and straight into a waiting herd of walkers. There had to be hundreds of the undead bastards roaming around. Their heads twisted to look at us, eyes wide and completely lifeless, yet somehow shining with hunger.

The horse screamed as spooks dug into its flank, throwing us off the horse. I jumped to my feet and stabbed the closest spook with my hunting knife. More were advancing, though we were lucky enough that the horse seemed a tastier meal to most of them. Josie clung to me as I pulled Rick up and pushed through the gathering spooks. In front of us was a tank. Without warning, Rick dropped to the floor and began crawling under, grabbing Josie to pull her in. I followed behind them, pointing out the hatch on the underside.

It was a race against the spooks, and somehow, we won. Rick slammed the hatch on their greying hands as I threw myself as far away from the entrance as possible. As he worked on closing the top hatch, I let out a slew of curse words too sharp for even an adult's ears.

Josie screamed. The soldier beside me (the one I had stupidly assumed to be dead) groaned as he came to life, slowly reaching for me.

"Shut up." I spat, slamming my knife into his forehead until the hilt was pressed against his skin. The spook slumped sideways.

"We're alive." Rick breathed, pressing his head against the cool metal of the tank. I huffed.

"We're trapped here, officer," I explained. With the spooks surrounding us, even a person as small as Josie could slip her way out of the mess we were in. I had enough rations to last me and Josie for two weeks. With Rick added, we might not even last till the end of this week.

He closed his eyes, clutching his gun at his side like his life still depended on it. "You ain't from around here?"

"This is the time for a conversation? Like, right now?" I asked incredulously, eyebrows raised. The heat inside the tank was causing me to sweat more than normal, falling down my forehead in little droplets. I felt stupid for wondering if the white tank top I was wearing was see-through.

"If we're gonna be stuck here a while, I'd like to know more about the people I'm trapped with," he replied.

"We were s'posed to be visiting our Great Aunt- she was in the hospital," I began, copying Rick by resting against the walls. They were ice-cold, like someone had dunked my head in a bucket of water. "Came here from Arkansas, me, Josie, my brothers, and my parents."

"You a kid?" Rick's face paled.

"Hell no, I'm twenty-six. Me and my twin were Prom Babies." I stated, remembering how bad it sounded to folks who didn't live amongst communities like mine.

"Your twin? Where is she now?"

"He," I corrected. "and he's dead. So are my Momma and my old man and my other brothers." well, except maybe Macon. But if he wasn't dead already, he would be sooner or later.

Rick's eyes faded. Every sign of interest on his face slipped away, replaced with a look I knew all too well. Sympathy. As a graduate from a psychology course, I'd seen the looks of sympathy on people's faces during our observations. Well, I didn't want any damn sympathy.

The radio beside Rick crackled to life. I eyed it suspiciously, wondering who could possibly still be alive and well in this shit-show of a city.

Finally, after what felt like forever, a voice finally penetrated the static, "Hey, you idiots in the tank! Still alive in there?"

Rick seized the radio and spoke into it hurriedly, "Yes- yes, we're alive. Who are you?"

"Not important at this moment, man," the voice replied, breaking up every other second. It was hard to make out how old the person was, or how far away they were. "Listen, you haven't got long, so the sooner you get movin', the better."

"Where are we meant to go, huh?" I asked sharply. "There's damn spooks hangin' around this tank like vultures."

"They've gone to join the others feeding on your horse. I can see one geek on the tank, but you should be able to take him out no problem. I can guide you through the city to where me and my lot are hiding if you're fast." The radio static followed as whoever it was waited for an answer. I glanced at Rick, unsure if I could ask about his opinion out loud. This could be a trap waiting for us. Spooks were not the only enemy out in this world. I'd learned from experience that humans could do far worse things than any spook could think of.

Rick licked his lips and lifted the radio to them, "How do we know we can trust you?"

The radio remained silent. I thought it would never start again, until the man replied, "I guess you just gotta hope I'm a good guy."

Rick put the radio down and reloaded his gun. I withdrew my hunting knife and watched Josie copy. This plan was stupid. It was dangerous and we had no information, other than the guy on the radio. But at this moment, stuck in a tank with spooks ready to kill us, it was all we had.

"Where we goin' then? I picked up the radio, hoping whoever it was had stayed on the other side.

"There's an alleyway a little way down from where you're cooped up, a few geeks but it should be safer than trying any other main route. Good luck." the radio static died. I looked at Josie and Rick. This was it. Do or die. Rick pulled the shovel down from the tank roof and clutched it in his firm grip.

"Well," he spoke, staring up with steely eyes. "Let's go.”

Chapter Text

The second the tank hatch opened, the sound of growls got ten times louder. The man over the radio had been right; the only walker standing on the tank was quickly cut down with a sharp swipe from Rick's shovel. We hurried to clamber down from the tank, Josie gripping my hand so hard I thought she may break fingers. Other walkers had looked our way, now aware that fresh meat had made its way into the street.

Rick continued to take out walkers with his shovel, until one resilient female spook charged at him. Before I could yell out, he had already taken his gun and fired into her skull. The sound of the bullet leaving its nest echoed throughout the city blocks, ensuring every walker in Atlanta had just heard us, and been informed of where we were. Our time to escape had suddenly been cut short.

Aware that he had damned us no matter what, Rick continued shooting any walker that came our way. We eventually found the alley the man over the radio had said to go to and came face to face with a stranger.

"Wait, don't shoot!" he yelled, pulling down his head. Even though everything I had learned told me not to follow him and allowed the stranger to lead the way. He stopped halfway down the alley and started climbing up a set of old, rickety ladders. Rick pulled Josie up ahead of him, offering me a hand.

I climbed until the man stopped, already feeling a little sick. One thing I had never liked was heights, even as a little kid.

Stopping gave me the chance to properly look at the person we were following. He was Asian, with dark eyes and a baseball cap covering his hair. His face was round and youthful; the guy barely looked old enough to even be considered an adult.

Rick leaned over the side of the railing at the spooks swarming around the ladders, gnashing their teeth as they tried desperately to reach us.

"Can I ask, what the hell are you guys doing in Atlanta? Anyone with a brain knows this area is geek central." the young man panted, clutching his side as he wheezed.

"So why are you out here?" I retorted.

"I'm scavenging with a few others for our group," he answered, glancing between me and Rick. "My name's Glenn, by the way."

"I'm Rick Grimes," Rick stepped around me to shake the boy's hand. "This is Liz and her sister Josie."

"Sister?" I rolled my eyes as confusion flickered across Glenn's face. One day, I'd get through an hour without newcomers asking the same questions over and over again. Today, apparently, was not going to be it.

"Should we be heading somewhere?" I asked Glenn. We had been stood around too long for my liking.

"Yeah, right, follow me." we climbed further up the ladders and over rooftops. Glenn and Rick talked the entire way, though I found tuning them out was easy. As we climbed downward, and to the alleyway that apparently led to Glenn's group, we spotted two spooks standing by the landing we needed to pass. Shit.

Before Rick could raise his gun or my knife, two armoured men burst out carrying baseball bats. They knocked down the walkers and beat them until their brains spilled out over the tarmac. I decided to go first, hoping to find out how many there would be inside. Rick grabbed Josie and pulled her through the doorway they guarded.

As I stepped through the doorway, something blonde and angry tackled me. My blood froze when the woman put a gun to my face. Behind me, a small group of people were crowding the woman, attempting to convince her to put the gun down.

"The three of you know what kind of shit you've dropped us into?" the woman yelled. Her hands were shaking. I looked behind her and saw a dark-haired man place his large hand on her shoulder.

"Andrea, dammit, leave the girl alone!" he hissed. She knocked his hand away and pressed the gun against my forehead.

"You best do what he says." I warned her. Her finger had yet to even brush the trigger, which suggested fear. She didn't actually plan on shooting me. From the way she stood to the glint in her eyes, everything screamed panic. I'd have more than enough time to knock the gun away and smack this bitch.

"Or what?" Andrea challenged. I stood upright, forcing her to push back. The other two people behind her, a bald man and a black woman with short hair, begged her to drop it.

"Don't be dumb. You're not going to pull that trigger and the both of us know that. So put the damn gun down and get out my face." I snapped, pushing her hand aside. She let it drop limply, holding the gun downwards. Wordlessly, she backed off, glaring the entire time, like she planned to kill me with just her eyes.

Outside, I could hear the sounds of spooks getting closer and closer. There were mannequins and clothing racks all over the room we had found ourselves in. A department store. Big and spacious, and with glass doors perfect for spooks to break through. I could imagine how angry I'd have been if I were put into Andrea's shoes.

"The hell you think you two are playing at, huh?" the dark-haired man urged me and Rick further into the department store. "We got enough on our hands without some vatos causing us more problems than before."

"We're sorry, but we didn't realise there were more people here," Rick apologised, rubbing the back of his head. "We came lookin' for the refugee camp."

The black woman chuckled. "Refugee camp? There ain't no refugee camp- whole damn city was bombed the day we all tried to get here, nearly two months ago."

"Then where the hell did y'all come from?" I asked, not quite able to work out how such a relatively small group had lasted so long in such an overridden city.

"We've got people livin' by the quarry a while away from the city." the bald man answered. He hand removed his helmet and stood leaning against a jewellery stand. There was a warmth to his dark eyes, something that told me he had no intention to harm anyone. For now. It never stayed that way.

A muffled bang from upstairs made me jump, and Josie threw her arms around my legs. The group sighed almost simultaneously. I heard Andrea mutter under her breath, "Jesus Christ, is that Dixon?"

When it seemed that we had to follow them upstairs, I did so with great reluctance. This 'Dixon' person was firing from the rooftop, and the group's looks of disgust had not reassured me.

The man himself stood at the edge of the roof, sniper rifle in hand. He was much older than everyone else, with lines extending all over his face, like a map of age. He was bald, likely shaved to hide the grey, and wore a sleeveless shirt and jacket. From the moment he spoke, I knew what kind of person he was. Redneck. It seemed we came from similar territories within the South.

"This where y'all breathe down my neck for helpin' clear the streets?" he chuckled, leaping down from the rooftop and brandishing the rifle. The others backed up warily.

"We got enough problems to deal with, don't need you and your hick ass causing more." the bald man stated, holding his head high.

"T-Dog, man, don't." but T-Dog didn't listen. Merle laughed. Then, within the blink of an eye he smashed the butt of the rifle into T-Dog's face.

I yanked my knife from its holster and hid it behind my thigh. Rick shot me a warning look, which I chose to ignore. My eyes danced wildly across the rooftop as I watched Merle pin T-Dog to the floor, dropping the rifle in favour of a simple handgun, which he now pointed at T-Dog's face. Unlike Andrea, Merle had no problem placing his finger against the trigger.

"Now, I think a little power change is in order, huh?" he bellowed, waving the gun at the others. "maybe it's time we had someone proper in charge, instead of this anchor-baby and the nigger." It was like he hadn't even bothered to notice Rick, Josie and I lurking by the door. The other group members mumbled their agreement of Merle's plan, keeping quiet as Rick snuck up on him, grabbing the rifle Merle had so carelessly abandoned.

Merle only had time to turn his head before Rick slammed the butt of the gun into his nose, mimicking Merle's own attack on T-Dog. As Merle struggled to get up, Rick attached a set of handcuffs to his wrist, and then to the pipes of the rooftop. I walked over, biting my lip to hide the smirk I felt building as Merle writhed against the cuffs, spitting every curse word created by mankind.

I sat across from him and examined the radio by T-Dog's feet as Rick spoke with the dark-haired man. He introduced himself as Morales.

"Who are you exactly, cowboy?" Morales asked.

"I'm Rick Grimes, I'm from around here."

"And those two girls?" Morales pointed at us. I didn't bother paying attention and stayed fixated on Merle Dixon's bright red face.

"They're... not from around here."

"Well, then, Rick Grimes. Welcome back to Atlanta."

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

According to Andrea and Jacqui, the black woman stood by her, the streets below us were completely covered in spooks. They had surrounded our only exit into the main city, meaning we'd have to find another way back to their camp. I just wanted to get a car and take Josie back to Arkansas, where we belonged.

"So we have to find another way, or we're just gonna die here." Andrea slumped against the wall.

"We could try the radio again." T-Dog suggested.

"For what? More people to come down and get stuck here with us?" Andrea replied curtly. She brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears.

"Never mind the radio," Rick added, pacing the floor. He held Merle's rifle in his hands, a constant reminder to the redneck man. "We need a way outside of the city. Fast."

"Not to piss on your parade, but we barely made it into the city," I pointed out, tilting my head back to avoid the blazing heat. "could be a helluva bloodbath tryin' to leave it."

Merle, to my surprise, agreed with me. "Might wanna listen to the girl, y'all more likely to get ripped in half tryna get anywhere," he looked down at me, leering as his eyes flickered down to my chest. Sweat had finally won out, and the sheer fabric was embarrassingly useless. "reckon we've got a few hours to live sweetheart. Fancy showin' me a bit more of those tits of yours?"

"Make do with what you got, Merle, it's all you'll be seein' for a long time I bet," I cooed mockingly. He scowled, baring his teeth. "maybe your luck would be different if you weren't such an asshole."

"Now, hey, I ain't an asshole, I just know my place in this world." Around us, the others were making plans. From the faint snippets of conversation I caught, Jacqui had mentioned using the sewers as an escape route. I guess that put me on babysitting duty for Dixon and Josie. Wonderful.

Josie brought me our backpack as everyone headed downstairs. I rooted around inside and pulled out cereal bars, handing one to Josie. Merle grunted.

"You fancy passin' ole Merle one of those?" he asked, holding out a grubby hand. There was dirt under his torn fingernails. His hand was covered in calluses and covered in lines. If I'd had to guess, Merle was in his late forties, maybe pushing fifty.

"Not a chance." I replied, shoving the remaining bars into my bag. Merle's lips curled into a venomous sneer. As he struggled against the handcuffs that kept him in place, I turned my head towards a door that stood on the opposite side of the roof. I knew it didn't lead into the department store; the inside wasn't big enough to take up the space the entire roof encased. That meant another building was connected to it. If I could convince a few people to help me clear it for access, we could find a way out.

My only problem was Merle. I didn't have to know the guy long to know I didn't trust him. Rick had noticed it too, wiped the cocaine from his nose. A racist, junkie redneck. I didn't know how high Merle was, but was I willing to put my survival- Josie's survival, in hands like his? I didn't even trust the others we were stuck with.

The door leading to the department store swung open wildly as everyone sprinted onto the roof.

"What happened?" I asked, watching as T-Dog leaned over breathless, panting for air. When he finally gained it back in his lungs, he replied,

"Sewers are a dead end, man. We need another way, and fast. Them walkers broke through the first glass and it ain't gonna take long for them to get through the next."

"Then aren't ya'll lucky I may have a plan?" I stood up and asked Jacqui to follow me. "What's the building this door leads to?"

"An office block, I think. But we'd just be trapping ourselves all over again," she began to jog to keep up with me. As we reached the other side of the roof, I pointed down at the parking lot across the street. Because of its high hedgerows, the lot was mostly blocked from view of the main street, where most of the spooks had gathered. At the edge of the lot was a removal van. "Morales, you got your binoculars?"

"Yeah, Jacqui, they're right here," he answered. He joined us in looking over at the removal van. Pressing the binoculars to his eyes, I heard him mutter a prayer in Spanish.

"What the hell is going on?" Rick asked.

"The removal van- it's got keys in the ignition. There's a walker strapped into the front seat, must've turned before he could go anywhere." Morales answered him excitedly. The colour had returned to his cheeks.

"So what, we get to the parking lot somehow?" Andrea asked. The wind was blowing thin tendrils of her blonde hair everywhere. It had picked up, and I hoped that rain wouldn't follow. I hated the rain.

We returned to where Merle was shackled up, and I explained my idea to them. If Andrea and T-Dog came with me to clear the office, we could escape through there. Whilst we cleared a path, Rick and Jacqui would be moving heavy shelves to block the department store entrance, as Morales, Glenn and Josie acted as bait.

Josie's role, of course, was the one both Rick and Andrea attacked with unnecessary concern.

"She's a kid, are you crazy?" Rick asked me. I looked at him coldly, hiding my real fear behind the mask my brother had taught me to put up in front of strangers.

"She's fast and small. Josie knows what she's doin'." I stated, picking up my quiver from the rooftop floor. Josie nodded in agreement, her plaits bobbing in the breeze. I'd always admired her auburn hair, and freckled skin. I was pale for a woman who spent a lot of time in the sun, and my hair was lank and light brown. Her face was the picture of innocence, but people like Rick and Andrea couldn't even imagine the horrific things my sister and I had been through.

Rick looked like he wanted to continue to press the issue but decided against it. The worry was still in his eyes. I had no doubt that he would keep an extra close eye on her whilst I was clearing the office.

"What about me?" Merle called out, squinting to see us in the glaring sun.

Rick pulled the keys to the handcuffs from his pocket and dangled them. Merle was too dangerous to be let out now.

"I'll hold onto them," I said slowly, watching as the sun hit the silver of the metal, casting light in Rick's eyes. "When everyone else heads to the office, I'll stay behind to unlock the bastard."

We headed towards our given locations; me, Andrea and T-Dog to the office, and Rick, Jacqui, Glenn, Morales and Josie to the department store. Merle could burn to death up here for all I cared. He'd be fine, just a little whinier than before.

As the door shut behind us, I took my knife and began to bang it against the metal railing of the staircase. Even from the rooftop floor, I could hear faint growling. Whatever spook was lurking about wasn't too far down.

"So, what did you do before all this?" Andrea asked as we descended the stairs. The growling got louder.

"Nothin' much. Didn't have no job yet, only finished college a month before shit went south." I replied.

T-Dog's head whipped around, "you went to college?"

I shot him my most withering glare. He shrank back against the wall and lowered his head. I heard a tiny "sorry." as we kept walking. Still no signs of any walkers.

"Yes, I went to college, I took environmental psychology at Belmont in Tennessee." I prepared for the ridicule due to the irony of my subject expertise. My class, however, had not prepared us for the impending apocalypse where people would be mauled to death by the undead, only to come back as them.

I stopped Andrea from walking further when I spotted the figure hunkered over on all four, it's back to us. I whistled sharply, and the spook turned to us. It had half of a rat hanging from its mouth, dripping blood and guts. One of the spook's arms was missing from the elbow. As it advanced, I slowly sidestepped its greedy hand and sank my knife into its skull. The spook collapsed like a puppet with no strings.

Andrea recoiled, gagging at the smell. T-Dog took the initiative and copied my tactics, banging his gun against the rails.

We picked off three more walkers by the time we had scoured the whole building. I searched desks for supplies we could take, trying to ignore the family photos left abandoned on tables.

When we got to the rooftop, Rick and Jacqui were waiting.

"What took y'all so long?" Jacqui exclaimed, pulling T-Dog into a hug.

"Had to check the whole building out, we're good to go whenever," I said, brushing past them both to make my way downstairs. Andrea, T-Dog and I were to help the other three with bags. "the two of you should go on ahead, maybe keep an eye on the walkers going around the parking lot."

"Will do," Rick clapped his hand onto my shoulder and smiled at me reassuringly, flashing the cleanest teeth I'd seen in months. "be careful down there."

"You too." I replied and was surprised to find I meant it. Merle shouted for us to come back and help him, which nobody listened to. There was no use anyway, I had the only set of keys.

The walkers were pounding on the glass doors downstairs. All the shelves and racks had been moved carefully to block the archway to the staircase, which meant that it bought us more time to get out. T-Dog had also mentioned padlocking the rooftop door as we left.

T-Dog, Andrea and I held our positions at the archway, ready to start pulling down shelves when the walkers finally made it through. Get everyone to safety, padlock the door, uncuff Merle Dixon, and then get the hell outta here-

Josie screamed as the glass door shattered, sending spooks tumbling into the lobby. Glenn burst into full sprinting, dashing towards us, when he was suddenly yanked back. He yelped, panic freezing his body, before he noticed he was caught on a jewellery stand. He pulled himself free and ran, unaware that the stand had fallen right into the path of my sister and Morales.

"Shit," T-Dog yelled. Andrea grabbed Glenn by his backpack and hauled ass up the stairs, her part of the plan complete. I clenched T-Dog's arm and kept him in place. "Hey, we need to help them."

"We need to stick to the plan, dumbass, or we could all be screwed." I hissed. Did he not think my blood had run cold, watching my sister trip and fall over the stand? Josie, smaller and lighter than Morales, was the first up, dashing our way. My stomach dropped when I noticed the spook right behind her, having inched its way through a gap in our makeshift walls.

I pulled her into my arms and slashed the spook across the face. It stumbled backwards. Morales huffed as he fought his way in our direction, using a wooden board to smash spooks in the walls. He was limping. At the speed he was going, the walkers would be on us before we got the barriers down. We'd never make it.

Knowing what I had to do turned my blood to ice again. Closing my eyes, I gripped the shelves with unsteady hands, and brought down the whole barrier.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" T-Dog screamed.

The blood rushed through my ears, but it wasn't enough to drown out the sounds of Morales dying as he was ripped apart by the spooks. They bit into his throat, his hands, his chest. Bile rose in my throat. I pushed it down. There was nothing else I could've done.

Sensing T-Dog had no intention of moving, I pulled my gun and aimed it at him, flicking it in the direction of the stairs. He jogged by me, hands in the air, and led the way up. Josie was trying to mask her sniffling as she held back her terror-stricken sobs. She'd have to get used to this eventually.

"Padlock the door." I ordered T-Dog. Merle was the only one left on the rooftop and looked mighty scared. T-Dog shot me one last glance of disgust (and maybe hatred) and escaped through the office building. I let Josie follow him through.

"Come on, girlie, uncuff me already." Merle begged. There was no light-hearted humour in his voice this time. The usually mocking tone was laced with quivering fear.

My brain was in overdrive. On the one hand, I had promised Rick I would save Merle. On the other hand, no walkers could get the guy. And he was a danger. "Why?"

The final remnants of Merle's tough façade slipped away. His mouth contorted into an ugly distortion of anger and desperation. I stared at the key in my hand, overcome with pride that such a fragile metal trinket could have so much power over someone usually so proud.

I'd made up my mind. Hell, that was a lie. I had decided this before I had even watched him beg, maybe even from the moment I took the keys from Rick. This was an Us vs Them world, and to me, Merle wasn't Us.

I never even heard the keys drop as I threw them over the side of the rooftop. I never looked back either.

Everyone was waiting for me at the bottom of the office block. Rick mentioned that most of the walkers had wandered off to join the frenzy in the department store. The fact that they were all disturbingly okay with me meant that T-Dog hadn't mentioned Morales' death yet. They didn't even seem to notice Merle was gone.

When we ran towards the van, we had to take out spooks. I called the first one, a young woman dressed in stupid Sesame Street pyjamas. She fell with a groan as I swept her legs out from under her and jammed the knife into her skull.

Andrea and Rick worked in unison to unbuckle and take down the walker stuck in the van. Rick's well-placed knife killed the spook, whilst Andrea made quick work of getting him out.

"In, in, in!" Glenn yelled, throwing up the removal van's back. As we loaded up, I heard Jacqui ask about Merle.

"Don't worry about it." I reassured her. The van started driving as everyone exploded into questions. Where was Morales? Why hadn't I freed Merle? They were giving me a headache. I turned to say something to T-Dog.

Only to be met with the butt of a shotgun in my face, sending me cascading into the darkness.

Chapter Text

I was in a tent when I woke up. Or at least, I thought so. As I cracked open my eyes, I saw the orange fabric ceiling above me. There were voices coming from the other side of the tent.

I lifted my head slightly, squinting at them. One was Rick, the other a man I'd never met before. He was tall, and stocky, with thick dark hair, and tanned skin. His back was turned towards me, giving me time to look around the tent for my stuff.

Beside me was a bottle of water and next to it, tucked underneath a pair of pants, was a handgun. It wasn't mine, but it would do.

I lunged for the handgun. As my fingers wrapped around it, I heard the click of a rifle by my ear. Turning slowly, I found myself face to face with the barrel of a gun, held by the muscular stranger. He had a square jaw and dark eyes, with thick, bushy brows and a nose that had definitely been broken more than a few times.

The stranger focused the gun on me, jaw clenching. "Now, I would advise that you put that gun down real quick, ma'am."

I glanced quickly between the man and Rick. After a moment of considering whether the risk was worth it, I slowly placed the gun down.

Rick nodded his approval. His face was flushed with colour, like all the fear and anger he had felt hours ago had been washed away.

"Where's Josie? Is she okay?" I asked, glancing around the tent. My sister wasn't with me. The panic ate away at all other thoughts and emotions I had been feeling before then. I couldn't be away from her, what if something happened and I wasn't there to stop it? I could never forgive myself if I lost Josie. After Dad, Mom and our brothers, she was my only family.

"She's fine, Liz," Rick said reassuringly. "Shane, put the damn gun down, I told you she's okay."

"From what I hear she left two of ours to die and didn't bat an eyelid," Shane growled. He grasped the shotgun tighter in his hands. I felt sweat beginning to well up as I realised he was more than willing to kill me. In his mind, I had let his people suffer. I couldn't say I wouldn't have done the same. He looked me in the eyes, and asked, "So, can we trust you?"

I thought long and hard about that question. My lips had gone dry, my throat restricting itself from speaking words. It sucked, being on the other side of the gun, waiting for someone to decide if wasn't worth keeping me alive.

"No." I replied coldly. I looked him in the eyes as I said it. Shane's nostrils flared.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You heard me. No," I leaned forward, inches away from the end of his shotgun. One single, fluid movement and everything was over for me. "You shouldn't trust anyone."

Shane moved back, the cold metal of the gun barrel retreated. Behind him, Rick was red faced and furious. He looked at me incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. I was more than aware I hadn't given the answer either had expected. There was no use in being dishonest here.

An old man stepped inside the tent, casting me a glance filled with suspicion, but also worry. He was short and portly, with a flower adorned button-down shirt and pants that matched the floppy hat perched on his head. He raised one thick, bushy brow and leaned towards Rick and Shane. I pushed myself up onto my haunches, eager to hear what they had to say.

"So? Is she safe?" the old man questioned. Shane rubbed the back of his head.

"I dunno, man," Shane looked at Rick. "I know you say you trust her and all but honestly, she ain't given us no reason to do the same."

"Shane, I am telling you- this woman probably saved my life in Atlanta, her sister too," Rick gripped Shane by the shoulder. They were comfortable with each other, more than willing to invade one another's private space. I could tell right off the bat, these men had met before, at the least. Maybe they were closer, but who knew. "I'd have never made it back to Carl and Lori without them."

Lori and Carl. I didn't know why I was so happy to hear Rick had found them, but I was. It wasn't often men came back from near-death and were then reunited with their families amid the monsters tearing us all down. If anything, I envied him.

Shane ran his hands through his hair again and shouldered his gun. He cast one final, suspicious glance my way and sighed loudly, "Fine, but we have someone keeping eyes on her everywhere, alright? Bad enough we've got Ed rubbin' everyone the wrong way- and don't even get me started on the shit we gonna get from Daryl."

Two hands grabbed me by the arms and lifted me up, guiding me into the glare of the blazing sunlight outside. People milled around, occasionally glancing up from their chores to stare at me in confusion. I recognised one or two of them from the city.

I'd barely made it five minutes out of the tent when a short woman in a dress came charging at me. Shane stepped in front of me and gripped her in his arms as she burst into tears, shouting words I could barely comprehend, muted by her sobs. Behind her trailed two small children. My gut began to shrivel as everything began to click into place. These were Morales' children. This was Morales' wife. And here she was, stood face to face with the woman who had led her husband to his death. I could imagine that if she had had a gun, she would have shot me in an instant.

"Liz!" a small voice broke my concentration. Josie's little body crushed itself against me in a tight embrace. I wrapped my arms around her, blocking out the commotion caused by Shane and Morales' widow.

The old man in the fishing hat leaned over and whispered to me, "My advice? Take your sister and stay inside my R.V. until tonight. Might be best until Shane smooths things over."

I nodded in thanks and steered Josie in the direction of the R.V., careful to avoid the looks that had now turned to glares. Word had spread, it seemed, and now I was the stranger who had caused the deaths of at least one of their men.

That, at least, wasn't something I was new to.

Josie complained in the first few hours we spent hidden inside the small room. With nothing to do, I was able to convince her to read a book the old man had kept inside his kitchen. She was just a child, and as far as I was concerned, a ten-year-old should still be learning to read whenever she could. It was something my dad would have insisted on.

Rick opened the door to the R.V. when darkness had fallen. I had barely noticed it had turned to night until I glimpsed the blanket of stars behind him. He silently beckoned us to follow him.

Outside, a handful of dimly lit fires had been started, encased within small pits of stones and branches. Gripping Josie's small hand, I followed Rick to where he and his family sat. Shane and the old man were there, as well as Glenn, T-Dog, and Andrea. Beside Rick was a thin woman with dark hair and wide eyes. Her arms were around a small boy, maybe around Josie's age, who resembled Rick so much I couldn't deny he was the man's son. There were others too: a young blonde girl huddled next to Andrea, and behind them, a portly man hunched over his own fire. He and his wife and child were isolated from the others.

I sat down hesitantly, eyeing everyone around me. I couldn't imagine I'd made a great first impression.

"I was just finishing up telling everyone what happened before I met y'all-" Rick said to me.

"But now you're here," Shane interrupted him. His face was pale. "so, why don't you give us a bit more information about yourself."

"I'd rather not." I replied, hoping to shut down any conversation he wanted to have. I didn't like to talk about my family. The memories were too fresh, too raw.

"Look, you're a part of this group, whether you like that or not. A little trust would go a hell of a long way." Shane said. He used the heel of his boot to scrape dirt from his other shoe. I looked down, desperate to avoid eye contact.

"I already told you, you can't trust anyone," I straightened up, pushing my hair from my face as I looked around at the other survivors. They all leaned in, eager to hear more about me. "But if it makes you feel better, I ain't planning on sticking 'round here long."

"Where the hell do you plan on going?" Andrea spoke up.

"She's right," Shane agreed. "y'all could get yourselves killed out there. Best off stayin' here."

"I got other family back in Arkansas, man." I lied. There was nobody else now. But I couldn't stay here, with this many people. They might as well have rigged up a giant neon sign for the lurkers.

"Arkansas?" Shane whistled. "That's a hell of a trip even with a car- which we can't give you. You'd die before you even left Georgia."

"Then we'll risk it." I replied, gritting my teeth. I wasn't going to be held prisoner here.

"Holy shit, are you nuts?" T-Dog exclaimed. His neck was flushed, and his eyes burned with rage. I'd seen it simmering before, when I sat down, but it seemed it had finally been pushed too far. "man, this is bullshit, we're sitting here like you didn't do shit."

"T-Dog, man, not now-" Andrea warned him. T-Dog shook her comforting hand away.

"I saw you," T-Dog accused. His whole body shook. "you didn't even flinch when those geeks killed Morales. And Merle? What happened on that roof?"

The camp went quiet. You could almost hear people's minds turning, soaking up that information. In the midst of Rick's return from death, it was as if some of them had almost forgotten I was responsible for maybe two deaths.

"It was a death trap, T," Glenn chimed in, looking at me with wild, desperate eyes. "I mean, those walkers broke through and everything went to hell. Anyone would've panicked-"

"I didn't," I spoke up. I had to. Glenn was a good kid, but too naïve for his own good. I wasn't about to let the kid paint me as some scared woman who hadn't been given a choice. "Merle was a danger, he held a gun to people. I couldn't take the chance that he'd try it again," I looked up to what felt like a thousand faces of disgust and horror. Josie pressed herself tighter against me. "I pulled down the barricade and left one man to the walkers, then threw the keys to another man's freedom over the rooftop. That was all me. Don't expect me to feel bad about it, I did what I had to do to protect Josie."

"You may as well have murdered them, then," Andrea spat back. Her eyes were glossy. She swallowed the tremble of her lip. "God, I hated Merle, but he didn't deserve to die like that."

"Chances are he isn't dead." I answered.

"What? How could he not be dead, you just said-"

"I used the padlock to block the door. Walkers ain't gettin' through, meaning Merle is up there, alive." I ignored the gasps of shock, of horror, as they fully understood the underlying cruelty of my actions. I knew it as well as they did. It wouldn't get to me.

"And that's how you plan to spin it to Daryl?" the old man asked.

"Daryl?" I asked. I'd heard them mention him in the tent.

"Merle's brother." His answer shot me in the chest, point blank. Leaving behind a man was easy. Leaving behind someone's brother struck too close to home. Macon's face burned a hole in my brain, like someone had pushed a white-hot poker through my eyes.

I struggled to speak, my mouth had gone drier than the banks of desert riverbeds. When words finally flowed through my mouth, they were a harsh whisper. "Then I'll go back."

"You want to go back to Atlanta?"

"Are you actually insane?" the words came from every direction, so that I couldn't understand who said what.

"Maybe," I answered, to nobody in particular. Maybe to myself. "But if this, this Daryl, wants to look for his brother, then I suppose someone has to show him where." And he would want to look. I knew it, because I had wanted to look for my brother too. The one that was alive, that is.

"Look, I know Daryl's gonna be upset, but fact of the matter is, we can't spare the manpower trailing the city for a man who's likely dead." Shane said. I chuckled.

"So first ya'll gonna treat me like shit for leaving the bastard, and now none of y'all wanna save the man?" There was no answer. Rick looked at me thoughtfully, then turned to meet his wife's eyes. She shook her head lightly, nostrils flared. "forgive me if I can't understand y'all's idea of right and wrong here."

I'd had enough. It was dark, and Josie's baited breaths meant the poor kid was getting tired. I stood up, brushed dirt from my ass, and took the small girl back to our tent, which had been set up by someone unknown in the time we had spent cooped up inside the R.V. at some point. It was dug in further than the others. It told me the truth; we weren't as welcome here as Shane and Rick and the old man liked to tell us.

That was fine by me. I'd speak to this Daryl, get his asshole of a brother, then head out of Atlanta once and for all.

Somehow.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

I was woken by sunlight burning through my eyelids. It had slipped through the splitting seams of the tent, worn by age. I left Josie sleeping, and slipped out into the middle of the campsite.

Now that the dislike had died down, I could see the quarry survivors for the people they had become. The old man in the fishing hat sat atop the R.V. with a rifle in his hands. I spotted Rick in the distance, speaking to a small woman with a shaved head. He waved at me, prompting my hand to raise and do the same. He was a good man, Rick Grimes. Maybe a little too good.

"Hey," a woman's voice called from behind me. It was Andrea, and behind her was the other blonde woman. "Think you could give us a hand?"

"Uh, sure," I replied uneasily. "Andrea, right?"

"Yeah, and this is my sister, Amy," she replied. Amy smiled at me. Now that she had confirmed their relationship, I could see the resemblance. They had the same eyes, the same jaw. "We've been setting up tin cans around the trees to alert us to walkers. Wonderin' if you'd help us string 'em up."

"Can do." I answered. Tin cans seemed to be a tactic all sorts of people had picked up on. I could remember my mother setting them up along the outskirts of our camp. They hadn't helped.

I followed the two women into the woods. Amy blabbered on to Andrea about some weird mushrooms she had found in the woods a few days earlier. I couldn't help but smile. Their relationship reminded me so much of my brothers, Macon and Lucas. With an age difference of fifteen and twenty-six, they'd not had much in common. It had always been Lucas and I, as twins, that got along well. Macon was always too young for us, but too old for Hunter and Josie. I pitied the kid in that sense. It hadn't been his fault Mom and Dad had spaced out their kids so widely.

I was so in my head, thinking about my brothers and sister, that I didn't even realise the children screaming was happening in front of me until Andrea gripped my shoulder.

I raced through the woods. Josie was still in bed, thank Christ, but these other kids could be in danger. A little blonde girl swept past me and into the arms of another woman.

Andrea held back with Amy as I fumbled my way down into the clearing, where the men from camp had gathered. A walker sat crouched on the ground, tearing flesh from the neck of a felled deer. It noticed the gathering around it and must've figured humans made for a better meal. As it approached Rick, snarling, he smacked it with a shovel.

One by one, the men beat the walker down. It only stopped moving when the old man decapitated it. The head rolled to the ground.

"Couldn't have stepped in?" Shane asked, noticing me watching from the treeline. I shrugged nonchalantly. They seemed to have handled it.

There was a rustle in the bushes. Almost immediately, everyone got ready to spring back into action.

Instead, a living man emerged. He was scruffy-looking, with light brown hair and blue eyes. Those eyes locked onto the walker's body, then the deer's corpse, and turned into solid ice.

"Son of a bitch," he spat, kicking through the bushes to stop at the walker's body. He kicked it. Hard. "I'd been tracking this deer for miles!"

"Calm down, son." the old man reasoned. The young hunter squared up to him, as if on instinct.

"The hell you know about it!"

"Now, Daryl- hey," Shane warned, placing his hand between the old man and the hunter. My heart dropped to my stomach. This was Merle's brother. I'd never felt the urge to slink away from the scene of a crime, until now. How was anyone supposed to tell him his brother had been abandoned in Atlanta?

Daryl ripped his arrows from the deer. On the ground, the walker's head came to life, snarling and spitting. I hear Amy gag behind me, and then footsteps breaking the twigs as she and her sister walked away.

"Gotta aim for the head," Daryl muttered, aiming his bow. The bolt shot through the walker's forehead, killing it instantly. "don't ya'll know nothin'?"

He stalked off towards camp. Realising now was the best time to tell him the truth, I took a deep breath, and followed.

Chapter Text

Daryl stormed his way into camp, tossing a string of squirrels to the ground.

"Merle!" he shouted, weaving through the tents. "get your ugly ass out here!"

Others in camp had begun to gather by the R.V. to watch as Daryl looked around for his brother. I risked eye contact with Rick, who looked paler than earlier. He shook his head at me and whispered, "Not now."

To hell with that. It didn't matter if Daryl found out about what I'd done now or later. He was going to be furious, and if he was anything like his brother, then he was going to throw a few punches.

"Daryl," Shane called, catching up to the surly hunter. "Just a minute- we got somethin' to say."

Daryl paused, and looked at Shane with a glimmer of fear in his eyes. "

It about Merle?"

"Well... yeah."

"He dead?" Daryl asked. Shane rubbed the back of his head and looked back, staring at Rick and I pleadingly.

"He... look, it's better if we sit down and talk about it-" Shane tried to reason with him. But Daryl was aflame with rage now, angry and scared and I knew his only care right now was finding out if he had lost his brother. There was no way we could explain Merle's situation to his brother without violence, according to Shane.

"Is. He. Dead?" Daryl spat. Rick stupidly chose that moment to try and calm the situation.

"Your brother was a danger out there, to us and himself."

It only made Daryl worse. He turned on Rick like a cornered animal, snarling, "The hell y’all talking about?"

Rick sighed, realising there was no other way to go about it. I eyed Daryl nervously, and noted that Lori was keeping both my sister and Carl as far back as possible.

"I handcuffed your brother to a roof and... and he's still there." I felt my neck twist as I whipped around to look at Rick. Why was he taking the fall for this? It had been my fault Merle was left on that rooftop, and I'd own up to it anytime.

Daryl wiped his eyes, destroying the evidence of his tears. His hands were shaking, whether with anger or grief, I couldn't tell. "You handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you LEFT HIM THERE?!"

"It was a panic, the walkers were in-" As soon as Rick started, I cut him off. He looked at me pleadingly. I shook my head and stepped towards Daryl. Straightening my back, I looked him in the eyes.

"Your brother was gonna get us killed. So I threw the key over the rooftop. It wasn't no accident, there weren't no panic about it. I even padlocked the door so the roamers couldn't get at him." I admitted. The lack of compassion or pity in my voice surprised even me.

Daryl's murderous expression faltered. The pain threatened to break through his steely exterior, glimmering in the cracks on the surface of his face. For a good moment, I got a glimpse of the real man beneath the hardened hunter. Recognised it, even.

The broken mask healed itself, and Daryl lunged. I flinched, but Shane and Rick were on him quicker than I'd anticipated they would be. His body hit the ground with a dull thump as Shane held him down.

"Listen to me- hey!" Rick knelt down and looked Daryl in the eyes. "Your brother does not play well with others. Now, I don't agree with the way it went down but it's too late now. Only thing we can do is go back and get him."

Daryl's eyes never left mine. They glared with such an intensity I was surprised I didn't drop dead on the spot.

"We?" Lori asked. Her eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe. She and Rick exchanged looks, and the silent war between husband and wife began. I could see where Lori was coming from. Her husband had been in a coma for the whole apocalypse, presumed dead. Her son had just gotten his father back.

Shane let Daryl go, and the hunter stormed off towards his tent. With a long-withheld sigh of a man already tired, Rick went the other way, with Shane not far behind him.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna walk off? Just to hell with everybody else?" Shane snapped. Everyone began to settle back into their routines. I glanced at Lori as she wiped a stray tear from her eyes and led Carl to sit by the fire. Josie looked at me worriedly, like she expected me to disappear at any moment. Unfortunately for her, I would soon. Letting Daryl and Rick travel into Atlanta alone would be a death trap. Not all of us had made it out last time.

I walked off after Daryl, who had returned to sit by the smouldering campfire. He glanced up as I came his way, his upper lip pulled back into the beginning of a snarl.

"I'm comin' with you." I said. He grunted.

"The hell you are. You're the reason he's up there, said it yourself."

"All the more reason to come with you." I shot back.

He went silent, glancing down at the bolts he was cleaning for his crossbow.

Rick returned, Shane in tow. Lori glanced between the two. They were clearly arguing about Rick's decision to return to Atlanta with Daryl.

"...Lori least of all. Tell her that." Shane snapped.

"She knows." Rick replied, annoyance shadowing his face. I looked at his son, Carl, who was glancing between Rick and Shane like it was a tennis match.

"Well, look, I... I don't, okay, Rick? So could you just... Could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why?" Shane rubbed his head, "Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey, choose your words more carefully." Daryl growled, looking up from his arrows to glower at Shane.

"No, I did. Douche bag's what I meant. Merle Dixon...The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst... me. Thirst and exposure." Rick leaned in to look at Shane, and hissed, "We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." I ignored the blatant remark he had thrown my way. I couldn't ignore Daryl's heated glare.

Lori sided with Shane. "So you, her and Daryl, that's your big plan?"

"'Her' has a name." I responded quickly. She frowned again, a facial expression she seemed used to making. Rick ignored my comment and turned around to Glenn with pleading eyes.

"Oh, come on." Glenn moaned, pulling his hat further onto his head, as if it could swallow him whole.

Rick tried reasoning with him. "You know the way. You've been there before... In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask... I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too." Glenn nodded glumly.

"Me too," T-Dog stepped in. Shane and I huffed simultaneously. The last thing I needed was T-Dog's distrusting ass to be following me around Atlanta. Daryl already hated me, I hadn't anticipated two of them going.

"So that's five people going, huh?" Shane paced the dirt path, scuffing his boots against the stray rocks littering the ground. "That's five less able bodies if the dead come our way."

"You've camped high up in the quarry, lotta trees around you," I looked around at the quarry's stone walls, further down. "Sound echoes just fine, if the dead come lookin', y'all should hear 'em."

"And that makes everything better?" Shane shot back. I pursed my lips to stop them from morphing into a vicious snarl.

"You think I wanna trek four other people into a walker zone with me? Hell no, but I ain't gonna sit on my ass and complain about it," I shouldered my bow, and shrugged. "shit happens. Deal with it or die."

I walked towards the van, leaving Shane and Rick to bicker like an old married couple on their own. Rick's personal life wasn't my business.

Josie followed after me. She hugged me tightly.

"Why can't I come with you?" she asked, eyes wide and pleading. I sighed, kneeling down. The dirt clung to my pants as my knees hit solid ground.

"We don't know these people, and I don't want you getting hurt. Merle's gonna be pissed- at me most of all," I patted her cheek gently. "You just stay with Rick's wife and her kid and you'll be fine."

"You promise?"

"Of course." I forced a smile onto my face, holding it still for as long as possible as she smiled back and returned to the centre of camp. The kid had been through enough already, and I wasn't walking her into a dangerous area when I knew she could be safe. I didn't know Lori, but I knew Rick, and if she was anything like him, Josie would be safe.

I watched Rick intently as he finished huddling with Shane and walked to the R.V., where the old man and a weedy guy sat.

"You gettin' in or what?" I jumped at Daryl's gruff voice. He stood above me, hovering by the van, as if waiting for me to enter first.

"Uh, yeah." I muttered, clambering inside.

Daryl watched me while I made myself comfortable in the back of the truck; I'd reclaimed my weapons, and my bow sat proudly next to me, my prize possession. I met his stare for a moment. "What? I got something on mah nose or something?"

"Didn't realise you had a kid." he answered, tilting his head in the direction of the camp. I snorted.

"I don't."

"Sister?"

"Yup. seventeen-year difference." He just 'hmphed in response and swung himself into the front seats, pressing his foot into the car horn. Rick and T-Dog jumped and spun to face the truck.

"Come on, let's go!" T-Dog and Glenn jumped inside and sat next to Daryl- and the furthest away from me. Daryl moved to the floor opposite T-Dog and continued to glower at him. "This don't make us any friendlier than we were before."

"What the hell is Rick doing?" Glenn asked impatiently, wiping dirt from his pants. I peered around the truck doors and answered Glenn's question.

"Talkin' to his friend. Never mind, he's coming over." The truck door slammed shut as Rick started the engine. The last thing I saw before I closed the van were the crestfallen faces of the other survivors, unsure of whether we would be back. I had every reason to believe that if I was lost, they wouldn't be too concerned.

Awkward silence was the only thing I could hear. As the van pulled out of the quarry and onto the derelict highway into the city, I wondered which way we'd be getting to the rooftop. My stomach crushed itself into nothing when I realised the easiest way to get to Merle was through the department store- and past the barricade.

"He'd better be okay." Daryl's eyes bore into T-Dog, who rolled his eyes.

"Liz," T-Dog spat my name with venom, "said that she padlocked the door, made sure he didn't get torn apart. So unless there's another way in for them-"

"The other door." I jumped in, mentally cursing myself for adding that doubt.

"What?"

"The roof door leading to the office building. We didn't block that." T-Dog's face drained of blood as I explained. If he could have sank lower into the floor, I fully believed he would have.

Whatever colour that had left T-Dog had flooded into Daryl instead. He balled his hands into fists and smacked the side of the truck. Glenn mumbled "Oh no" over and over again. "T, we left the office doors open. Any walker could just stroll in."

"So let's hurry it up!" Daryl snapped.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I'd rather not crash into anything." Rick shouted from the front. The van was moving through buildings and abandoned cars, they passed by the front window like a movie that should never be real. T-Dog put his head in his hands and groaned to himself. I decided that retying my hair was the most important thing I could do right now. It was easier to avoid looking at Daryl this way, to avoid that possibility of guilt, that realisation that I had caused this. Daryl who was shaking and had a knife strapped to his waist.

Glenn's small voice caught my attention once he used my full name. "Hey uh, Elizabeth-"

"Liz."

"Sorry. What's that behind your ear." Great. Everyone had turned to look at me. I seriously considered letting my hair down again. "It is a tattoo?" I guess I had no choice. I shifted around to show the four curious men the tattoo behind my left ear; I'd gotten the three black bird silhouettes when I was twenty-three.

"Yeah." I answered.

"It's cool." Glenn smiled awkwardly, like he didn't quite know how to speak to me in a way that was normal, or human.

"Thanks."

"Why'd ya get it?" Daryl's questioned gruffly. It was the first time he'd been willing to talk about anything except Merle. Chose a real nice time to join in.

"Do I need a reason? Maybe I just liked the tattoo." To my surprise, he shook his head.

"Nah. S'behind ya ear. Most people get a tattoo that people will see, ya didn't. Somethin' behind the ear is personal." I almost forgot how to speak for what felt like hours. Smart bastard.

' Well, Daryl Dixon ' I pursed my lips, and turned away. He waited for an answer he wasn't getting. ' Guess you're smarter than people give you credit for '.

The truck stopped just outside of the city limits, where it would be left until we got back. It was too dangerous to drive a truck into the middle of walker-central, we'd be swarmed before we stepped outside.

T-Dog carried the bolt cutters with him; he had yet to gain the colour in his face again. I didn't know what would be worse: finding Merle alive and pissed, or finding his remains still chained to the pipe, maybe dead, maybe undead. Either, one Dixon brother was going to be hellbent on making everybody else pay for it. And as the sole reason we had returned for Merle, I was the big red target at the centre of the bullseye.

Rick spoke for the first time since we left. We cut through a fence and entered the official area of the city. "Merle first or guns?"

"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation." Daryl burst through the fence and began walking. Rick hurried forwards, stopping Daryl from moving anywhere else. The hunter snarled, backing up, fists clenched and readied.

"Makes no sense to run around aimlessly," I said. "if the guns are closer, we may need 'em."

"Thank you," Rick placed his hands on his hips. "Glenn?"

"Merle is closer, grabbing the guns first means going in circles."

"Then it's settled, Merle first." Rick broke into a jog, and we followed.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

We encountered very few spooks, it seemed they had all disappeared. Paranoia kicked in like a knife to the gut and I had an arrow nocked the entire route, pointing the bow into the darkest corners or alleyways, keeping my eye out for lurkers. For a moment, I thought I saw a figure hiding down an alleyway, but they disappeared when I looked away to tell Rick. Disappearing figures usually weren't spooks; they were usually living people. I'd encountered living people, and not all had offered me a ride into Atlanta and a place to stay.

The department store was empty from the outside view. I could see T-Dog was watching me from the corner of my eye. He was waiting for me to acknowledge what we were walking into. The chances of finding Morales' body was high.

Daryl stepped through the broken glass first and signalled for us to crouch down. Walkers.

Ahead, there was a woman swaying on the spot, her hands chewed to the bone. Faint snarls were audible from just next to the barrier. I prayed it was just random walkers.

The female spook turned and growled at Daryl as he quickly approached her. "Damn. You are one ugly skank." he mumbled. Thunk! She fell, his crossbow bolt lodged in her forehead.

I crept behind the counters and stepped over the fallen jewellery stand as quietly as possible. Behind me, T-Dog choked up. I felt guilt that I wasn't doing the same.

Three walkers were crouched over the bloody and shredded remains of Morales. I could see his shirt hanging off the bones of his arms and shoulders. Nothing else remained. With the number of walkers that had been through here, they'd jumped on him like vultures, taking away everything until all that was left was the inedible parts.

Daryl landed a bolt into the head of one, and Rick took care of the other two with a hatchet. While everyone else lingered by the fallen stand, I moved towards the remains of Morales. What was left breathed life. His eyes were white and veiny, hands twisting into alien shapes as he tried in vain to lift his skeletal figure. Taking the knife from my pack, I plunged it into his forehead and watched his body slump.

Glenn pulled T-Dog back as I ripped the remains of the barricade down, pulling them on top of Morales' corpse. A path was cleared. Rick, Glenn and T-Dog were paler than ever, and looked sick. Disgust shone in their eyes. I looked at them and steadied myself. "We need to go."

Daryl was the first to move, running up the stairs shouting for his brother. I was almost out of breath and wheezing by the time I reached the top. Had they always been that long?

"Merle! Merle!" Daryl roared, leaping from step to step. T-Dog pushed the bolt cutters through the door and snapped the padlock on the other side, and the chain for good measure. Daryl wasted no time; he kicked the door wide open and rushed down to the pipes where Rick had cuffed Merle. There was no wind on the rooftops. No walkers groaning.

And no Merle.

"No!" Daryl's voice cracked with agony. He leapt from the platform. "No!"

I could've thrown up. I wanted to throw up. Liquids sloshed around my stomach. My eyes refused to believe what I was seeing.

Lying there, on the ground, still and fresh, was Merle's severed hand.

Daryl unleashed a final cry, and it echoed his rage and hurt across the city. I anticipated his turning on me, pulling his crossbow and aiming it at my head. As it met my eyes, my knife appeared under his chin, resting against the skin of his throat.

Rick's gun went up. He looked at both of us, a hint of cold steel flashed in his eyes. "Drop the weapons, we don't need this, not now," When neither of us looked ready to comply, he continued, "Merle could still be out there, we're wasting time playing the blame game."

"She left him here in the first place." Daryl growled. His finger brushed the trigger and my heart jumped in my throat.

"And now she's trying to help you get him back," Rick turned the gun against Daryl. "I'm not gonna hesitate. Especially if it means I don't get back to my family."

Daryl, realising he was serious, lowered the crossbow. T-Dog breathed heavily, muttering prayers to the sky. Daryl's mood shifted from anger like a calming sea. He wiped his eyes as he turned back to Merle's severed hand and plucked it from the ground by the fingers. Blood and fluids dripped from the edges of the hand. My stomach flopped over, and I had to lean over the side of the roof, gagging. I vomited and closed my eyes to avoid seeing it hit the floor.

"Jesus. Yuck." Glenn veered out of my path as I wiped dribble from my lips. Yuck indeed.

"You got a do-rag or something?" Daryl mumbled, keeping his eyes down. T-Dog handed him a blue cloth, and Daryl wrapped the hand in it; it was then shoved into a grimacing Glenn's backpack. "I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs. Ain't that a bitch. He must have used a tourniquet... maybe his belt. Be much more blood if he didn't." He'd hacked through his own hand. I suddenly felt the urge to vomit again.

A trail of blood lead through to the opposite roof door. It had yet to dry up properly, and still shone in the sunlight. He hadn't been gone long, with the warm weather, he had to have started cutting maybe just before we left the campsite. When I voiced this to Daryl, his temper exploded again. "Maybe if we'd just left earlier like I said-"

"Daryl..." Rick warned.

"Don't Daryl me! Screw all y'all, my brother got left behind, and y'all did nothin'" He slammed open the door and took the stairs two at a time "Merle? You in here? Merle!"

"We're not alone here. Remember?" Rick's advice fell on deaf ears. Daryl continued to yell for his brother.

One of the doors had been opened in the hall, a walker lay on the floor with its head smashed open. Its blood was still dripping from the wound. The room was a small kitchen space for workers, and the first thing I noticed was an iron resting on top of a stove, with something stuck to the underside.

I placed my hand just above the stove top. Still hot. Rick cleared his throat behind me; I swallowed and told him what I thought. "He used this. Not long ago either. Iron's still hot too."

"What's that burned stuff?" T-Dog asked. There were browning flakes all over the stove top, accompanied with small pools of blood here and there.

Rick picked a piece up and winced. "Skin. He cauterized the stump." Uck. I had to hand it to him, I'd have just died instead. I'd never had the courage to do shit like that. Even ripping a bandaid off as a child had been too much for me.

"Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle." Daryl crowed proudly, spirits slightly lifted as he looked at Merle's handiwork.

"Won't stop him from getting torn to pieces if he keeps going like that." I added. Daryl's face fell back into his trademark scowl.

Rick led the way down the hall and further into uncharted territory. Glass shards littered the floor beside a broken window, though most of the glass lay outside on the fire escape. More blood was on the carpet; tiny, bright red droplets that were fresh, like they'd been there for only half an hour, maybe less. They seeped out of the window, dripping from the iron grate of the fire escape onto the streets.

"He left." I said, stunned. I'd taken Merle for an ignorant man, not a stupid one. He wouldn't last long out there in the condition he was in.

"What? You think he was gonna wait around till y'all came back, have a holiday in here?" Daryl sneered. I knew that tone too well. He was mocking us because it helped hide the fact that Merle's disappearance- and possible death- was hurting him. Daryl struck me as someone who wasn't used to having so many emotions thrust upon him. Quick to anger, but he was quiet otherwise, from what I had seen. His brother, not so much.

In that moment of anger, Daryl stupidly moved to slip out the window. Rick pulled him by his shoulder and lightly moved him away from the window. Daryl flinched back and slapped the man's hand away. "Get your hands off me! You can't stop me."

"I am," Rick disputed, "especially if you're only gonna get yourself killed. Now, we can find Merle and get those guns, but I need you to be with me the whole way," he held Daryl's gaze. "Are you with me?"

Daryl licked his lips, pulling them tight against his teeth to prevent himself from snapping back. "Yeah."

"Okay," Rick sighed in relief, the weight dropping from his shoulders. "Glenn, we need a plan here. I saw a map on the desk over there."

Glenn raced to grab the map and threw it onto the table. He swallowed nervously and spoke, "I already have an idea."

"Why do I already dislike this idea?" T-Dog buried his head in his hands.

"Look, I'm the fastest here, we all know that," Glenn reasoned. "I can run out, grab the bag and be gone."

"You're not doing this alone." Rick said.

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much." Daryl agreed, leaning against the desk and tracing the routes with his finger.

"Look. That's the tank, five blocks from where we are now." Glenn placed more things on the map. "That's the bag of guns. Here's the alley I dragged Rick into when we first met. That's where Daryl, Liz and I will go."

"Why me?" Daryl asked. I was fine with that, as long as I wasn't put into a group with T-Dog. The relief on his face told me he felt the same.

"Your crossbow and her bow are quieter than Rick's gun. While Daryl and Liz wait here in the alley, I run up the street, grab the bag."

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick asked.

"You and T-Dog, right. You'll be in this alley here."

"Two blocks away? Why?"

"I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won't go back to Daryl. I'll go forward instead, all the way around to that alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me. Afterwards, we'll all meet back here." Now that it had been explained, Glenn's plan actually made sense. I locked eyes with Rick, and he nodded in silent agreement. As far as plans went, I couldn't see any way it could get most of us killed.

"Hey, kid, what'd you do before all this?" Glenn looked at Daryl and replied,

"Delivered pizzas. Why?"

"Nothin'" Daryl replied. I hoisted my backpack over my shoulders, used to the weight of the supplies I carried inside it. The majority was food and ammo, though I'd also stashed a hatchet in there just in case.

Rick and T-Dog veered off from our course, and went to their allocated area, while Glenn, Daryl and I swerved into the grimy alleyway. Two large trash skips made for a perfect hiding spot; Daryl crouched in one end, and I took the other. Glenn peered out from the middle to check if the street was clear.

"You got some balls for a Chinaman." Daryl remarked.

Glenn frowned and turned his head. "I'm Korean."

"Whatever."

Once Glenn was out of sight, Daryl became silent, choosing to ignore me. "Hey, Daryl." I began.

"What?" he replied gravelly.

"You were right by the way."

"Bout what?" He asked. His eyes held a genuine curiosity.

"The tattoo. It is personal. So congrats, Sherlock." I admitted. The faint ghost of a smile danced across his face; but the sound of light footsteps from the far end of the alley pulled the spectre of emotion from my view. The footsteps didn't sound like walkers, there was none of the shuffling or groans that usually accompanied a spook.

Daryl leapt to his feet before I could, aiming the crossbow directly at the head of some kid. He could have only been about nineteen, maybe younger, dressed in jeans and a white undershirt. His eyes widened when he finally realised two weapons were being pointed at him by two very real people. "Whoa, don't shoot me! What do you want?"

"I'm looking for my brother. He's hurt real bad. You seen him?" Daryl questioned the boy.

"Ayúdame!" The kid began to yell. My Spanish was real rough, given that I'd been twelve when I'd last learned it, but I knew enough to understand what the kid was saying. There were others, here, in the area. And Glenn was out there with no way of knowing.

"Shut up! You're gonna bring the geeks down on us. Answer me." Daryl hissed through his teeth. The kid just continued to call for help, backing away from the two of us. From behind the fence, walkers were growing in numbers.

The little punk continued to cry out. "Ayúdame! Ayúdame! Ayúdame!" Daryl finally snapped, knocking the kid to the ground and aiming a well-placed kick.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw two burly men sprint around the corner. Before I had a chance to warn Daryl, they bowled him over, kicking him repeatedly. I tried to pull the smaller guy off of him, but all I got was a blow to the face. Burning pain exploded in my jaw like the man had lit a match under it.

Of course, Glenn arrived with the bag and Rick's hat just then. The bigger man turned around and shouted to his friends. "That's it. That's the bag, Vato. Take it! Take it!" The small guy ran for the gate, but I managed to grab his legs and pull him down. His bigger friend leapt over him and forced a yelling Glenn into the car. The bag flew against the wall and lay abandoned.

"Get off me! Get off me! Daryl! Daryl!" Glenn's face disappeared behind a door as it slammed shut. The smaller guy held me against the wall with one hand after recovering, the do rag around his head had fallen around his neck.

I was able to wrestle my knife out of its leg strap. I couldn't hesitate, I only had one chance.

I thrust the knife up, quick and fast. His neck opened up under its sharp blade, he gurgled, eyes wide. I pulled the knife sideways; in the background, Rick and T-Dog had stopped Daryl from beating the kid and were trying to restrain him.

Thick hot blood poured over my hands and chest, slipping under my tank top. Disgusting. I pulled the knife out and left him to spasm on the floor, his hands useless to stop the blood flow.

"Jorge! You little puta, you've killed him!" The kid was screeching at the top of his lungs. The number of walkers flocking to the gates increased, the entire chain link fence was shaking.

"They- they took Glenn." Daryl stumbled over his words, staring down at the dead man spilling blood on the floor behind me. My throat felt like it was on fire, and I had to cough violently. There would be a red mark around my neck if I looked into a mirror.

Rick and T-Dog looked at me like I was a different person. Then, without a word, Rick gripped the kid and dragged him away, T-Dog right behind him.

Daryl looked at me, taking note of my bloodied lips from scraping the floor, and the bruise forming on my face, before commenting. "C'mon. We're gettin' Glenn back."

Chapter Text

"You're gonna start talking, so make it quick." I demanded, clenching the boy's jaw tightly. He whimpered, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. My hands were still dripping with the blood of his friend, streaking across his face like fresh paint. Nobody had spoken to me since we came back to the building. Glenn was missing and I had all but confirmed I was a killer in their eyes. Never mind that it had been in self-defence.

"You think I'm gonna tell you shit, perra?" the kid spat. "You killed my friend."

"Listen, kid." His head snapped up to stare at me; fear clouding every feature. It was understandable, he'd just witnessed me open up his friend's throat. "Your friends have already lost one person, you wanna make it two?"

"Liz..."

"Don't, Rick," I snapped. Rick backed off, pursing his lips. I turned back to the boy. "kid, you got a chance to get back to your group. Way I see it, your friend Jorge tried to kill me first, it was self-defense."

"You lying-"

"Shut up. Now, we could sit 'round here, and maybe you don't get fed to lurkers. Or, you could take us to your friends, and maybe you walk away alive. Your choice." When I was finished, the boy looked at me like I was a madwoman. I walked away, back to the other three. Both Rick and T-Dog glanced down at my bloodied hands with disgust. Daryl said nothing, just averted his eyes and tossed me a wet cloth. I wiped the blood from my body and mumbled my thanks. He said nothing.

"What the hell happened back there?" Needled Rick.

"Kid and his buddies jumped us!" Daryl replied, face reddening. He jabbed an accusing finger at the boy. "One of them got away with Glenn."

"You're the one who jumped me, yelling about some brother." The kid shouted from his side of the room.

"Shut up!" Daryl yelled back, "figured y'all could've taken Merle too."

"G ain't in the habit of kidnapping hicks and Asians, puto." The kid goaded. He was stupid, trying to get a rise out of Daryl. And now he'd given away information he'd tried so hard to withhold.

Rick latched onto his words and moved faster than I'd ever seen. He kneeled in front of the kid.

"Who's G?" he appealed to the boy. Understanding that he had dropped himself into our hands, the boy sighed.

"He's the one who sent us to get the bag." He admitted. Rick held the duffel bag to the boy's face.

"This bag?" Rick asked, smiling. He stood up and withdrew his knife, untying the boy. I shook my head at Daryl as he opened his mouth to protest. "seems to me like the only way this is going your way is if we meet this G."

The kid didn't speak. He couldn't argue against Rick; the man was right.

Finally, common sense seemed to set in. "Alright, alright. I'll take you to G, but we got bigger numbers than you, so don't try anything."

Rick pulled the kid up and pushed him to T-Dog. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere and keep Daryl away from him. Liz, a minute?"

Rick moved towards me as Daryl and T-Dog kept a steady glare on the kid. Wordlessly, Rick took the damp cloth from my hand and pressed it against my bottom lip. I felt a stinging in the wound and hissed.

"Can't leave that gravel in the cut, you'll end up with an infection." He mumbled, dabbing at my lip again.

"Thanks," I replied. "Look, what happened in the alleyway- I didn't have a choice."

He studied me for a moment, cornflower blue eyes squinting in the dusty rays of sunlight. Finally, he conceded, "Daryl says the guy attacked you, did... that," Rick gestured to the light-yellow bruising around the right side of my neck. "If you say you had no choice, I'm willing to believe that."

"It don't matter, me and Josie'll be outta your hair soon anyway, the minute we got a car and some gas." I replied. Rick's face, to my surprise, fell.

"You think I want you to go? I don't agree with the way you do things- let me make that clear, but I trust you."

I'd never met a man quite so forgiving as Rick. A police officer who had forgiven me for killing somebody, it couldn't have happened before the lurkers became a thing.

I followed behind Rick and T-Dog as they allowed the kid to lead us to his group. His hands had been re-tied together, just in case he tried to make a run for it. I wasn't sure I could shoot down a teenager if he escaped. His snarky attitude reminded me of my brother, Macon.

We travelled further and further towards the outer buildings of Atlanta. I noted that we were awfully close to where our van was parked. If this went to shit, it gave us a chance to escape quickly and without getting hurt, either by lurkers or humans.

"It's just through here." The kid tilted his head towards a chain link fence that lead to a large building. Someone strolled across the rooftop, holding a large gun.

"You sure you're up for this?" Rick asked T-Dog. T-Dog swallowed and held up his gun, nodding reluctantly.

"Yeah."

"Okay." T-Dog walked off to go do his part; Rick made himself busy cutting open the fence with the bolt cutters. The kid cursed and hissed as his shirt and arms were scratched and caught on the fence.

"One wrong move, you get an arrow in the ass." Daryl warned him, shoving the crossbow into his back to force the kid to walk. "Just so you know."

"G's gonna take that arrow out of my ass and shove it up yours. Just so you know." the boy swore, yelping as I clipped him across the ear. He was a stupidly brave kid to start acting up right before we traded his ass.

The door swung open after a few minutes of waiting; nine men stalked out, the majority of them burly and carrying guns. The man in the middle of them was neither burly or carrying a weapon. Unlike the rest, however, he had an air of arrogance. I assumed that this was G. His eyes darted between Rick, Daryl and me; they lingered on my blood-stained hands for a moment before he spoke to the kid. "You okay, little man?"

"They're crazy, man! They're killers."

"Cops do that?" G asked, eyeballing Rick with an amazed expression.

"It's this bitch, G, she killed Jorge, cut his throat like it weren't nothing."

"Continue with that little bitch attitude and it'll be you I'm gutting next." I warned him. Guillermo held his hand up to stop his men from raising their weapons towards me.

Rick's face was pale as paper. He squared his jaw. "We were hoping more for a calm discussion."

"Those hillbillies jump Felipe's little cousin, beat on him, kill one of my men and you expect this to go calmly? What kinda cop are you?" G asked accusatively.

"She says your boy tried to kill her." Rick disagreed.

"That don't bring Jorge back," G fumed, stepping forward. He looked at me with fires of hell raging behind his eyes. "it don't change anything, actually."

"You got my brother in there?" Daryl interrupted.

G snorted. "Sorry, we're fresh out of white boys. But I've got Asian. You interested?"

Rick pulled the boy forward, and tried to turn the conversation around, "I have one of yours, you have one of mine. Sounds like an even trade."

"Don't sound even to me." G responded. The kid shook with fear as he came to terms with the fact that 'G' was not backing down so easily.

"G. Come on, man." Guillermo ignored the kid and continued to talk to Rick,

"My people got attacked. My man died out there. Where's the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to the point, where's my bag of guns?"

"Guns?" Rick feigned innocence. G's nose flared.

"The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns."

"You're mistaken."

"I don't think so."

"About it being yours," Rick pulled the strap further onto his back, looking down at G the whole time. "It's my bag of guns."

"The bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs. I'm supposed to take your word for it? What's to stop my people from unloading on you right here and now and I take what's mine?" G's men readied themselves. I pulled the kid directly in front of me. If he shot now, he'd hit his own. The fact that they hadn't killed us yet suggested Miguel was important to them.

"You could do that." Rick agreed. G's confusion turned to apprehension, as he spotted T-Dog on the roof, a sniper rifle aimed at his head. The red dot glinted in G's brown eyes. "Or not."

G swallowed, and then regained his confidence. "Oye."

Two men appeared on the roof, flanking another smaller man with a bag over his head. They tore off the bag to reveal a terrified Glenn. The closer they got to the edge of the roof, the more nervous I got. I had to think of something fast.

"I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood." Guillermo and his group turned to leave, I had to do something. Now.

"Wait." He turned around and looked at me. "We'll come back in an hour, with the kid and your bag."

"Liz, what the hell-"

"Shush. We'll make the trade."

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

"You're just gonna give up an entire bag of guns. Are y'all crazy?" Daryl started the minute we got back to the building. I ignored him. A plan was forming in my mind, all the cogs were ticking away as I plotted. I knew what I could do, it was just a matter of getting it to work. And getting everyone to agree.

"T-Dog, watch the kid. I need to talk to Rick and Daryl." I called over my shoulder. Rick and Daryl followed behind me into an office. The tables were littered with papers, stained with coffee and the bitter smell of blood.

"We need those guns, we can't just hand 'em over cause some guy says so-" Daryl raged.

"We're not." I interjected. Both men's jaws dropped slightly.

"But you said-"

"I said I'd give him the kid and the bag, I never said the guns would be inside." I replied coyly. Rick and Daryl exchanged looks; they thought I was crazy. If this didn't work, I just might be.

"How are you gonna get Glenn back with an empty bag?" Rick asked me, rubbing his temples. The man had been through some shit in the time I had known him.

"It ain't gonna be empty. I need another large bag, I'm sure we can find one. And pipes. We need pipes."

"Pipes, what the hell are-" Realisation dawned on Rick, his face shone like the ending of a weeklong eclipse had unfolded before him. I soon wasn't the only one smirking like a madman. "Ah."

"What if he sees them before we leave?" Daryl asked, also having caught on.

"We ain't gonna hang around. We swap Glenn for the kid and the bag and then we leave. We don't even have to enter the property. Just cut the fence a little more and we can trade through," I explained. "Rick, you see if we've got another bag, I need Daryl to start pulling down pipes from the ceiling." If the roof was anything like most office buildings, then the workmen had hidden its plumbing inside the lino ceiling squares. Rick threw open the door, making sure to shut it as he left. If Miguel found out what had happened, he'd snitch to G before we even got a chance to trade.

Daryl leapt onto the tables and ripped the lino squares down. I had been right. Inside the ceiling was a variety of gleaming, rusted pipes. They clanged as Daryl pulled on them, wrenching them free.

Rick entered quickly, handing Daryl the bolt cutters to make his job easier. "Found a bag," Rick dropped it on the desk. "so, we put the guns in this one?"

"Not yet. You two make sure we got enough pipes. I wanna show the kid the guns, make sure he believes that's what we're trading."

Outside the office, Miguel was staring down the barrel of T-Dog's gun. I leaned down next to him and unzipped the bag of guns. His eyes widened at the sight of the large arsenal. "These look okay for your group?"

"You're smart. Thought you were gonna be stupid and try to go in there shooting up the place. G would've killed you all." Miguel smirked. Arrogant little shit. If I had felt even the slightest amount of guilt for tricking his friends, it was gone now.

"Okay kid, whatever. We're packing up our stuff in the other room, then we're headin' back to your group." I returned to the two men, who had a hefty collection of pipes piled up. "We need them to weigh about the same." I dumped the guns into the spare bag and began to stuff pipes of different sizes into the 'gun bag'. Rick held both after they were filled and declared them roughly the same weight.

"Ya'll really think this will work?" Daryl asked, clambering down from the table. His breath was ragged.

"I'm not sure. But we gotta try. If it gets us our guns and Glenn, I'm willing to." I followed Rick out, Daryl behind me. T-Dog pulled Miguel to his feet.

"Here, consider this our way of making sure G knows we're genuine," Rick allowed Miguel to hold the bag for a minute. "feel heavy enough?"

"Oh yeah." The boy crowed, flashing uneven, yellowing teeth as he grinned.

"C'mon, we got places to be." Daryl chided, pushing the boy out of the building. He swung the real bag of guns onto his shoulder and gave me a knowing look. For a moment, his eyes drifted to where my tattoo was, just behind my ear. However, just as quickly as they drifted, his eyes hardened again. He marched by me without a word. At that moment, I had almost forgotten he hated me for abandoning his brother.

We walked quickly and arrived early. To make sure we could fit both Glenn and the kid through the fence at the same time, we cut further along. It was decided that the kid would carry the fake guns to Guillermo, giving us time to run as far away as possible before the group figured out they didn't have guns.

The doors open not long after. G swaggered out with Glenn, a large smirk plastered on his face. "What, you're not going to come inside."

"Trade through the fence. It's not fair if we're on your territory. You could stop us from leavin'." Rick explained. G shrugged, conceding that we had a point.

He tossed Glenn to the man Daryl had shot. "Go on. You give us Miguel and the guns at the same time we give you the Asian boy?"

"Sounds good."

"Wait." The gang member stopped moving and held Glenn where he was. "How do we know all of my guns are in there?" Rick's breathing was shallow and ragged. I kept a straight face, someone had to stay calm. I could still work this.

"Your boy over here saw the inside of the bag just before we left. He'll tell you." G turned to the kid.

"Miguel?"

"S'true G. There's a whole load of guns in there. We got enough for everyone." Miguel breathed enthusiastically. G's eyes lit up.

"Then let's trade niña."

The gang member brought Glenn to the fence. Rick handed the kid the 'guns' and pushed him gently through the fence. Glenn was shoved a little more violently, but he was with us, safe and unharmed. G smiled brightly upon seeing the kid, and even seemed to give us a kind smile.

We turned and walked as fast as possible, finally breaking into a sprint when we were out of view. It was only when we left the city limits and were walking towards the truck that I finally began to laugh. We'd made it out unharmed, with both the guns and Glenn.

Rick joined in, and we laughed together, mostly in fear and relief. G and his gang were probably out for blood now; they would have opened the bag by now and found pipes instead.

Glenn and T-Dog, who hadn't been told the plan due to watching the kid, looked at us like we were insane. Even Daryl was giving us a shifty side-eye. Tired of waiting, T-Dog burst out "The hell y’all laughing at? We just gave away all our guns!"

"No... no we didn't."

"What? But I saw-" Daryl unzipped the bag and showed T-Dog the guns. He sighed with relief and then barked out a laugh of his own. "Ya'll managed to actually trick those a-holes?"

"Bastards were so sure they had more control over that shit, they didn't even consider we'd try anything." I sang.

Glenn stopped walking, frozen in motion. His face whitened, contrasting with the redness underneath his eyes that hinted at crying or sleep deprivation.

"What's up, Short Round?" Daryl grunted.

"They wouldn't have killed us," Glenn insisted.

"Are you crazy, man?" T-Dog clapped the man over the shoulders. "they were ready to fill us with lead!"

"They're protecting elderly people there!" Glenn exclaimed. The bubbling exuberance settled down into the ground. "They needed those guns."

"And so do we," I piped up. "We got kids at camp, and I ain't handing over shit if it means Josie and I can sleep easier."

Daryl felt into line with me as we walked silently, our high spirits burst. The others shuffled behind us. We reached the place where the van should have been.

Should have.

"Oh my God." I stuttered.

"Where the hell's our van?"

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn croaked, staring at the empty space.

"Who do we know that might be pissed off enough to try and escape town?" I asked dryly.

Daryl's eyes widened, "Merle."

"We need to get back. Now." Without the van, we'd have to walk all the way to camp. Which would be a long, very awkward journey.

Groaning in frustration, I began to walk.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

"So, ya'll ended up at the quarry by accident?" I chuckled.

For the first lot of walking, we trekked along in silence. Occasionally, Glenn would try to start a conversation, but it always died off pitifully. As dusk broke, the others had grown tired of not talking. Hence, why T-Dog and Daryl were telling Rick and I the story of how everyone ended up at the quarry.

"Sort of, Shane was roundin' up anyone willing to get off the highway and find someplace safer. Me and Merle tagged along after Dale told us what was goin' on." Daryl concurred.

"We'd been hearing rumours that the geeks were overrunning the army and making their way down the highway for about an hour before we finally got our asses off the road," T-Dog added. "most of the people down there didn't wanna believe it, they stayed. I got my ass as far away from there as possible, ended up followin' Ed's car to the quarry. More joined over time, but not too many."

We were surrounded by the stone walls of the quarry, the stone walls and murky night closing in on us. Every sound echoed around us. So when the ghostly screams and gunshots could be heard, my blood ran ice cold.

"Oh shit." Glenn shuddered.

"Go! Go!" Running as fast as we could go, we raced to camp. Rick threw us guns and charged into the centre of the action. We broke through the treelines with barely any time to catch our bearings or understand what was going on.

It was a gory crime scene. People lay dead or dying on the ground. One shrieking woman was missing her arm; I found it being chewed by a walker I promptly put down. I couldn't see Josie anywhere. Panic set it, all around me was death and blood. The fire illuminated everything in a dark, creepy light, making the spooks look much scarier than they actually were.

By the RV, Andrea's sister had been grabbed by a walker. She screamed as it bit into the side of her neck, blood cascading in a waterfall onto the ground. Andrea began to scream too, and she rushed to her sister's side as a thin, weedy man crushed the walker's head. "No! No! Oh God! Oh my God!"

I heard my sister yelling from near the RV. Rick's wife and his best friend had gathered most of the survivors there, where they were standing off against the walkers. Josie must have forgotten her gun and knife in her tent, because she made no effort to kill walkers.

"Come on, make your way to the Winnebago!" Shane bellowed, pulling Morales' wife out of the reach of a lurker. There were only a few left; I gunned down two as I ran to the RV. Josie spotted me and ran into my arms sobbing.

Behind me, I could hear gargled breaths, and then they stopped. Andrea let out a long, pain-filled moan and started to wail. "Amy! Amy! Amy!"

The thin man who had killed the walker that had bitten Andrea's sister spoke for the first time I'd known him. His words echoed up and down my spine, I felt lost hearing them. "I remember my dream now, why I dug the holes."

Chapter Text

Morning had come too slowly. We'd spent the majority of the night trying to find the bodies- and hope that we'd killed every walker in camp.

Andrea's sister was one of the few walkers that hadn't been put down yet. Lori had tried to ask her if we could move her, but she'd gotten no response. It was like Andrea had been stolen from the shell of her defeated body. We'd gathered around the ashes of the trampled campfire to discuss our options.

"Can't just leave Amy like that." Shane reasoned, receiving agreement from everyone around us. "We need to deal with it same as the others."

"I'll tell her how it is." Rick stated, walking off towards Andrea. I had a bad feeling about it, Andrea was frozen where she was for now.

He went to lean down. I didn't hear what he said, but it must've touched a nerve with Andrea, because she pulled her gun and aimed it at his head. "I know how the safety works."

He stumbled back to us and shook his head. Daryl, who'd been listening to us talk with no input of his own, finally snapped.

"Y'all can't be serious. Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked.

"Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No. For God's sake, let her be." Lori spat. I decided to step in, since Daryl looked ready to aim the crossbow at her instead.

"He's not wrong. It only takes a minute for Andrea to look away, and then we're all in trouble, because then it's two problems to deal with." I reasoned. Lori rolled her eyes, and I pushed down the simmering desire to bite back.

"So what are you gonna suggest? We drag Andrea away and shoot Amy?"

"If that's what needs to be done." I replied plainly. It seemed an obvious solution to me. At her disgusted looks, I realised that maybe I should find something else to do, away from Lori Grimes. "Think it over, I'm gon' go help Daryl burn the bodies." She was still red faced when I walked away to where Daryl was trying to drag bodies on his own. I grabbed the legs of the body he was carrying, and together we chucked it onto the burning pile of bodies.

"Thanks." He mumbled. I had a feeling he was talking about more than clearing the bodies.

"No need." I replied. With Daryl, explanations could be left in the dark, where I preferred them.

We went to grab the next one, a man that had been killed in camp, when Glenn noticed where we were taking it. "What are you guys doing? This is for geeks. Our people go over there."

"What's the difference?" Daryl questioned, pulling it towards the fire. "They're all infected." Glenn followed, still persistent and slowly raising his voice.

"Our people go in that row over there, WE DON'T BURN THEM!" His voice raised suddenly, and I dropped the legs of the dead man, turning to Glenn, noticing others had done the same. "We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there."

Daryl 'hmphed' and indicated to take the body to where Glenn wanted it. He dropped him carelessly and spat "You reap what you sow."

"Really?" I asked, "You choosin' now to be an ass?"

Daryl leaned away, taken aback. He looked at the others casting disappointed stares at him. "Y'all left my brother for dead. YOU HAD THIS COMIN'!" He seethed, storming away from those of us moving bodies, disappearing into the treeline. He'd likely come back after he calmed down; it seemed that unlike Merle, Daryl was capable of making smart decisions, and not always ready to start a fight.

I managed to move bodies on my own; it wasn't my first time dragging them around, and it wouldn't be my last, I suspected. Josie sat with the kids, and for once, I was glad she wasn't stuck right by my side. Seeing the bodies of people she may have talked to in camp wasn't anything a child should witness. The more time she spent with Sophia and Rick's son Carl, the better.

My only problem was if she got too attached. I wanted to go home to Arkansas. These people would die, as everyone did eventually. I couldn't bear to watch another group dwindle in numbers until only Josie and I were left. Not again.

More and more bodies joined either the camp's victims or the burning pile. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the gorier images. Tonight, my dreams would be filled with torn flesh and haunted stares of corpses I hadn't been able to save. I seemed to be making a habit of that.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Daryl making his way back over. I placed the final walker corpse on the fire and stood upright.

"A walker got him, a walker bit Jim!" a woman's voice called out, frightened and wild. The other survivors flew into action, as we flocked towards the thin man with the dark hair. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, mumbling. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Show it to us." Daryl demanded. The man clawed at the air in front of him, trying to keep Daryl back. His face was pale and sickly. I looked down to his shirt, and saw a dark red patch spreading.

"Easy, Jim." The old man, who I knew as Dale now, reassured him. No amount of caring voices was helping this man. Jim noticed Daryl's pickaxe and snatched it, holding it in front of him. He held it more like a life support than a weapon, it was pressed to his chest.

"Grab him."

"Jim, put it down. Put it down." Unknown to Jim, T-Dog had crept behind him. Jim whimpered in pain when T-Dogs arms seized him and held him still whilst Daryl lifted his shirt.

Jim's bite was large and had clear teeth marks. The skin around the bite was greenish and bruising, the bite itself was filled with pus and other disgusting liquids that oozed and mingled with his blood. For him to even be standing seemed impossible. T-Dog let go and backed away, and Jim continued his manic rambling. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Shit," Shane cursed, rubbing the back of his head furiously. He pulled Jim into the shade of the R.V. and sat the delirious man down. When he came back, his eyes were pleading for an answer. "the hell we meant to do about this?"

Daryl did not win anyone's favour with his suggestion.

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it." He stated.

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane asked, looking at Daryl like he'd grown a third head.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it."

"This isn't the way we should be going, Jim is sick." Rick started.

"Daryl is right about this one, Rick." I interrupted him, looking at the angry and repulsed group around me. "Y'all can look at me like that all y'all want, but if the girl turns and bites Andrea, we got more problems than we can afford on our hands. And that ain't even mentionin' the infected guy."

"Jim and Amy." Lori added sharply.

"What?"

"Their names are Jim and Amy, not 'the infected guy' and 'the girl'. At least know their names before you decide you want them dead." Lori's words hit me like a truck. Did I have any right to tell people what they should do without even knowing the people they were talking about? I tried to think about how I would have felt if anyone had referred to my own brother as 'the infected guy'. Would I have been angry? Or would I have agreed with them?

I'd made a lot of hard decisions in the past few weeks, I didn't even know if I'd agreed with half of them. I just knew that they had to be done. We had to survive. Living could come after that.

"What about a cure?" Rick asked, jagged with desperation. "the CDC, or anything."

"I ain't heard about any sort of cure. CDC could be gone, for all we know." Shane countered.

"That's just it- we don't know. The CDC should be an option." Rick was full of hope, looking around at everyone to see if they felt the same. Instead, he was met with misery and doubt. Even Lori and his friend Shane.

"Man, that is a stretch right there."

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection..."

"And a whole lot of people, if that's true," I chimed in. I kept an eye on Jim, sat slumped in the shade of the trees. "we should be stayin' away from populated areas, they only draw more lurkers to them."

Shane huffed, stalking over to Jim. Daryl's grip on his pickaxe tightened. I moved towards him, resting my hand firmly against his. His head snapped up to look at me and shifted from rage to confusion. He snatched his hands away from me as if I was made of acid.

"Don't." I whispered softly.

"Don't what?" he snapped, hoisting the pickaxe on his shoulders.

"Let me talk to Rick about Jim," I reasoned with him. Daryl's shoulders relaxed. "he can be made to see we're right."

Daryl nodded, and we walked our separate ways. I walked over to where my sister and her new friend Sophia were drawing. They sat with Morales' wife and Carol, Sophia's mother. As I neared them, Morales' wife whispered to Carol and left with her two children, looking back at me with overwhelming grief.

Josie smiled at me and continued colouring with Sophia until I sat down. "I know how long this has been going on." She waved her arms around to tell me she meant the walker virus situation.

"Really? And how long is that?"

"Sixty-two days." The number span around my head. Only sixty-two days? It had felt longer than two months. I could barely even remember what it was like to live in a normal house, with electricity, running water... sixty-two?

"That- that's very smart of you." She smiled proudly and shoved a picture of a rather strange stick person in my face.

"This is you. Do you want to keep it?"

"Of course." Josie went back to colouring something else -a cat, by the looks of it- and her friend asked for a blue crayon.

"Liz, this is Sophia and her mommy Carol." Sophia ducked her head down, freckles standing out against her bright red face. Carol was no better, her ears turned red, and she mumbled a 'hello'. "Carol and Sophia are nice."

"Well, if you think they're nice, then they must be." I leaned over Sophia's drawing. "Hey, what's that?" She mumbled something I couldn't understand. "What?"

"S'a horse."

"It's good. I like horses."

"Me too."

"I'm not very good at riding them though, ask Rick." I leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "I fell off a horse into a mud patch when I was eight, but you can't tell anyone." She giggled and promised not to say anything.

BANG! Somebody's gun went off by the RV, causing everyone to skittishly move about and try to determine why. Heart in my throat, I leaned around several people to see that Andrea had finally done what was right. Amy's head oozed blood from a bullet wound. Andrea managed to get to her feet and almost drag herself into the RV while her gun was still smoking.

One down. Only Jim left to go. It was up to me to convince Rick that putting Jim down was his best option.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

A makeshift funeral was held for the fifteen camp members who had died during the walker attack. Devoid of coffins, we instead wrapped the bodies in sheets, unable to face burying them exposed.

When it came to Amy's turn to be put in a grave, Andrea insisted on placing her inside the hole. It was heart-breaking to watch her as she struggled to drag Amy in. Shane offered her a hand, but she refused, pulling her little sister into the grave herself. "I can do it. I can do it. I can do it! I can do it." Amy's body thudded into the bed of the hole.

After that moment of silence, where nobody wants to be the first to leave, we headed back down the hill to sort out the belongings of the dead. Although Rick and Lori had wanted their things to be left behind, Shane and I had made our argument clear; supplies were running low as it was already. If we left valuable things behind, then we were sentencing ourselves to die. Rick's face was dark as we emerged from tents carrying weapons, clothing and food, but he said nothing.

Meanwhile, Jim's condition has deteriorated quickly. He'd gone from pale and sickly to a full fever, complete with incoherent mumbles and itchiness around his bite. Rick coerced me into reapplying a bandage around it, and I had to cover my nose whilst doing so. The smell was horrible, it was like the skin around his bite was already dead and rotting. Dark veins webbed from the teeth marks.

"His fever is worse." Carol added, wiping a wet cloth across Jim's head. She was right, his skin was like a furnace.

"You need anything?" Lori asked. Jim licked his lips and replied,

"Uh... Water. Could use more water."

"I'll get some."

"Okay."

"Carol, can you help me?" The two women left, and it was just Rick and I watching Jim. Asking about Jim's future wasn't an option at the moment; I could wait until Rick had spoken with him.

"Rick, I'll just be back here if you need me." He nodded in acknowledgement. I leaned against the counter and tried to block out Rick and Jim's private conversation, when another set of voices caught my attention.

"I need you to help talk some sense into Rick." A deep male voice. Shane. "Look, this C.D.C. thing, Lori, it's a mistake. So you're backing him?" So, Shane and Lori were right outside the door. Lori spoke in hushed tones after Shane asked her the question.

"What else would I do? He's my husband."

"Look, it may be time for you to play the dutiful wife, but you can't tell me that fixing your marriage is worth putting people's lives at risk." Shane sounded incredibly bitter, like he disliked the idea of Rick and Lori 'fixing their marriage'.

"I think folks around here can make up their minds without bringing my marriage into it. It's a habit you need to break." A habit? So, this kind of thing had come up before. Shane took his time answering her, I could hear her foot tapping into the dirt.

"I guess I'll just add it to the list of habits that I'm breaking whether I like it or not." As Shane answered her, Rick finished his conversation with Jim and threw the door wide open to reveal Shane and Lori stood just by the door. Shane turned sharply, noting both Rick and I stood there.

"What habits?" Lori visibly relaxed after she realised Rick had only heard the end of their conversation. After we locked eyes, however, I tried my hardest to make sure she knew that I'd heard it all.

"Just talking about my need for a plan, man. So what is it? Are we leaving or not? Maybe y'all just want to stay here. We could hang some more tin cans." Shane still sounded bitter but hid most of it well.

"We can't stay here. We both know that."

"I was just telling Shane I think we should trust your gut." Lori added. 'Liar' I thought. 'You're scared he'll find out about something' I just needed to find out what that was.

Jim groaned from inside, and it brought me back down to earth, and to the questions I had wanted to ask Rick. "Rick, you got a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." He followed me around to the back of the RV, where I took a long, deep breath, and started to try and convince him.

"Rick, I don't think taking Jim with us is a good idea."

"Not you too-"

"Rick, listen-"

"No. Liz, this man is sick! He needs help, not a bullet to the head." Denial was a word used for moments like this. Rick wasn't stupid, he knew Jim had very little chance of making it. He was a cop trying to pretend he was coping in a world without laws.

"Rick, stop. You've seen the state he's in, and he's only been ill a few hours! It's moving quickly, he won't make the trip."

"You don' know that."

"I do." Rick shook his head in disbelief.

"No, you don-"

"Rick. I do." My voice pitched, cracking with emotion as hot tears tried to burn my eyes. Whatever he'd heard in my words seemed to break him; he pressed his hand into his forehead and looked down at the ground. "Please. It'd be doin' him mercy."

He pressed his head against the wall of the R.V. and breathed in deeply. "Can you make it quick?" He asked softly. His voice wavered.

"Knife to the base of the skull. He wouldn' feel a damn thing until right before it drove home."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I-I'll get Shane to help you take him up the hill. You can't do it down here. Not with everyone here."

"Thank y-"

"Don't." He growled. "Don't ever thank me for lettin' you kill a man."

He left me in the cold shade of the metal house, stalking back around. I heard him shout for Shane and readied myself for the procession to the top of the hill.

Shane and I had to almost drag Jim to the hill. We passed Jacqui, and she clapped her hands to her mouth as she registered what was going to happen. I heard the whispers and murmurs and put up those stony walls that blocked everything out.

"Hey," Shane's voice broke through a small crack in my walls. I looked at him over Jim's shoulder. "I hate that we gotta do this, but I wanna thank you for having the guts to do it."

"Don't worry," I replied. "It's not a first for me." If Shane had wanted to ask about it, he was decent enough to keep quiet despite it.

We lowered Jim under the shade of the giant tree that loomed over our makeshift graveyard. He chuckled.

"Would ya'll look at that. This damn tree. Can't seem to get away from it." Jim's eyes were closed, which I was glad for. I didn't want him watching Shane dig an extra grave meant especially for him.

"Are you sure you're comfortable?" He nodded his head lazily.

"Never felt better. Air's nice, much nicer than inside the Winnebago." Cold sweat ran down his forehead; he didn't seem to mind. "I can't wait to see Lilly."

"Lilly?"

"My wife. She's so beautiful. And my two boys. God I've missed 'em." His eyes glazed over. Now was the best time to withdraw the knife and avoid startling Jim. "They're waiting for me, ya know. With Amy. They're all swimming by the boat."

"It sounds wonderful." He smiled and closed his eyes again. With careful precision, I leaned over him and positioned the knife; its tip hovered inches away from his skin. When I turned around to see if Shane was still digging, I noticed that he had left, the grave already dug. "Keep your eyes closed Jim."

"I'm goin' home to them." He told me. "I'm goin' home... I'm goin' home..."

It was a mantra he repeated until the knife was pushed up into his brain. His head lolled sideways onto my shoulder. His entire body relaxed. I waited a moment to recollect my thoughts before deciding to move him into his grave.

There was a bedsheet laid down beside his grave for him. I wrapped him in it slowly and carefully, making sure his eyes were already closed.

Moving Jim was easier. He was small and thin, lighter than most bodies. But he still made the same sound as every other body when he hit the bottom of the grave. Filling the hole up didn't help the empty feeling in my chest.

I found flowers growing behind the tree Jim had been leaning against. I placed five of them on his grave, just as I heard someone behind me clear their voice.

I rotated around and looked at Daryl. He stared back, neither one of us sure of what to say. How did you talk about something like this? Finally, Daryl swung his crossbow in the direction of Jim's grave. "Why?"

"I know what has to be done." I answered. "It don't mean I like doin' it."

We walked down the hill together. Everywhere I turned at the campsite, I was faced with looks of repulsion and hatred. I heard their whispers, the quiet conversations between Morales' wife and Jacqui, the short arguments between T-Dog, Rick and the old man.

It was made worse when we had to gather together to wait for Rick, Shane and the old man to get back and deliver a final verdict on what we were doing, where we would be heading. I sat with Andrea and Carol, though the latter was mostly because her daughter Sophia was my sister's new favourite person.

Shane broke through the clearing much later, when the sun was lurking just above the horizon. Rick and the old man followed.

"I've been, uh... I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Now look, there are no... There are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning."

Josie and I departed to our tent after the group dispersed. She was adamant that she repacked her own bag. I never unpacked mine. "Get your sleep. I'm gon' keep watch for a while."

"Okay." She snuggled into her cot and was out within minutes. I unzipped the tent and left quietly. Sleeping was not an option right now.

Someone else was already sitting by the campfire I had intended to light up. Their head rose as I sat down, and I smiled at the familiar face. Daryl.

"Can't sleep?" He didn't answer, choosing to continue to stare into the flames. For once, he didn't have his crossbow by his side.

I sat down across from him, watching the fire burn. He shifted and looked at me, and finally spoke. "Thought you were leavin'?"

"I was."

"What made you stay?" He seemed genuinely interested. Maybe he'd had the same idea. Without his brother here, nothing was tying Daryl to a group that didn't even like him that much.

"I... I don't really know."

We were silent for the rest of the night. Just two people sat by the fire until the sun began to rise.

Chapter Text

Daybreak saw everyone who had survived the camp massacre trek down to the road, where several cars awaited. Nearly everyone had a backpack hanging off their shoulders. Shane and Rick stepped up to the front and began to tell everyone what would be happening. "Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?" Nobody spoke. "Come on. Let's go. Let's move out."

Deciding where everyone would sit was a disaster. Shane had stalked off to his own truck, and nobody but Rick and his family knew him well enough to ask for a ride. Carol, Lori, Rick and the kids between them piled into Carol's car, and Morales' widow and her kids got in with T-Dog, Jacqui and Andrea.

Josie and I looked around at the RV, where the old man had already offered Glenn a ride. "Josie, we'll get in the old guy's Winnebago-"

"His name is Dale."

"Whatever. So, you get in there now while I grab the other bag." She skipped up the steps as I grabbed the other bags we had left. I'd have to sort everything out to fit into one bag; I couldn't carry two all the time.

"You can ride with me," I heard. Daryl's truck was parked just next to Dale's RV. He looked down at his dirty boots before adding, "nobody in the RV likes you right now." Way to be blunt. Still, he was telling the truth. They had all looked at me like I was going to stab them at any moment.

"You sure?" It surprised me that he was being so friendly. Just a few days ago, we pointed weapons at each other. I had left his brother for dead.

"Uh huh." He threw open the passenger door. Before I could get in, I needed to tell Josie that I would be in a different car. I popped my head around the RV door and shouted through.

"Josie, I'm gonna get in Daryl's truck, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Dale asked me. "I mean, we have enough room." I waved him off and thanked him.

"Naw. I'll put the bags in here and get in with Daryl." Josie dragged the heavy bags into the RV for me as I jumped into Daryl's truck with him. "You ready to go?"

"Sure." He waited until the RV and Carol's car got ahead before pulling onto the main road. I looked at the bike strapped in the back and noted the 'SS' insignia on its side. Merle's bike, I was assuming. Daryl had yet to give me reason to believe he held the same views as Merle. Hadn't given me reason to believe he didn't either.

The Winnebago didn't get far along the road. We made it a few miles from the quarry before it began to splutter and broke down. Group members flooded out of their vehicles to take a look at the RV.

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose. I said I needed the one from the cube van." Dale said.

"Can you jury-rig it?"

"That's all it's been so far. It's more duct tape than hose. And I'm out of duct tape." I stepped out of the truck to go see how bad the situation was.

"Which one."

"Lower radiator hose." Dale answered. An idea came to mind, but since I wasn't an expert, I couldn't be sure.

"What about the flex hose? Could that work if you have a spare?" Dale looked up and banged his hand against the engine.

"You know, it just might!" Suddenly, he frowned. "Flex hose would be pretty tight fitting, could pop out of place or rub against other parts."

"If we duct tape it in place it shouldn't move."

"I don't have any tape."

"I do. Hold on a minute." While Dale rushed into the Winnebago to get his spare flex hose, I jogged to Daryl's truck and unzipped my personal backpack. I carried a lot of things inside and had to root around to find the roll of tape in it.

My hand brushed the corner of something cold and metal inside the backpack, and I pulled it out hesitantly.

It was a family photograph. I sat off to the side, hair much longer and curlier than it was now. Josie was tucked under my arm, grinning.

I didn't hear Andrea come up behind me until she jabbed her finger at the photograph. "Who's that?" She smirked. "your boyfriend?"

She had pointed at the young blond man on my other side. That stupid exclamation mark tattoo beside his left eye stood out like a sore thumb. He never grinned, only gave that idiotic half smile, like he knew something important. "No. Brother." Andrea's smile faded and she sounded much more sincere.

"Sorry. Your twin, right?" So, Josie had been talking to them about our family. Great. The last thing I wanted was for the group to know my entire backstory, just when I was debating whether I would be leaving.

"Yeah."

"Did he die?" I said nothing, I couldn't. Andrea seemed to understand me clearly. She squeezed my shoulder and walked back to Dale.

I turned the photograph over and placed it back in the bag. Memories were a hindrance in this new world. The only solution for survival was to forget.

When I returned with the tape and flex hose, I was met with Dale's bemused, quizzical stare. "What?"

"Where did you learn to fix an R.V. then?" he asked.

"My brother worked as a mechanic at my dad's shop, I used to hang around when he fixed cars and shit," I didn't know why I was confessing all this. There was something in Dale's eyes that invited people to tell their stories. He had a grandfatherly demeanor about him. "He'd talk to me about his work while he did it. I guess I just listened more than I thought I had."

"Well, it's certainly come in handy." He replied cheerfully, patting my arm as he returned to the R.V. and told everyone aboard that we were ready to move again. I leapt back into Daryl's truck, where he was waiting.

I opened my mouth and blurted out the question that had been rattling in my head as he started the car. "Why'd you let me drive with you?"

He shrugged, and for a moment I thought he may not have known the answer himself. Then he replied, "Like I said, you're not makin' yourself popular with everyone else right now."

I wanted to call him a liar. I didn't believe his reasons, not for a second.

With no way of proving it, I turned away and stared out at the roads passing us by.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

From the outside, the CDC looked like a dead end. There was no guard to be seen.

"So much for military protection." I said to Daryl. He stayed silent, choosing to scowl up at the building. I had no doubt that he would have words to say when he came face-to-face with Rick.

The group piled out of the cars and the RV silently. Shane and Rick led the group in the front, whilst Daryl and I stayed at the back to prevent stragglers from being separated. Any words spoken were hushed whispers. "All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go. Okay, keep moving. Stay together."

"Keep moving. Come on."

"Shh."

"Carol."

"Keep it together. Come on." We passed maybe dozens of dead bodies lying on the ground. Soldiers had been here. Their bodies were easily recognisable, though their uniforms were torn, and blood splattered.

The doors to the CDC were blocked by shutter. We'd travelled all this way to find a building that we had no chance of getting into.

Shane was of a similar thought track. He looked around wildly and finally settled on Rick. "Nothing?"

"There's nobody here."

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick snapped. He tried to foolishly lift a shutter, which did not budge. Not even a fraction.

Animalistic growling from behind the group caught everyone's attention. Daryl landed an arrow in the forehead on one walker, I shot another.

People began to panic. We were in the middle of an open area, and more and more walkers were advancing. With only a few of us carrying weapons, we'd be mostly defenseless. It would be the quarry camp all over again.

"You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl roared, charging at Rick. Shane stepped between them and tried to reason with him.

"He made a call." Shane reasoned with him. I noticed the man's hands shaking with anger, and I doubted it was directed at Daryl this time.

"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl roared. The walkers only continued to stumble towards us. If we didn't move soon, we'd be surrounded.

Shane pulled at Rick's still figure. The man didn't budge.

"Rick, we need to think of something, now. Fort Bennet, anywhere!" insisted Lori.

"We don't have time to think of something!" I spat. "We need a place to stay now."

"Come on, let's go. Let's get out of here. Let's go. Please," Shane attempted to herd everyone back to the RV. "All right, everybody back to the cars. Let's go. Move." A hand pushed against my lower back, trying to direct me towards the cars. Rick remained where he was, staring up at a CCTV camera in the corner of the abandoned building.

"The camera... it moved." He exclaimed. I almost laughed for a minute there. He'd cracked. Finally, the new world had caught up to him and cracked him.

"You imagined it." Dale suggested to him, starting up at the camera dubiously.

"It moved." Rick insisted. "It moved."

"Rick, it is dead, man. It's an automated device. It's gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now come on," No matter how hard Shane pushed him, or tried to convince him, Rick would not leave the front of the building. "Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, Rick."

Still, Rick paid no attention. He began to bang on the shutters desperately, shouting to people we couldn't even prove existed. "I know you're in there. I know you can hear me!"

"Everybody get back to the cars now!" T-Dog yelled. The hand on my back became a little more forceful, calloused fingers digging in to try and push me towards the cars.

"Please, we're desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left." Rick begged. He rammed the shutters with his whole body. They clattered against the walls of the CDC uselessly.

"Rick. There's nobody here."

"We have nowhere else to go," Rick pleaded. His voice began to rise as he hit the shutters harder and harder each time. "Keep your eyes open. If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!"

"Come on, buddy, let's go. Let's go." Shane had had enough. He gripped Rick and tried to drag him literally kicking and screaming towards the cars. Josie rushed back to grip my hand, working with the hand behind me to pull me towards the cars.

"Please help us. You're killing us! YOU'RE KILLING US! YOU'RE KILLING US!" Shane finally managed to turn Rick around to face the other way.

I heard the shutters moving before I saw it. They clanked and clattered open; wide light flooded the nightfall as we stood there.

Rick had been right. I tried to speak, but my throat was too dry.

The group was deservedly paranoid as we crept inside the CDC's main lobby. Nobody was waiting for us, instead, we were greeted with utter silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the groans of walkers mingled in with Lori's whispering in an attempt to comfort Sophia and her son.

"Daryl, you cover the back." Shane ordered, pumping the shotgun and advancing alongside Rick.

I peered into the darkness of the building's corner. The CDC was large and made mainly of glass; it was fairly bright in the main lobby, light beamed down from the ceiling.

Some loaded a shotgun from the dark. The stranger leaned over the countertop and shouted at us from where they were. "Anybody infected?"

"No"

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

"A chance."

"That's asking an awful lot these days." The stranger pointed out.

"I know." Rick admitted. The stranger stayed silent for a moment, holding us in anticipation. Josie's grip on my arm became incredibly tight.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." They finally decided, stepping into the light.

It was a man, older and blond, with some scruff clinging to his chin. He held a shotgun in his hands tentatively, as if he was afraid it would bite him.

"We can do that."

"You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed." The man warned. Shane, T-Dog and Daryl all volunteered to run outside and grab things we may need. I followed Andrea and Dale as we headed further into the building. Every room we passed was shut and locked tight, and I could see no other doctors with the man. "Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here." The front door shutters closed down moments after Shane and the other two men flocked inside.

The man had us crowded into the elevator, pressed up against each other like a can of sardines.

"Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl commented; Dr Jenner turned around and tapped his fingers against the gun barrel absentmindedly.

"There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself. But you look harmless enough. Except you." He said to Carl jokingly. "I'll have to keep my eye on you."

The doors opened with a pleasantly familiar ding. Everything was concrete and cold, with no life. Jenner stalked down the hallway, his shoes clicking across the hard flooring. The inside of the CDC was so clean and bare, and I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to not be surrounded by blood and dirt and rubble.

"Are we underground?" Carol asked, nervously glancing at the ceiling.

"Are you claustrophobic?"

"A little." Carol admitted.

"Try not to think about it." The man dismissed her concerns. I frowned from behind him and reached out to brush Carol's arms in a weak attempt at support. Although she initially flinched, Carol returned the gesture with a kind smile.

Large metal doors at the end of the corridor opened as the man reached them. "Vi, bring up the lights in the big room."

As if on command, the room lit up, and a calm female voice echoed around the chamber. "Welcome to Zone 5."

Aside from the strange man, I couldn't see anybody else here. The room was cold and empty, just like everywhere else in Atlanta.

"Jenner, is everybody here?" Rick questioned. "The other doctors, the staff?"

"I'm it. It's just me here." Hot bubbles of anger popped inside me. If I could have gotten away with it, I would have turned to Rick and punched him. We'd risked death and used up all of our fuel and food to get to the CDC, only for it to be abandoned by all but one?

"What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?" Jenner looked at Lori's hopeful face and crushed that glimmer of possibility.

"Vi, say hello to our guests. Tell them... Welcome."

"Hello, guests. Welcome." The voiceover echoed back. A computer. All that was left of the CDC was one doctor and a damn computer.

"I'm all that's left. I'm sorry," When Jenner spoke, he seemed genuinely apologetic. The hard lines on his face softened, the coldness in his eyes disappeared. As he remembered our promise, those features returned. "If you'd follow me, I need you to give me those blood samples."

He directed us into a smaller room, filled with desks and chairs. One by one, our blood was taken.

"Why don' you just check for bites?" I suggested. He snickered, like he had expected the question, and knew he could outdo me with an answer.

"I..." he hesitated for a moment, scanning the sea of dirty faces. "a blood test is resolute. Bites are the confirmed way of infection, but what's to say it's not in scratches, or their blood and saliva?"

"I've been soaked in walker blood before, and I ain't got infected." I countered. He dabbed a wet cotton bud on the spot where he had inserted the needle into my arm.

"Well, maybe you're just lucky." He beckoned for Andrea to sit down, where the conversation continued.

"She's not wrong though. What's the point? If we were infected, you would be able to tell." Andrea pointed out. Jenner waved off her attempt to reason with him.

"I've already broken every rule in the book by letting you in here. Let me just at least be thorough." The needle withdrew from Andrea's arm, and Jenner stood up. "all done." Andrea stood, swayed, and would likely have fallen if Jacqui hadn't caught her arm. "Are you okay?"

"She hasn't eaten in days." Jacqui replied. "None of us have."

Jenner leaned against his desk. His eyes flickered to where the children stood, and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Well then, I guess we'll have to fix that."

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

The good doctor was kind enough to fix everyone a meal of spaghetti and sauce while everyone was recovering from their blood tests

The good doctor was kind enough to fix everyone a meal of spaghetti and sauce while everyone was recovering from their blood tests. He was even nice enough to bring alcohol to the table, where I made a beeline for a bottle of scotch to avoid drinking wine.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France." At the other side of the table, Dale and Rick were attempting to coerce Lori into allowing Carl a taste of wine. So far, they had been unsuccessful.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then."

"What's it gonna hurt? Come on." Rick added, taking a long drink from his own glass. Lori looked at Rick with wide eyes. "Come on. What?" Seeing that she had lost the fight, Lori allowed Dale to pour Carl a small glass.

"There you are, young lad." The small boy took one sip and put it down immediately, making a face.

"Eww!" We all burst into laughter as he shook his head "yuck. That tastes nasty!" Lori took his glass and poured the leftover wine into her own. A move I could be proud of.

"Not you, Glenn." Daryl added.

"What?" Glenn, the poor boy, looked as confused as everyone else.

Daryl leaned over and slurred, "Keep drinking, little man. I want to see how red your face can get." As everyone laughed, I noticed Josie try to sneak a little bit of wine from the bottle.

"Miss Josephine Marie Warren, what in the hell do you think your doin'?" Everyone roared with laughter as she froze mid-pour and flashed a sheepish grin.

"I wanna try some too!"

"Oh, go on, let her have a try!" Rick joked, I snorted and poured her a little bit before informing everyone that she already knew what wine tasted like. They just laughed harder.

"It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly." Rick said, smiling at Dr Jenner. He smiled back tentatively.

"He is more than just our host." Everyone raised their glasses (Daryl and I raised whole bottles) and began to cheer for the doctor.

"Hear hear!"

"Here's to you, doc."

"BOOYAH!" Daryl shouted, swigging from his bottle.

The commotion died down as everyone returned to celebrating our survival with food and drink. Eventually, one voice raised itself higher than the others, and addressed Jenner. "So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc? All the... the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?" The merry atmosphere of the dining area died down. Shane, now onto his sixth glass of wine, looked like he'd moved from happy drunk to just plain drunk.

"We're celebrating, Shane." Rick warned him. "Don't need to do this now."

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move... Supposed to find all the answers. Instead we... We found him. Found one man. Why?" His attempt at laughing was pitiful and bitter. Jenner looked visibly uncomfortable as the attention was turned to him.

He answered quietly, as if the words ashamed him. "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted." I'd seen that happen. I'd watched people run over other people in their panic and desperation to live. I'd done it myself.

"Every last one?" Shane asked.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door." Jenner shifted in his seat. "they... opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave." Andrea said. "Why?"

"I just kept working. Hoping to do some good." The good mood was gone. Food suddenly tasted sour.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Glenn complained, putting down his wine. Shane rolled his eyes but didn't try to argue.

The majority of the plates were left empty when dinner was finished. Some had been abandoned after Jenner had discussed the absence of his colleagues. He waited for us in the hall and began to run us through the dos, don'ts and bed spaces of the CDC. "Most of the facility is powered down including housing, so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power," All five children agreed to leave the video games alone, though Louis looked put out. "the same applies... If you shower, go easy on the hot water." His last words were passed around the group like something sacred. A mad dash to the showers followed next, with everyone parting ways without even looking back.

I let Josie into the showers first. It had been decided that, because this room had a larger cot and two couches, that Carol and Sophia would be staying with us. Sophia and Carol had already showered and had headed down to the rec room.

The water was amazing from the first moment it came into contact with my skin. I was immediately thankful I had gone in last; it gave me more time under the blissfully soothing waterfall.

I made sure to scrub away any walker blood or dirt from my body. I was a little less vigorous with scrapes, bruises, and that ugly scab forming on my lip from when I had been punched and hit the gravel hard. The water cascading down my back calmed every nerve in my body. I finally felt okay, like normalcy had been restored, and when I walked into the bedroom, I would be in my house in Arkansas, with my family.

It was painful to step out of the shower, I never wanted it to end, though the warmth of the towel did make it a little better. I moved from the bathroom to the mirror in the main room I'd be sleeping in. Clothing was already set out for me, Carol had left a little note hoping they would fit. It was nice to have someone do something genuinely nice for me.

I dropped the towel. The first thing that stood out was the large scar that ran down from the upper inside of my thigh to just above my knee. I'd almost died from that cut; my mother -a practising nurse before the apocalypse- had told me that it had missed the femoral artery by inches. I'd responded by telling her it was better than being torn apart by the walkers.

I'd just wriggled into a pair of underwear when I heard a gasp from behind me. For a fleeting moment, I thought it may have been Rick or Glenn, and so I rushed to wrap the towel around my chest to hide my bare breasts.

Andrea covered her eyes and apologised, "Jesus, sorry. I should've knocked."

"Ya think?!" I snapped, quickly pulling on my t-shirt and pyjama pants. She continued to look at me. "What?"

"You... have a lot of tattoos."

"Yeah." I retorted. I immediately regretted it.

"How many?"

"Four."

"Oh." She stood in the doorway, examining the carpet as if it was the most interesting thing she could think of. "What are the-"

"Do you actually have a reason you're in here?" I interrupted. I was tired, and with Josie off playing in the rec room, I had time to relax without an energetic ten-year-old buzzing around me.

"How'd you do it?" She asked suddenly. Her eyes were red and puffy. She'd been crying.

"Do what?"

"You lost your brother-"

"I lost a helluva lot more than that." She absorbed that information and shut the door behind us. I wasn't stupid, I knew where this conversation was going.

"How are you doing it?"

"Doin' what-"

"Coping!" She snarled. She started to cry again, a mix of snot and tears on her face. "Since Amy's been gone, I can barely even move without thinking about how I should've saved her."

"Weren't your fault." She shook her head and flicked tears everywhere. Uck. I wasn't sure of how to comfort her. If she left looking like this, people might assume that I'd said something; half of them already hated me enough already. "Hey, you did the right thing in the end. You stopped her from hurting anyone else. It's the best way, they wouldn't ever want to come back and kill people, it's the right thing to do."

"Is that what you did?" She hinted. I spluttered and stumbled over my words, trying to find a decent answer to Andrea's question. "You sound like you know the feeling."

"I'd like you to go now." I said. She stood up, stunned. "I'm tired. I want to sleep."

Andrea left without another word, leaving me to curl up on the couch, the beginning of a headache throbbing in my temples.

Chapter Text

As expected, I woke up the next morning with a hangover. God, even my throat was burning. Was coffee something Jenner would have? Did coffee even last long? Knowing my luck, coffee had likely expired, along with most of my favourite things.

Josie had left a note explaining that she'd gone down to the rec room with Eliza and Sophia. Once again, I was left child free. I considered that a rare treat. I couldn't afford to spend time away from her outside of this building. My every waking moment was devoted to keeping her safe.

Without Jenner to lead me around, the CDC seemed like a maze. I walked into several different rooms before I finally found the dining area again.

T-Dog had made breakfast for everyone. Rick greeted me as I walked past, clearly hung-over too. Shane walked in not long after I did, heading straight to the sink for a glass of water. I saw that a kettle had been used. "Is there any coffee?"

"Third cupboard on the right. Hope you like it dark, we don't have milk."

"I'll live without it." I made my cup of coffee and inhaled the smell like it was the antidote to a poison simmering through my bloodstream. God, I'd missed coffee.

"The hell happened to you?" T-Dog asked suddenly. I followed the direction of his gaze, where it was fixated on Shane. "your neck?" Shane lifted his hand to the side of his neck, where there were three long, shallow scratches.

"I must have done it in my sleep." He concluded.

"Never seen you do that before." Rick looked at him oddly as he sat down. I leaned against the counter and waited to see what he said. I could see Shane's fingernails; they were short and trimmed down and most definitely not long enough to cause those scratches.

"Me neither," His eyes flitted across the table to Lori, who swallowed and kept her eyes on the food T-Dog had made for her. "not like me at all." Well, shit. This, combined with the conversation I'd heard at the quarry, was enough to make me believe that Shane and Lori were most definitely up to something. Could I tell Rick? Was it even my place to tell Rick?

I didn't get a chance to think about it anymore; the good doctor strolled in moments later and helped himself to a spoonful of eggs. "Morning."

"Mornin'"

"Hey, doc." T-Dog greeted him. Jenner barely even had time to eat his eggs when Dale spoke to him.

"Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing..."

"But you will anyway." The doctor interrupted dryly. There were bags under his eyes that must've weighed enough to pull his eyeballs from their sockets.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Dale retorted. Doctor Jenner sighed, he looked old and tired in that moment, like he'd been dealing with a heavy burden for years and years. Jenner motioned for us all to follow him, and he led us to the 'Zone 5' area. Everyone who hadn't been in the dining area was given a chance to come down, and he waited patiently until the last people had filed into the room, sleepy and filled with alcohol-related regrets, before beginning.

"Give me playback of TS-19." His computer complied and brought up an image. "few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few."

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked.

"An extraordinary one." There was a note in his voice that was familiar to me. Remembrance, a hint of grief. Something I'd been through more than once since the dead had started walking. "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for E.I.V." The images zoomed in closer, and eventually focused on a bunch of lights dancing around other large blue lumps. Synapses. This was the brain activity of a living person.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked.

I answered out of habit, "Synapses. It's brain activity. Thoughts, memories..."

"Very good." Jenner was impressed. "Did you study science?"

"Nah. Brain activity is a big part of psychology." Upon his questioning look, I added, "I have a degree in Environmental Psychology."

"Must come in handy now."

"Not really."

Rick moved closer to the screen as Jenner took over the conversation.

"Synapses play a big part in who you are, from life, to death."

"And this?" Rick asked, "this is the end, right? It's death."

"Yes."

"This person died?" Andrea asked. Something about her voice was off, like she had spoken from far away, "who?"

"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected... and volunteered to have us record the process." That age and sadness returned to his eyes, the lines on his face became more prominent. "Vi, scan forward to the first event." Suddenly, the brain activity began to drop, the image darkened. "it invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands haemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be... Gone."

"Is that what would have happened to Jim?" Sophia asked her mother quietly.

"Yes."

Andrea bit her lip and held back tears. After our conversation last night, I wasn't sure if I should try and approach her. Jenner, however, did, though it was Lori who gave him an answer.

"She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister."

"I lost somebody too." Jenner added consolingly. "I know how devastating it is. Scan to the second event." The brain began to light up in the area of the brain stem. The lights were no longer their magnificent blue. Instead, a rather dark, pulsating red flickered into existence. "The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute... Seven seconds."

"It restarts the brain?"

"No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving."

"But they're not alive?"

"You tell me."

"It's nothing like before." Rick replied. "Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part... that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct." As he spoke, something rectangular and foreign entered the image from the top of the image. A single ribbon of light erupted from the end and shot straight into the head of his Test Subject. They stopped moving.

"Dios!" Miranda covered her children's eyes.

"God. What was that?" Dale asked frantically. I knew, but with the way Jenner looked, I kept my mouth shut. That hidden rage, that light had reflected it in his eyes.

Andrea, however, had not even noticed, too caught up in her own renewed grief. Seeing these images had only pulled the memories back into her head.

"He shot his patient in the head. Didn't you?" As I'd already predicted, Jenner visibly withdrew into a shell and turned to his machines instead of Andrea.

"Vi, power down the main screen and the workstations."

"You have no idea what it is, do you?"

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, - fungal."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui interrupted. Surprisingly, Jenner nodded.

"There is that."

"Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere." Rick wrung his hands, pressing them against his forehead. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered somebody mentioning this, somewhere. It felt like years ago that this had first started, I could barely even remember last week.

"There are others, right? Other facilities?"

"There may be some." Jenner conceded, "people like me."

"But you don't know? How can you not know?"

"Everything went down. Communications, directives... all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month."

"Doctor Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but... That clock... It's counting down. What happens at zero?" Dale drew attention to the large red clock, counting further and further. It loomed ominously from the background of Zone 5, a countdown to something as big as the clock itself.

Jenner hesitated to answer. When he did, I wasn't so sure I believed him. "The basement generators... they run out of fuel."

"And then? Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur." Jenner had disappeared around the corner before that damn computer even spoke a single word in that irritatingly calm voice. What was he hiding?

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

"You want to leave now?" Josie sat perched on the cot as I hurried to pack our bags. If we were quick, we'd get out before Rick and the others got back from checking out the basement generators.

"We gotta. Jenner ain't tellin' us everything." I heard her sniffle from behind me, and I had to think quickly to comfort the young child. "hey, I know you like them, and I know you made some friends, but-"

"I don't wanna leave them."

"We had already planned to leave them anyway!"

"Then why didn't we?" She made sense, sort of. Why hadn't we left? We could have left the morning after we got there. Or we could have left when Rick and Daryl went looking for Merle. Or the day after that. And the day after that. Four separate occasions where we could have taken our shit and split. We hadn't. I hadn't.

"Kid-"

"The air conditioning just stopped." She interrupted. I looked up, trying to listen to the whirring noise. I found none.

The air conditioning was quickly followed by the lights. We were plunged into darkness. From the voices echoing in the rooms either side, I guessed that it wasn't just us.

"Grab your bag." I whispered. "we may need to leave now." I turned the handle and entered the hallway, where Jenner was stalking through like a man with a purpose. Everyone else had piled out of their rooms and were trying to pry information from Jenner.

"What's going on?" Andrea asked impatiently. "why is everything turned off?"

"Energy use is being prioritized." Jenner answered. We turned in a different direction and ended up on a walkway leading directly down to Zone 5. Something wasn't right.

"Air isn't a priority? And lights?"

"It's not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down."

"Hey! Hey, what the hell does that mean? Hey man, I'm talking to you. What do you mean it's shutting itself down? How can a building do anything?" Daryl asked, bewildered. Jenner scoffed at him and stepped up towards Zone 5.

"You'd be surprised." He answered. Rick, Shane, Glenn and T-Dog rounded the corner and noticed us all crowded into one area. Jenner had begun work on a computer, oblivious to the panic building amongst the other survivors.

"Where the hell have you all been?" I asked irritably.

"Down by the generators," Shane replied. He threw a chilling glare at Jenner, never taking his eyes off of him. "They ain't doing what Jenner said they should be."

"The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule." He looked lost. I clutched Josie's hand and adjusted the bag on my shoulder, we could have to sprint for the door at any moment. Jenner cleared his throat and spoke again. "it was the French."

"What?"

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution." Close to a solution. So, we had almost had a cure, only for them to be cut down before they could figure out a way to stop the walkers.

"What happened?"

"The same thing that's happening here. No power grids. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?" Jenner laughed to himself mockingly. Shane didn't find it funny. He had gone red. He unclenched his fist and jabbed a finger into Jenner's face.

"Let me tell you..."

"To hell with it, Shane. I don't even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody get your stuff. We're getting out of here now !" Rick was muffled by that damn computer. Her voice echoed across Zone 5 and informed us that there were thirty minutes until decontamination. I'd seen what the military had considered decontamination in the outside world; I didn't want to think about the ways you could decontaminate an entire building.

"Everybody, y'all heard Rick. Get your stuff and let's go! Go now! Go! Let's go." Shane shouted. Everyone scrambled for their things and rushed towards the door.

"Come on!" Glenn leapt up the ramp and sped towards the door. Before he reached it, they clanked shut. No handles, no buttons. We had no way of opening them. "no. Did you just lock us in?" Jenner was sitting at the computer, making a voice recording of some sort. He did not respond. "he just locked us in!" I joined Glenn at the doors, trying to find a way to pry them open. It took my mind off of things, blocked the voices out as Rick and Jenner faced off. I only turned my focus from the door when Jenner -quiet, reserved Jenner- began to shout.

"You know what this place is?! We protected the public from very NASTY STUFF!" He took a deep breath and began to rant again. "weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! EVER!" The seat below him creaked as he collapsed into it. "in the event of a catastrophic power failure... in a terrorist attack, for example... H.I.Ts are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.Ts?"

"Vi, define."

"H.I.Ts... high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consists of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen between 5,000° and 6,000° and is used when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired." My heart tried to tear out of my chest. It beat faster and faster, pulling me into an abyss as Jenner's words hit home. An explosion. Jenner was going to set off an explosion big enough to destroy an entire building. With us in it.

"It sets the air on fire." Jenner summarised quietly. "No pain. An end to sorrow, grief... Regret. Everything."

No matter how many times we beat at the door, begged Jenner to open them, tried reasoning, or even threatened (It hadn't earned Daryl, Shane and I any favour in Rick's eyes). Nothing worked. Jenner's decisions were set in stone.

It didn't take long for Daryl to completely snap, his whiskey bottle smashed against the doors and shattered onto the floor. It fazed nobody, every single person in the room had already seen worse today. "Open the damn door!"

Nothing would break through. Shane and Daryl began to beat at the door with axes. Nothing broke through. It had all led to this. Josie and I; we had escaped walkers, crossed the entire state to get to the city, ran from spooks and soldiers alike. Lost family. Friends. Only to die at the hands of someone we had trusted to help save us.

"You should've left well enough alone. It would've been so much easier." Jenner was distant, and he spoke to nobody in particular. Even now, he still sounded comforting, like he planned to help us.

"Easier for who?" Lori spat, clutching Carl to her chest. The kids. Josie, Carl, Sophia, Eliza, Louis. They hadn't even been given the chance to survive.

"All of you. You know what's out there... A short, brutal life and an agonizing death." He turned to Andrea with those sad, sad eyes. "your... your sister... What was her name?"

"Amy."

"Amy. You know what this does. You've seen it." And lastly, he turned to Rick, the man who had led us to our graves. No words could explain how much I wanted to hurt him right now. "Is that really what you want for your wife and son?"

"Hell, nobody wants to die out there, same as we don' wanna die in here!" I saw scarlet, came face to face with our would-be murderer. "you're a doctor-you're meant to save people, not blow'em up without even askin' if they wanna live!" For a moment, something else- a shadow of doubt, maybe even regret- pushed through that mask of indifference. It was forced back again faster than it came through.

"It's too late for that. It's easier this way, you get to say goodbye, you have time to prepare for your death. Would you rather be out there, never knowing when the infected will finally kill you?" Jenner attempted to coax us into agreement. Miranda choked back and sob and clutched her children to her chest. "How many have you lost, just like that." His fingers clicked. "How many haven't had the chance to say goodbye? Rick, you do want this. Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead." Rick had the decency to look ashamed as his wife and Shane glared at him.

"You really said that? After all your big talk?" Shane asked bitterly, setting down his axe.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick spat back.

"There is no hope." Jenner interrupted "there never was. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event."

"The hell it is" I retaliated, pushing myself from the floor. He almost seemed surprised, and still the bastard managed to maintain some sort of composure. "Humans survived the plague, and a shit ton of other diseases. CDC is livin' proof of that. We adapt, it's what humans do."

"This isn't just killing us- it's bringing us back. How can anyone hope to survive this?"

"You did."

He ignored me. The only other sounds in the room were soft whimpers and the clatter of an axe against impenetrable metal.

Lazily, Jenner spoke, "Those doors are designed to be impenetrable."

"But your head ain't!" Daryl roared. He lunged at Jenner with the axe. It took Rick, Dale and T-Dog to restrain him.

"You stayed here," I implored, "you had to have some sort of hope."

"I didn't stay because I wanted to. I made a promise to...to my wife." Despite a blank screen, he still gestured to it.

Lori caught onto what he meant before I even managed to think over his words. "Test subject 19 was your wife."

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no? She was dying. It should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was an Einstein. Me?" Jenner shrugged, letting out a single, raw sob. "I'm just... Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me."

"Maybe y'all didn't find the cure. But it doesn't mean the rest of us have given up too."

"Let us keep trying as long as we can." Lori added. Jenner glanced around the room, listened to Lori and I plead. He saw the terrified faces of five children who were too young to go through this nightmare. He flinched at the cold, icy glare of Shane.

Wordlessly, Jenner swiped a card across the computer and punched in a number. The doors opened with a clank and whirring. "I told you topside locked down. I can't open those."

"Come on, let's go!" Footsteps echoed down the halls as people began to leave. Carol rushed by with Sophia and mouthed a thanks to me.

T-Dog pulled Jacqui towards the exit, but she wrenched her arm from his hand and stepped back to Zone 5. I noticed that Andrea and Morales' family had also stayed where they were; their choice was painfully clear.

"No no, I'm staying. I'm staying, sweetie."

"But that's insane!"

"No, it's completely sane. For the first time in a long time. I'm not ending up like Jim and Amy. There's no time to argue and no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out. Dog." Jacqui begged.

"We will stay too." Miranda announced. I had to say something. Her kids were afraid. Jesus, her kids.

"And do they want to stay?" The boy clutched his mother tightly. The girl said nothing.

"My husband is dead. Without him, who will keep us safe?"

"We will." I promised. Miranda's face soured.

"No, you'll protect your own family first. Better to die together than have my babies be torn apart by monsters."

"I'm staying too." Andrea announced. I resisted the urge to try and convince her otherwise. She had a choice, Jacqui had her choice. Miranda could make her choice, but she could never choose for her children.

"Your kids deserve to live- they deserve a chance! You can't keep them here because you're afraid." She looked at her children, I wondered if she saw the same fear I could see. "I can keep them safe. I can try."

"How can I trust you'll look after them?" she replied bitterly.

"I made you a widow because I made a choice. I'd like to try and make up for that." I begged. Spanish flowed back and forth between Miranda and her children. I caught a couple of words I understood, but nothing else. It was only when hands disconnected that I knew what choice had been made. "Thank you."

"Look after my babies." She pleaded. I said nothing. I glanced back at Jacqui and Jenner sat by the cameras, watching the group try and break the glass; I glanced at Dale trying to convince Andrea, and hoped that he would succeed. And finally, I looked back to Miranda, a woman who held me responsible for the death of her husband, who was trusting me to keep her children alive.

I left them quietly.

The glass had yet to be broken when I entered the lobby. Shane fired his shotgun at the window in a vain attempt to shatter it. Glass didn't even get a damn scratch.

Carol scuttled towards Rick with her handbag wide open. She dipped her hand inside. "Rick, I have something that might help."

"Carol, I don't think a nail file's gonna do it." Shane chimed in dryly. Carol wisely made the choice to ignore him.

"Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform, I found this in your pocket." In her outstretched palm, she held a grenade. A grenade. The grenade from the tank! Of course!

Rick took it from her and moved to the window. It was a risky choice to make, it could break the glass. Or it could just blow up on the inside. The pin made a tiny little clink as he pulled it, holding it in his hands for a minute before seemingly remembering he was holding the mini equivalent of a bomb. "Shit!"

It flung him through the air. But at least it broke the glass. Unfortunately, the blast had also attracted the attention of walkers. I jumped out and lifted down the Morales siblings, watching Shane guide Josie through the field to his car. Louis and Eliza went with Rick and Lori in the RV as I leapt over a barrier towards Daryl's car. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in. I could see the outline of a small girl in Shane's car and cried in relief.

The cars rumbled and engines crunched. I placed my hand on Daryl's arm to stop him from pushing down on the pedal. "What?"

"Look." Andrea and Dale were jumping down from the building. He'd done it. The RV windows winded down to let the screams of Lori and Rick escape.

"Dale- Dale get down!" Fire was building up inside the building. Daryl pushed my head down and joined me at the bottom of the seats as the building exploded. The ashes of the CDC, of Jenner and Jacqui and Miranda, rained down on us. We'd lost two members of our group in a day. And we hadn't done a damn thing to stop them.

"Get in, get in, get in. Get in!" As Andrea and Dale entered the RV, I caught a glimpse of the girl- Morales' daughter Eliza, as she stared up at the burning ruins of the CDC. Her eyes glittered with tears. I could hear her weep in my mind. It was mentally seared into my brain forever.

The RV led, and the rest of us followed. The smoke continued to burn as we left behind old thoughts and hopes. Jenner had given us that chance. We'd take it.

Chapter Text

The road had been a long and silent drive. We'd made one stop, gathered around the cars and discussed a plan for when it got dark.

There was a rest stop just a little farther from the outskirts of Atlanta. After a quick scout inside the building, we found only four spooks, which were dispatched quietly. Shane and T-Dog moved shelves and heavy objects to the entrances, covering the windows with as much cloth as they could find.

Rick had us gathered inside the office; everything was beginning to sink in. This group had lost so many people in the last few days. I supposed I could say my group too. I'd trapped us here the moment I made the decision to take care of the two children that had recently been orphaned. Maybe once we were somewhere safer, I could convince someone to take them off my hands so we could leave and go back home. Arkansas was home. I had cousins there, if they hadn't been killed or turned by now.

"So Rick, that plan didn't work out like you planned." Shane commented dryly, crouching down onto his haunches.

"Shane, you be quiet." Lori snapped.

"Wha- Lori, we just watched our only plan go up in flames. Literally. We ain't got enough gas to get anywhere, we barely made it here."

"We'll find somewhere. For now, we need to rest. We need time to mourn the people we lost." With those final words, Rick stood up and stepped outside. Lori suggested that she and Carol could stay in the office with all the kids; I left the three kids under my care with her and left the office.

Behind the till, I rummaged through my backpack for my sleeping bag. Where was it? I could see crackers, ammo, peanut butter, a hatchet- ah! I yanked the sleeping bag out and flung it to the ground. Today, I would rest. Tomorrow, we'd have to figure out our plan to leave.

I didn't sleep for hours. Every time I drifted off, I had nightmares. It was always the same one. Miranda would appear, burned but still recognisable. She'd mouth words I couldn't hear and then morph into her husband, bitten and ragged. And then it would get much more personal; my mother, throat ripped and bloody. Dad, with a bullet in his head. Hunter, my youngest brother, with wounds made by humans, and not monsters. Macon never appeared dead, I usually heard his voice calling for me, but I never saw him.

Even after all those images, it was Lucas that hurt me the most. That stupid face tattoo was glazed with tears as he begged me to shoot him.

As he asked me to do what I knew I had to.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

"We need volunteers, some of the cars need to be left behind

"We need volunteers, some of the cars need to be left behind. We can siphon the gas." Rick explained. Dawn was just breaking over the sky. With no other real plans, Shane had suggested Fort Bennet, again.

"Well, I can give y'all mine." Shane offered. T-Dog and, surprisingly, Daryl, also offered their own cars.

"Okay. So it's settled."

"We'll have to move people around then."

"Okay." Rick agreed. "Carol and Sophia, we'll be with you two. Daryl is on his bike, and everyone else will be in the RV."

Clear of walkers, it looked like a perfect day to be outside. Any other time, I could have been at home, waiting for Dad to finish cooking up a barbeque whilst Mom set up the table with Lucas.

Gas was siphoned from the three cars, and Daryl brought out his bike, which I assumed was Merle's. The SS symbol on the side was definitely something Merle would find funny on a bike. Daryl pulled it up in front of me and, after hesitating, offered to let me sit on the back instead of being in the RV. "S'better than being cramped into that RV."

"Uh, sure." I replied. I knotted my hands together as he swung his leg over the side. This was a lot closer than the truck had been.

We rode out that same day, the RV tailing us as the bike hummed and growled along the roads. The smoke from the CDC danced in the sky behind us as we left Atlanta behind. How long would it be before more of us died? How much time before we all died?

The long road left room to think.

Chapter Text

We'd been travelling two days. Jacqui and Miranda had died the day before last, something that stuck in all of our minds. The road was long, and we'd only stopped for a couple of hours rest before moving.

I clung to Daryl's waist as lightly as I could without crushing him. The only other motorbike I'd ever been on had been Lucas', who had driven like a maniac and liked to make sharp turns. The wind blew my hair into my face, making it very hard to see.

The bike's roars softened to a purr as we pulled up in front of a pile up of cars. The interstate stank of corpses and rot. From my view on the bike, I could see the outlines of bodies sat in the cars, all shapes and sizes. It was only when I saw the outline of a baby car seat that I decided I'd seen enough.

"We should go through, see if we can find a way through." Daryl mumbled, revving the bike back to life. "you got my back?"

"Sure thing." We manoeuvred our way through the car wreckage, cautious and alert. A lot of cars usually meant lots of people, dead or alive. I made note of some cars; ones that had canned food in the open trunks, or had backpacks piled in the back seats. We could use all of that later.

"RV could fit through that gap there. Don't know if there's anythin' up ahead after that."

"I could get off the bike and look?" I suggested. Daryl shook his head.

"Nah. Best not go off alone right now. 'Sides, don't want you tryin' to skip out on us." My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to figure out what he meant. "yeah, I know. Rick heard you and your sister discussin' leavin' at some point."

"Oh really?"

"Uh huh. They don't think you'll stick around long." He said, turning the bike back around to go tell the others what we had found.

"And what about you? Do you think I'm gonna stick around?" He went quiet. The RV appeared in sight, as well as Dale's head stuck out the window.

"See a way through?" The old man asked. Daryl nodded, and turned the bike around again to lead Dale through the cars. We barely even made it past the first few rows before the RV began to sputter and smoke. Guess our makeshift radiator hose replacement had finally given out.

With the RV immobile, there was no point trying to move on yet. The sight of dirty and tired survivors piling out of cars was becoming a recurring image these days. Dale yanked the charred hose replacement out of the RV. "Well Liz, I guess that's not gonna work anymore. Can't say I didn't try as best I could."

Shane groaned, rubbing the back of his head with vigour. "So what you're saying is, we're stranded?"

"Until we find something to get this working, yes." Dale confirmed, slapping the hood of the Winnebago.

"Don't get too worked up over it, man," T-Dog chimed in. "we're surrounded by cars. Gotta something we can use around here."

"He's right," I added, popping the trunk of an abandoned car. Inside was a mix of canned goods and clothes. "We can probably find everything we need somewhere on this highway if we look hard enough."

Lori crossed her arms, "I don't feel good about taking things that belonged to the dead." others in the group looked at each other, debating her words.

"Sometimes you're not going to get the choice." I said quietly. Lori screwed up her eyes and turned away. She was a compassionate woman, I had to give her that much. But there was no room for compassion for the dead right now. We needed it, they didn't. It was plain survival.

"Okay," Rick interjected. "we spread out and search for things we need- food, water and gas most of all. Nobody goes too far out of shouting distance, and keep an eye out for walkers everywhere."

I followed Carol and Lori, trailing Josie and the Morales siblings along with me. I'd damned myself in promising to take care of them. Arkansas was out of the picture for now. I'd have to grit my teeth and make the most of my situation.

Lori slowed as we continued walking, stepping in line with me. She leaned over and whispered, "Anything about this seem not right to you?"

I nodded slowly. She was right. With the number of cars blocking the interstate, we should have encountered a fair few walkers by now. Where were they? It was completely abandoned, save for a few corpses.

"I'm gonna talk to Carol, make sure none of the kids wander too far. I don't trust this." She jogged ahead to catch up with Carol, who was rummaging through an open car trunk with Carl.

I whistled to Josie and the Morales kids. "Hey."

"What?"

"Don't go too far. If you can't see me, you're not close enough." They nodded and continued peering through car windows. I uneasily glanced at Eliza, and noticed she was clutching a small, raggedy cloth doll in her arms. Her face was blank, almost wiped clean of any emotion. When we had studied reactions to traumatic events in college, they had taught us about different ways people adapted to mass losses. At this moment, if I had to study Eliza, I'd have guessed she had slipped into some form of shock.

I turned away, throwing myself into the task of gathering supplies in a large suitcase I found. People had packed ammo, food, meds, everything we could use. I swept it all into the suitcase.

"Can I help?" a small voice behind me asked. I turned back and saw Carol's daughter, Sophia. She was peering over my shoulder at the suitcase filled with supplies.

"Uh, sure," I replied hesitantly. I spotted Carol a few cars down, showing Lori a scarlet red top. I hoped she knew Sophia was over here. "you can go through the rest of these backpacks and pull out stuff we can use."

"Okay," she took the remaining bags from me and began unzipping them eagerly. "Umm, what am I looking for exactly?"

"Food, ammo, any sort of weapon, really. And medicine, of course." I answered her.

I continued to fill the suitcase, shoving as much as possible inside.

"Liz! Lori!" My head twisted around to look at Rick. His face was pale, his eyes were gleaming with panic. He spoke to us in a harsh whisper, "under the cars, now!"

I peered over the cars. My heart stopped for a second as I glimpsed several walkers shambling towards us. Seven heads turned into twenty, which turned into more. It was a whole herd coming our way.

I grasped Sophia's shoulders and forced her under the car with me, holding her closely to my side. I looked around at the other cars, praying I caught a glimpse of reddish-copper plaits. Josie was under a car close to us, tucked into a ball. She caught me staring and smiled. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I watched a dozen bloody and bruising ankles stumble past. I couldn't make a sound, one wrong move could result in the walkers hearing me, and then there would be no escape. I was right, we should have left the morning after the quarry attack. This had been such a stupid idea.

I kept my eyes on Josie, and occasionally drifted to look at Eliza and Louis. I'd promised their mother I would look after them; so far, I was failing. I'd taken my eye off of them for less than a few minutes.

The herd was beginning to thin out already, fewer and fewer legs passed by me. Eventually, I could see no sign of walkers passing by. I looked to the Morales siblings to see that Louis had had the same thought and was beginning to crawl back out from under the car. I couldn't even shout to tell him to stop. He was halfway out before a walker, noticing the little boy's hand, dropped down to try and grab him. He cried out and shuffled backwards, forcing his sister to get out from under the car on the other side. They both escaped the walker but found themselves facing two instead of one.

My heart was beating fast, and the blood pounded through my veins as I watched those two kids disappear into the woods with walkers right behind them. Another set of legs appeared, ones I recognised. Rick had appeared out of nowhere and followed suit, disappearing into the woods.

"Christ." I breathed, shuffling out from under the car to jog towards the area they'd disappeared into. "How the hell did nobody see those walkers?"

"Oh god- Liz, they were behind the cars." Carol answered tearfully, she ran at Sophia and scooped her up in a tight embrace, clutching her as if afraid a walker would suddenly come and chase Sophia too. "I should have been paying more attention, I-"

"A blind spot." Shane added. "No way anyone could have seen those walkers. Ain't your fault Carol."

"He's right honey." Lori wrapped her arm around Carol's shoulders.

"Hey!" Daryl yelled, wading through the cars, supporting T-Dog, who was paling by the minute. His arm was torn open and spurting blood with every step. "He lost a hell lotta blood."

"Get him into the RV." Shane commanded.

We waited for Rick to return with the two kids. Andrea sat on a bonnet, looking rather gloomy; she was slumped over, her shoulders arching like she was carrying a bag of rocks.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, lifting myself up next to her.

"Nothin', it's just..." She unfolded a cloth to reveal the parts of a disassembled gun. "I couldn't put the gun back together. Maybe I could'a killed that walker if I knew how to put it back together."

"And then you firin' would've attracted every walker to us and gotten most of us killed." I argued. She fiddled with the pieces of her gun.

"I mean- I thought..." she trailed off, glancing into the dark woods. I thought back to the CDC and knew exactly what had gone through her mind. Almost as soon as she stopped talking, Andrea shook herself from her mind and continued, her voice growing stronger. "I couldn't just let that walker kill me. I fought back."

"Good," I responded. "you did pretty damn well, considering how close it came." Andrea rested her head against my shoulder as the light of the day faded. The sky turned red, bathing the ground in the soft hue of blood. My mind wandered to Eliza and Louis. I couldn't imagine what was going through their minds right now. I'd all but killed their father. They watched their mother give up on life and then were left in my hands.

The branches below the metal railing that blocked the interstate began to snap. The rustling brought everyone running.

Lori and Shane bounded out of the RV and rushed to see what was coming up the embankment. Rick's face withdrew from the trees, followed by the rest of him as he hoisted himself up the slope and back onto the road. He was panting, and there were flecks of blood on his shirt. He looked around, before finally speaking.

"They- they ain't back yet?"

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

The search party went out immediately and left everyone else to worry and fret

The search party went out immediately and left everyone else to worry and fret. I couldn't help but picture the different scenarios that could have happened instead: if Carl had run, or Sophia, or my sister. She'd fallen asleep waiting; I left her in the RV.

Andrea had retreated to the RV with Lori. Carol, unlike the other two, had stayed outside with Sophia. She stood by the railing, waiting, watching. We locked eyes, and I knew she had been plagued with the same thoughts as I had, imagining her own daughter out in the woods.

"You think they'll be back soon?" she tentatively questioned. I shrugged and leaned against the bonnet of a car. "God, I can't imagine what's going through their heads. If it was my baby..." Her voice faded as she stroked Sophia's hair.

"But it wasn't Carol." I reassured her.

"I know," Carol smiled at me. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "You made sure of it, thank you."

"Weren't nothing," I waved off her kindness. I felt my face getting hotter, turning a light shade of pink. "anyone here would've done the same." No sooner had I finished speaking, Shane and Glenn retreated from the forest. Their boots were caked with mud and leaves. Both men looked defeated.

"Did you find anything?" Lori flung the R.V. door open and looked between the two men, pressing for an answer.

"They weren't where Rick left 'em, that's for sure." Shane replied. "one set of prints started to head back our way, and then followed the other set further into the woods."

"It's weird." Glenn agreed, pulling himself over the railing. "It's like they just changed their minds."

"Or got scared of something." I suggested. I thought of the walkers who had passed through. Any one of them could have wandered off the path and come across the kids.

"No other footprints." Shane interjected, heading inside the RV to tell the others. Glenn turned to Carol and me.

"Hey, how's T-Dog?" He asked.

"Not as bad as he was before." Carol replied, prodding Sophia lightly towards the R.V. to sit with Carl and Dale. "Lori and I cleaned him up. But the meds we have won't be enough to stop his wound from getting infected."

"What would we need?" Glenn began to look through his backpack. I stepped away from the bonnet and pulled his hand away.

"Won't find anything on the interstate, we need real antibiotics, not pain meds."

"And we don't have any?" Carol shook her head. Glenn sighed, and pulled his cap further down onto his head.

"I hope they're back soon, it's getting dark." The sky was almost violet; it was beautiful despite everything going on. The sun had set behind the RV and left room for the moon to begin to rise.

"What if they find them and something happened?" Although he hadn't said it aloud, I knew what he meant. Rick would never be able to shoot either one of the kids if they were bitten. If they had turned, maybe, but not enough time had passed for either to have become a walker.

The sky got darker and darker as time passed by, and there was still no sign of Daryl and Rick, or the kids. Every so often, Lori would leave the RV, scan the surroundings beyond the rails, and then shuffle back inside without a word to any of us.

It was Glenn who noticed Daryl and Rick climbing back up the embankment. "Oh God, they're back." There were no children in sight. "Did the tracks show up?"

"Their trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light."

"Lotta things can happen between now and tomorrow morning." I commented. There were murmurs of agreement amongst the group.

"Out in the dark's no good." Daryl argued. "We'd just be tripping over ourselves. More people get lost."

"I know this is hard. But I'm asking everyone not to panic. We know they were out there, so we have to make this an organized effort. Daryl knows the woods better than anybody. I've asked him to oversee this." Rick explained the situation. It didn't stop people from grimacing. Leaving two small, frightened children outside in the woods at night didn't sit well with me.

"I can track." I admitted. "I'm not great at it, but I ain't too bad." Years of hunting with my dad and Lucas had taught me self-sufficiency. I could hunt and kind of track, but skinning was something I always left to Dad.

Carol looked down at Daryl's pants, and her face turned a sickening shade of green. "Is that blood?" This elicited louder murmurs from the group as they tried to get a look at the darkening red patch on Daryl's pant leg. Daryl himself looked uncomfortable with all the attention and tried his hardest to withdraw into himself.

"We took down a walker." At the alarmed looks on everyone's faces, he tried to reassure us. "There was no sign it was ever anywhere near either of them."

"How can you know that?"

"We cut the sumbitch open, made sure." The thought of cutting open a walker to look for the remains of a child turned my stomach. I'd seen a lot of shit in the last few weeks, but gutting a walker was where I drew the line. I couldn't imagine looking through its innards, and I certainly didn't know what I'd do if I actually found human flesh. I'd been in charge of looking after those kids, it should've been me who went after them. Me.

I tried to put that part of me to the back of my mind. The boy had made the decision to get out from under the car, I couldn't have done anything to stop him. They couldn't have gotten too far, they were two kids aged twelve and eight.

Two terrified kids who were alone in the dark with monsters roaming around.

"It was my only option. The only choice I could make." Rick tried to reassure us. He didn't even sound all that convinced. Shane cleared his throat to try and save Rick from another onslaught of questions.

"We, uh, we should all get some rest. C'mon folks, find somewhere to sleep." With Josie still asleep in the RV, I was able to find a small, clean car to sleep in. Dale gave me one of his many fleece blankets and bid me goodnight.

Tomorrow, we'd have to find those kids.

Chapter Text

A dozen weapons were laid out on the bonnet of the RV. Carl had apparently found them yesterday, according to Lori. They were all melee. Sharp machetes and knives and hatchets. I already had all three (The hatchet was in my bag, whilst the machete and hunting knife were kept on my person), though I'd likely use my bow in an emergency anyway.

"Everybody takes a weapon." Andrea examined the collection and scoffed.

"These aren't the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?"

"You learn how to put a gun together and suddenly you need one?" I questioned, raising my eyebrow. She glared at me, her eyes flitted down to stare at my gun, which was kept nice and tight in its holster. Her need for a gun confused me. She'd barely learned to put hers together, and suddenly it was the only thing capable of protecting her. "I know what I'm doing with mine, do you?"

"We've been over this Andrea. Daryl, Rick, Liz and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." Shane explained, handing out the melee weapons.

"It's not the trees I'm worried about."

"If you have a gun, I think we should be worried about 'em." I muttered under my breath. Only Carol heard me, and she placed her hand over her mouth to avoid laughing aloud and bringing Andrea's wrath down on her.

"Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it's game over for all of us," Shane countered her aggressively. "so you need to get over it." Andrea huffed and snatched a knife from the line.

"The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side," Daryl laid out the plans for everyone, making sure we all heard. "chances are they'll be by the creek. It's their only landmark."

"Everybody assemble your packs." I jogged to the RV to check on Sophia and Josie, who were both staying here with Dale and T-Dog. We'd already lost two kids; Carol and I agreed that it was best if they stayed safe here.

Josie looked up at me as I sat down and grinned. "Hi. Are you leaving yet?"

"In a minute. Just wanted to make sure you're okay." She handed Sophia something red -a crayon- and hugged me tightly. "Woah. Uh, ow, Josie."

"Come back quickly. I don't like being alone." My heart went out for her. She was ten years old, and already she'd lost almost everyone she knew.

"You're not alone, you have Sophia."

"S'not the same." Whilst we held each other, I heard a raised voice from the door of the RV. Curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped outside after saying goodbye to the kids.

Andrea's voice hit me like a slap to the face. I saw Shane waiting for her by the railings, looking vaguely annoyed by what was happening in front of him.

"...NO, Dale, you're doing it for YOU. You need to stop." Andrea stood outside, hands on hips. She had cornered Dale. "What do you think's gonna happen? I'm gonna stick it in my mouth and pull the trigger the moment you hand it to me?" Ah. This was about that goddamn gun. Despite being told she couldn't carry one, she was still so goddamn adamant.

"I know you're angry at me. That much is clear. But if I hadn't done what I did, you'd be dead now."

"Jenner gave us an option. I chose to stay-"

"You chose suicide-"

"So what's that to you? You barely know me-"

"I know Amy's death devastated you-" It was the final straw for Andrea. She went red and snapped at him faster than a crocodile could get out of water.

"Keep her out of this! This is not about Amy. This is about us. And if I decided that I had nothing left to live for, who the hell are you to tell me otherwise? To force my hand like that?"

"I saved your life-" Dale protested weakly; Andrea cut him off with a sharp snarl and more acidic words.

"No, Dale. I saved yours. You forced that on me. I didn't want your blood on my hands and that is the only reason I left that building. What did you expect? What, I'd have some kind of epiphany? Some life-affirming catharsis?"

"Maybe just a little gratitude."

"Gratitude? I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by drooling freaks. That was my choice. You took that away from me, Dale-"

"But-"

"But you know better? All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless horrific nightmare we live every day. I wasn't hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale. And you expect gratitude?"

"I don't know what to say."

"I'm not your little girl. I'm not your wife. And I am sure as hell not your problem. That's all there is to say," She noticed me staring as I walked past. "what?"

"Look, I get why you're mad, but you ain't getting a gun." I answered her. She stood, seething, as I leapt over the railing and joined the others in the forest. "Are you comin' or what?"

I heard her follow me as we descended into the woods. Deeper and deeper, we walked, scanning the lowest trees and thickest bushes in a poor attempt to spot Louis and Eliza.

We walked for an hour with no luck. Daryl and I searched for any signs of disturbance in the forest; footprints, marks on the trees, even blood if it came to it (I sincerely hoped it wouldn't). We'd also developed a system with Rick: if anything was spotted that could possibly point to the kids being hurt or worse, we would investigate in a pair first to avoid panic.

Rick spotted what looked like a smear of blood on a tree. I followed him over and took a closer look. "Could be blood. Looks a little thick though."

"Could've begun drying." He suggested, I agreed with him. Still, would it have dried so quickly? And like that? Blood didn't usually have that sheen or look as bubbly. I thought back to the last time I'd seen something like this and took the chance. "What the-" Rick watched in horror as I swiped the 'blood' from the tree with my finger. It was sticky and gloopy, and actually more transparent when it was on my finger.

"Rick, look. Look at the tree," He leaned in close and stared at the spot the 'blood had been'.

"What did ya'll find?" Shane shouted from behind us. I held up my finger to show them and licked it clean.

"Sap. It's some sort of maple tree, I think." As Rick and I walked back to the group and muttered "if we had a spile I could'a gotten us some sap, boiled it up for us." He stalked further ahead after a small, albeit forced smile; despite saying he forgave me for killing that man in Atlanta, I believed some disgust lingered. My decision to end Jim's life had only worsened our relationship. He trusted me to watch his back, and I trusted him, but any humour between us was gone. Before we'd left Atlanta, he'd promised not to tell people in the group about what had happened, and how we had gotten the guns back. I couldn't rely on Glenn or T-Dog in the same way.

The forest continued to grow ahead of us, winding and twisted trees blocked some paths, and made others. Leaves crunched and fell around us; fallen soldiers of the woods that had swallowed two of our members whole.

Daryl stopped us several feet away from a tent. It was worn with age, coated in grime and fallen brown leaves. It was closed up; either the owner had wandered off, or they were still inside. We had no way of knowing what would happen if we opened the flap.

"They could be in there." Shane whispered, edging closer and closer.

"Could be a whole bunch of things in there." Daryl countered. Rick began to call out softly. If Louis and Eliza were inside, we didn't want to scare them.

Daryl snaked towards the entrance of the tent and slowly, slowly lifted the zipper and opened the tent. Louis and Eliza weren't inside. The smell of rotting flesh permeated the air like a bad perfume. I gagged, stumbling backwards until Daryl steadied me with a firm, calloused hand against my back. Whoever was in there had been dead longer than a night. "It ain't them." Daryl called. He was followed by audible sighs, both relieved and worried.

"We need to hurry this up," I said, slinging my knife back into its holster. "the longer they're out here, the less likely we find 'em alive."

"Maybe we keep that to ourselves for now, huh?" Rick hissed. Shane rolled his eyes, and I joined him in it. Hiding the facts from the others wouldn't help us. It was just making more room for pain if the worst happened.

The echo of bells rang out through the trees. Everyone's head turned simultaneously to try and source the sound. They continued to ring, loud and clear.

I focused in on the sound, and realised it was from the east of us. "This way." I called, fighting through the foliage, towards the sound. The others followed behind me, trampling the remains of the branches beneath us.

"What son of a bitch is out here ringing church bells?" Shane asked, catching up to me.

"Could be the kids, or someone looking for help." I suggested. He conceded and went ahead.

We came to the top of a small hill, bursting from the woods. Below us was a small, white church, surrounded by rows of graves. It had to be it.

Rick pushed past Shane and I, sprinting down the hill at the church.

"Can't be it," Shane muttered to me. We followed Rick down the hill. "It ain't got no steeple."

"I know." I replied. We were already setting ourselves up for disappointment.

As we climbed the church steps, Rick threw open the doors. The smell of rotting flesh hit my nostrils almost immediately. Four corpses rose from the pews- a bride, a farmer, a teenage girl and the pastor. They noticed us and began to snarl.

Rick beckoned for Shane, Daryl and I to help. I crept around to the teenage girl, who turned to me and snarled. I wished she had stayed facing the other way. Live maggots crawled in what was left of her eye socket, and her lip hung to her chin. I unsheathed the machete from my belt and jammed it through her skull. She crumpled to the floor and bled out onto the carpet, and I wondered if I would go to hell for killing something in a church that was already dead.

Rick screamed aloud in frustration. Nobody was here but the walkers. Our sign of hope had been quickly crushed. Shane placed a firm hand on his shoulder, repeating his words from before. "I'm telling you, it's the wrong church. It's got no steeple, Rick. There's no steeple."

"What other churches would there be?" I asked. The bells began to chime again, the sound was deafening, but I could tell it was coming from outside.

Glenn and Daryl rushed around to the side and pulled down some sort of mechanism. The bells immediately stopped. Daryl huffed and held up the electronic device. "A timer. It's on a timer."

"But a church means we're near somewhere with people, right?" Carol stated, wrapping herself in her cardigan. "They might have seen a town or something."

"Maybe." I said, she looked at me and mouthed ' thank you '. I hadn't known Carol long, but Josie had told me what an asshole her husband had been. I could only imagine how many times she had suggested something, only to be shot down because she seemed weaker and soft spoken. I followed her back into the church and allowed her to pray for Louis and Eliza. While I didn't believe it would do too much good, I couldn't bring myself to stop her.

With all this time to spare, I decided to worry about my sister. Would she be okay back at the RV with Dale and Sophia? T-Dog was sick, he wasn't much use, if they were attacked, he wouldn't be able to help much. An old man, a sick man and two little girls. They were defenseless against anything that came at them.

Reluctantly, everyone but Shane and Andrea walked back inside the church, waiting for a new plan. Rick sat at the altar, head in hands, mumbling to Lori as she held him.

I sat by Glenn and Carol, pulling out a few arrows to sharpen.

"What do you think is gonna happen, then?" Glenn asked. He fumbled with the hilt of his machete awkwardly.

"I don't know," I responded honestly. We'd lost our only lead, and it would get darker soon. We'd have to head back or risk getting caught outside at night. "Guess we try again tomorrow."

"How long can that go on, really?" Glenn asked.

"As long as it needs to," Carol interrupted, staring down at Glenn sharply. He ducked his head into his chest. "We can go when we've found them. I'd hope none of you would leave if it was my Sophia."

"Can't sit around waiting for another herd to pass through," I reasoned, pushing my arrows back into their quiver. "I don't wanna leave them anymore than you, but sooner or later we have to understand that there's not much we can do with the resources we have."

Carol folded her arms and wrapped her green shawl tighter around her shoulders.

I watched as Rick stood up, barrelling down the centre of the pews and outside into the sunlight. The rest of us scurried out after him.

He was already speaking to Shane by the time I came down the steps. They both turned to us. Shane cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Right, ya'll, listen in. Me and Rick have decided it's best we send the rest of y'all back down the creek to the interstate. Daryl, you're in charge. Me and Rick are gonna go further east, see if we can find a town the kids might've seen."

Daryl piped up from the back, "You sure splitting us up is the best call?"

"Only one we got to make right now," Rick replied. Carl rushed forward, standing beside his father. "what is it?"

"I wanna come with you." The boy announced. Rick looked at Lori, who shrugged, as if to say, 'your call'.

Rick sighed in defeat. "Fine, but you stay by my side at all times, okay?" Carl nodded eagerly.

"Right, y'all head back now, we'll be back before nightfall." Shane called, heading the other way. Lori gave Carl a kiss goodbye and followed us back into the woods.

Lori gave Carl a kiss goodbye and followed us back into the woods

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

The forest was peaceful. There was an air of serenity that worked like an invisible mist, shrouding us. Even so, it was best that we didn't let our guard down. It only took one walker to turn the entire group into a panic-driven mosh pit.

"So this is it? This the whole plan?" Andrea complained. In the short distance we had travelled, I was already sick of hearing her voice. We trekked further and further into the woods, relying only on Daryl to get us back to the RV without losing anyone else.

"It's the best we've got." Daryl responded. I bit back a laugh as I watched him roll his eyes.

"Carrying knives and pointy sticks." Andrea added bitterly. She glanced down at Lori and sneered. "I see you have a gun."

Lori's face morphed. Within seconds, her features had twisted into an ugly expression. Andrea, sensing that she had said something wrong, tried to back away and apologise. Lori just cut her off and began to rant.

"Why, you want it? Here, take it. I'm sick of the looks you're giving me." She thrust the gun at Andrea, who took it hesitantly. "all of you. When those kids ran, he didn't hesitate, did he? Not for a second. I don't know that any of us would have gone after them the way he did or made the hard decisions that he had to make or that anybody could have done it any differently. Anybody?" Nobody responded. I looked down at my boots, suddenly fascinated with the way I had tied my laces. "y'all look to him and then you blame him when he's not perfect. If you think you can do this without him, go right ahead. Nobody is stopping you." Lori finished. Her face was cherry red, and I could almost make out cartoonish steam emitting from her ears. Everyone stayed silent; if we spoke, there was a chance that she would tear our heads off without a second thought. Maybe before, I would've agreed with her, but Rick made his decisions based on his time as a cop, rather than his survival instincts. If we hadn't headed to the CDC, we might have still had Jacqui and Miranda with us. His compassion, all that made him the good, kind person he was, could end up getting us all killed.

Daryl, finally sensing that we were never going to move anywhere if nobody spoke, suggested moving. We barely even made it that far before a sound echoed throughout the trees.

The sound of a gunshot, and it had come from Rick and Shane's direction.

"What the hell was that?" Glenn yelped, spinning around to face the direction we'd came. I wrapped my arms around Lori and pulled her back as she attempted to run back to the church. Back to Rick. I really couldn't afford to lose Rick's wife before he even came back to the group.

"Let go!" She snapped, trying her hardest to pry my arms off of her. Unfortunately, I held the advantage. Lori was a 5'7", thin and bony. I was 5'11" and used a bow and arrow, which took serious arm strength. She barely even moved one of my fingers from her forearm.

"You're no good wandering around on your own." She continued to struggle as I yanked her back towards the group. "Don't make me drag your ass all the way back to the interstate Lori."

After she had eventually calmed down and stormed off the way we were meant to, I hung back to step into line with Daryl. "Hey."

"What?" He spat back, shouldering his crossbow. I refused to let his sour mood sway me from getting the answers I wanted.

"You didn't answer me, back on the bike."

"Didn't think you needed one." He stared at me like I'd grown an extra head.

"I don't. But I want it." He watched the leaves move underneath him; I noticed that he was actually shorter than me, though not by much. Before, I'd been too busy trying to correct my mistake with Merle Dixon and listening to him run his mouth to notice. It wasn't important to me, but it wasn't often I ignored things like that. Perhaps it was because, unlike most people, Daryl's body language was hard to read. I usually could rely on how people reacted physically to things. That way I didn't have to talk to them. With Daryl, a conversation was necessary, otherwise I never knew what he was thinking. Hell, I could talk to Daryl and still not know what he was thinking.

"We should send someone to look for Rick before we get back." Lori spoke before Daryl had the chance to answer me. He took the chance to back away and walk by Carol instead.

"Try not to worry about it." I suggested. I wished I could take my own advice. My body had went cold as soon as the shot had rang out, ice slivering along my bones and seeping even into my teeth.

"It was a gunshot. We all heard it. Why one- why just one gunshot?" Lori quizzed, looking back worriedly.

"Maybe they took down a walker." Andrea suggested, much to Lori's apparent amusement, as she snorted and shook her head lightly.

"Please don't patronize me. You know Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker, or Shane. They'd do it quietly."

"There's nothing we can do about it, anyway." Daryl added, "can't run around these woods chasing echoes."

"So, what do we do?" Carol asked.

"Same as we've been. Beat the bush for the kids, work our way back to the highway. I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV." Daryl passed Lori, leading everyone once again. We trailed further through the trees to the interstate. It felt like we were walking longer than before. Every step we took felt like a step away from finding those kids.

"God, I just feel horrible going back to the interstate without finding the kids. I just pray we find them before they wind up like Amy- Oh!" Carol clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. She looked at Andrea and apologised. "That's the worst thing I've ever said."

"We're all hoping and praying with you, for what it's worth."

"I'll tell ya what it's worth-" Daryl cut in, "Not a damn thing. It's a waste of time, all this hopin' and prayin'. We're gonna locate those kids. They're gonna be just fine. Ya'll need to stop assumin' the worst."

"Good for you. Some of us are tired of all this trekkin'." I hmmphed and kicked up leaves in my path. "They've gotten further than I thought two kids would."

"I just wanna know why they veered off track like they did." Glenn said, swinging his machete aimlessly.

"Careful with that."

"Right. Sorry."

The forest continued to stretch farther and farther. It would be nightfall by the time we made it back to the interstate. Rick, Shane and Carl still had yet to catch up with us.

The musky smell of damp wood and the forest greenery was beginning to sting my nose. If it started raining I was going to be upset. Rain was not my thing. When Dad took Lucas and I hunting in the rain, I would refuse to leave the car.

Where could Eliza and Louis have gone? Rick should have told them to stay right where they were. He never should have let them try to make it back on their own. A twelve-year-old and an eight-year-old.

"Where the hell are they?" Lori asked. Rick's wife had been growing more and more frustrated by the minute. Rick had been missing for much longer than we'd expected them to be. "how much farther?"

"Not much..." Daryl scanned the sky and the surrounding area. "Maybe a hundred yards as the crow flies."

"Too bad we're not crows." Andrea grumbled. She continued to mumble and moved away from the group. I lost sight of her in the bushes.

"Andrea?" There was a loud wheezing in her direction, and then gargled groans. Soon, Andrea began to scream. "Daryl!" Shit.

"No-no-Oh, no!" There was a softer sound, a rhythmic thumping of- horse hooves? I burst through the treeline in time to see the walker knocked down by a woman on a horse. She skidded to a halt in front of us and demanded to speak to Lori. Andrea, clearly still startled, lay in the grass behind her; she hadn't even attempted to withdraw her blade.

"I'm Lori."

"Rick sent me- you've got to come now." The woman spoke quickly. That was what had taken Rick so long? Jesus, how far had he gotten? "there's been an accident- Carl's been shot. He's still alive but you've gotta come now. Rick needs you- just come!" Lori's face drained of all blood; I could almost see her heart thumping through her chest. She unfroze and rushed to take the woman's hand. Daryl, ever the pessimist, tried to stop her.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! We don't know this girl. You can't get on that horse."

"Rick said you had others on the highway, that big traffic snarl? Backtrack to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox- name's Greene- hee-yah!" With that, the woman disappeared with Lori into the forest. I almost giggled- giggled- as I noticed Glenn staring after her like a dumbstruck teenage fangirl.

Daryl frowned and stormed ahead to reach the interstate, stopping only to put a bolt into the head of the walker the woman had knocked down. "Shut up."

Chapter Text

The R.V. came back into sight after almost another ten minutes of walking. I'd been stung by nettles more than once, and my mood had taken a dark trip south. Glancing around, I had reason to believe everyone felt the same.

I thought about Lori running off with the strange girl, and what had happened to Carl. A sickening pulse was hammering away at my gut, twisting and pushing my insides. I had surprised myself, wishing the boy was okay, and hoping I'd be able to see him soon.

I clenched my teeth together, pushing aside those thoughts. If I ever wanted to get back to Arkansas, I had to disregard any attachment I had for these people. It would make saying goodbye that much harder.

Dale rushed to the side of the railings as we pulled ourselves up the small bank. "What happened- I thought I heard yelling and-" Andrea stormed past him, cutting Dale off as she entered the R.V., slamming the door behind her.

Josie and Sophia ran to Carol and me. I scooped Josie up into a bone-crushing hug.

"Daryl, what happened?" Dale asked.

"Give me a break, old man," Daryl snapped, throwing his bag to the ground. "some girl came flyin' outta nowhere and took Lori."

"Took her?" Dale cried, gesturing wildly. "and you let her?"

"She knew her name, Dale," I interjected in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. There was no need for a panic- not yet, anyway. "She said Carl's been shot."

"Carl?" Sophia asked, glancing up at Carol worriedly. She bit her thumbnail. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"We don't know," I placed my quiver on the floor gently, letting go of Josie. "The girl gave us an address, said Rick wants us to meet there."

The arguments began after it was suggested that we all head up to the farm now. Carol bit her lip and said that it would be wrong to leave without the kids.

"Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak."

"What if they come back and we're not here? It could happen."

"Okay. We gotta plan for this." Daryl chimed in. "I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave them some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV." Daryl was surprising me. When we'd first met, he'd disliked everyone and anyone who was against him. In only a few days he'd started to integrate with the group. A part of me wished I could say the same, whilst the other part urged me to not make any emotional attachments, to wire a car and peel out of here the first chance I got. Less drama, Josie and me. Not as many people to watch.

Not as many people to watch out for you either.

"If the RV is stayin', I am too." Dale announced. Carol also demanded to stay but was reluctant to allow Sophia to stay behind too.

"I'll hang back too." I decided. "My bow is a lot quieter than anyone else's guns."

The RV door opened, and Andrea's mop of dirty blonde hair spilled out the side. "I'm in."

"Is that a good idea?" I asked. She went red again and opened her mouth to argue. "No, I don't mean it like that. But until you're better with a blade, I think maybe you should head up to the farm, try to scout the surroundings, see what its weaknesses are." She perked up, possibly at the idea of being given a responsibility. "I'll even let you carry your gun."

"Now wait, maybe-" I cut Dale's feeble protests off and asked for Andrea's gun. He hesitated for a moment, before squeezing past Andrea to retrieve the gun from whatever cranny he'd hidden it in. Dale returned a second later with Andrea's gun in hand. He handed it to her, and she tucked it away, nodding to me in thanks.

I shrugged when Dale shot me a withering glare. "Gotta learn to trust her at some point, old man. She's had plenty of chances to end her life, and she's still here." He sighed, apparently agreeing that I had a point. But the way he was looking at me... I knew, straight away, that something was off. He'd been more than fine with me before we'd arrived at the interstate.

"Well, if you're all staying then I'm-"

"Not you, Glenn- you're going. Take Carol's Cherokee."

"Me?" He whined. "Why is it always me?"

"You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on-- But most importantly, you have to get T-Dog there, and the kids. This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection. You and Andrea get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics. Because if not, T-Dog will die, no joke." Dale pointed at T-Dog. I had almost forgotten he was there; he had been so quiet. His face was greying, beads of sweat rolled down his head and into his bloodshot eyes.

"What about the ones I gave you?" Josie piped up. I shot her a sharp, questioning glare- what meds had she used?

Josie had the sense to avoid my eyes and hand me a bottle of pills. Cephalexin capsules. "You are god damn lucky I got more of these. I told you not to take them from that bag without my permission-"

"He was sick!" The small girl protested. Her forehead wrinkled, rolling her masses of freckles across her face.

"He's still sick." Dale insisted. Daryl brushed past me to throw Dale a different bottle of pills.

"Doxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class." He stated. Upon seeing the looks the group were giving him, he defended himself. "Merle got the clap on occasion." I pursed my lips in distaste.

"Jesus. That wasn't somethin' I wanted to know."

"What, you ain't ever met someone with the clap before?" He was amused at my discomfort. Dick.

"Lucas thought he'd got it once, from some trashy chick at Prom- I know. Typical backwoods move right? Pickup truck at Prom." I laughed to myself, remembering when Lucas had told me about it.

"You familiar with it?" Daryl asked. Ouch.

"I am not. I'm also going to pretend I never heard you say that." I replied coolly. He huffed, slinking off towards his bike. I wandered a little further along the highway.

I found Carol searching through a car for supplies. She'd already said goodbye to Sophia, who had left with Glenn, T-Dog, Josie and Andrea. Good. It would be safer for them there. "You need any help gathering some supplies?"

"Oh, thank you. I'm not sure how I feel about taking stuff." She held up a silk top- emerald green and expensive looking. "I could never have worn something like this."

"Sure you could. You'd look great in it." She smiled and placed it against her chest.

"It's not that- but, Ed..." Carol trailed off, and looked beyond the horizon, specifically, the direction the car had driven. "Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better to have stayed in the CDC."

"No. Never." I answered, sitting in the trunk of the car.

"And you're one hundred percent sure about that? Louis and Eliza, if they'd stayed in the CDC-"

"They would have died for definite. Out here, they have a chance. They might still be alive."

"But you don't really believe that, do you?" Dammit Carol. Ever the motherly figure, Carol seemed to have a way of knowing when you were lying. My own mother had been great at that; I could count on one hand the amount of times I hadn't been caught lying.

"I think that two nights alone in the woods would be hard even before the walkers. If we find both alive and well, I'd consider it a miracle." I confessed. Carol stayed quiet; she examined the expiration date of a tin of canned peaches before adding it to the bag that would be placed with a sign. We worked in silence, gathering other things- I even placed a box of herb crackers into the supply bag, I didn't really like 'em- and eventually, there was enough for two kids. Daryl and Dale had gathered nearly every water bottle from the truck Shane had found. They were stored neatly in the bedroom.

"You think they made it to the farm yet?" Carol asked me. I shrugged; I wasn't sure of how far away it was.

"Guess we'll have to wait till we get there ourselves." The sky was darkening, and night would descend soon. Eliza and Louis would be spending yet another night in the woods. If they hadn't already ran into walkers today, they're chances of finding one would be increased by tomorrow.

Back in Clarksville, a young boy had gone missing back in 2008. My parents had even joined the search party looking for him. He'd only been missing four days, but he was found dead. Out in the woods, like Eliza and Louis. And that was before walkers rose up and started trying to eat people. There was a very good chance we'd find at least one of the kids bitten and turned. It was just the way things were.

Ouch. My heart panged as I remembered Miranda begging me to protect her kids. I'd let her husband down, and I'd let her down. Damn it. No, damn me. Damn me for making stupid promises to stupid people who I didn't even know.

I didn't even realise that I had zoned out until I felt a heavily wrinkled hand shaking my shoulder. I looked up to see the old man, Dale, throwing me a half smile, half scowl. The hell had I done now?

He sat down beside me and leaned in, whispering under his breath. "I'd like to talk to you, if that's okay." I followed him round the side of the R.V., avoiding questioning glances from Daryl and Carol.

Dale sat down on the camping chair he'd positioned beside the RV and looked up from beneath those bushy eyebrows. "I, uh, I talked to T-Dog today. He told me some... disturbing details from your trip back into Atlanta for Merle Dixon." I knew it. I knew either T-Dog or Glenn would say something. Actually, come to think of it, Glenn hadn't been told about it either.

"And?"

"And he says you killed a man." Dale's entire body seemed to scream 'DISGUST' at me. He sounded partially disappointed, and maybe even a little angry.

"He tried to kill me first. It was self-defence- I've explained this to Rick, so you need to get over it."

"Get over it? You murdered somebody. I don't see how anyone could get over that."

"Have you always been this righteous?" I inquired, seething with anger; angry at T-Dog for telling him, and angry at Dale for trying to make me sound like the bad guy.

"I'm just worried about what killing could do to someone- how it's affected you." I ached to tell him that it wasn't the first time I'd spilled blood, felt the hot splash of heat pour over my fingertips and cascade down my arms. But it was dangerous. One word to anyone, and they'd send me away. Rick was a good man. He believed in the world, and the people in it. I didn't belong here, not after what I'd done.

I left Dale where he was and walked back inside of the RV to cool off. I was majorly pissed off, but I needed to stay focused. I couldn't let Dale guilt me.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

I woke up late into the night as someone elbowed me as they walked past

I woke up late into the night as someone elbowed me as they walked past. Eyes fluttering open, I spotted Carol still fast asleep in the bedroom, and could hear the shuffling footsteps of Dale on the roof of the Winnebago. That only left Daryl.

Quickly pulling on my leather jacket, I speed-walked to catch up with him as he headed into the woods. "Wait, I'll come with you."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Shouldn' be going off alone. Only get more of us lost." I countered, watching as his face fell. He knew I was right.

"I'll find my way back." He grumbled, but he didn't stop me from following him into the trees.

The woods were darker than the interstate. The outline of trees was faint against the pitch black of everything else. Something growled further ahead, and I hoped Daryl would avoid walking that way.

"You usually wander off into forests with strangers?" He said at last. His crossbow was held tightly in his hands as we trekked further into the woods.

"You ain't exactly a stranger."

"Just askin'." He scowled. Great. Now he was the one pissed off. Not that it took much.

"Everybody is strange now. Even the ones you knew before the walkers killed everyone." He absorbed that information and cleared his throat. From the look on his face, he knew it too. I wondered who he had seen change since this had all started. He had a brother; I knew that much. "so, you said you'd be able to find your way back. I take it you know your way around a forest."

"Grew up on the outskirts of one. Went huntin' and trackin' every other day. Got lost once for days when I was nine."

"Christ. How did they find you?"

"Nobody found me. Made my own way back, went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich."

"Merle didn't go looking or anything? What about your parents?"

"It don't matter." I'd hit a touchy subject. His jaw had clenched when Merle had been mentioned and hadn't unclenched again. His eyes were hard and steely.

I changed the subject pretty quickly, instead rambling about the different hunting trips I'd been on with Dad and Lucas. He added in his own half-heartedly, still cold and distant. "-and Lucas never lived it down. Mom would always tease him about getting stuck up that tree, with that huge ass stag parading around like it'd won some sort of fight."

"Shh!" He hissed, pointing the crossbow into the shadows ahead. The growling had gotten extremely loud now. Something swung around in the distance.

It was a walker. He was suspended from a tree by a rope; most of his legs had been chewed away, dripping dark blood into the leaves on the ground. The dark bruises around his neck were an ugly purple against the yellow of his waxy skin. From the knee down, it was all bone, and shredded fabric. "That's some gross shit." I commented, prodding the remains of the walker's legs with a stick.

"There's a note." Daryl said, ripping a piece of worn paper from a tree. "'Got bit, Fever hit, World went to shit, Might as well quit.'"

"How poetic."

"Asshole probably didn't even realise the infection had already made it through most of his system."

"Should we, like, cut him down and kill him or something?" Daryl shook his head. "So we leave him here?"

"Yup. Ain't our fault. Not wastin' an arrow on a walker that ain't gonna hurt nobody." I conceded that he may have a point. "should head back. It'll be gettin' light out soon." He turned away and started to follow our path back to the highway. Remembering my words with Dale earlier, I called out.

"Hey Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Whatever."

"Would you have told anyone about what happened in Atlanta? I mean, with the gang thing..." I trailed off, but it didn't matter. Daryl seemed to know what I meant.

"You didn't do anythin' cause you wanted to." He shifted awkwardly to look me in the eye. Blue eyes met green, and he continued reassuringly. "Rick and T-Dog- they didn't see him punch you or try to strangle you. That cut on your lip ain't from some pansy ass slap." My hand automatically flew to my bottom lip, which had been burst during the incident. It was scabbing over quite nicely. "You got a nasty bruise on your jaw too. Did what you had to." God, he looked so awkward, like he felt uncomfortable being...nice. He turned away again and moved through the forest.

"Hey Daryl?" I asked again, somewhat tentatively. He paused. Daryl didn't turn around, but I saw his head tilt downwards slightly.

"What?"

"I..." I stopped myself. What was I even going to say? Sorry for leaving your brother to die? I was making progress with the hunter, so much more than I'd ever anticipated making. In the short time I'd known Daryl and Merle, I could tell the brothers couldn't be further apart in personalities. There was a part of Daryl that wanted to be with people. He hid it well, but occasionally, the cracks would show. I just had to be careful not to fall in between them.

"Well?" Daryl asked impatiently. He tapped his crossbow against his leg.

I breathed in. "Thank you."

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight breathed through the curtains of Dale's R.V., reaching into the camp bed and gently easing me from sleep. I picked up voices from the other end of the R.V. as I stretched, pulling myself from the bed and stumbling into the kitchen area.

Dale and Daryl looked up from their seats. I nodded to the two men and quickly rummaged through Dale's cupboards, hoping to find something to eat that wasn't canned vegetables.

"Here," Carol slid a plate of sliced peaches across the counter. Somehow, she had found cinnamon and sugar, and rolled the peach slices in them. "You look like you could use these."

I thanked her, taking the plate between my nimble fingers and plucking a slice from the plate. The peach was juicy and sweet, and I had to hold myself back from voicing my appreciation.

Dale excused himself from the kitchen, hobbling outside to sit atop the R.V. again. I slid into the seat he had been using and looked at Daryl, who was busying himself with examining the dirt beneath his fingernails. I carefully pushed the plate towards him. "Want some?"

He shook his head, "Nah, I'm good," Somehow, it felt more awkward than ever speaking with him. I'd pushed too far last night, prodded and probed a little too deep into his past. I wouldn't make the same mistake again. "I'm gonna head out again soon, try and track down the kids before we get off the highway." There was a question hidden in his announcement.

"You want me to join you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Daryl shrugged nonchalantly, like he couldn't care less, but I knew what he really meant. I hadn't spooked him as much as I thought I had. "Maybe you can give me a lesson in tracking."

"How is it you know how to hunt, but not to track?" Carol questioned. I jumped, almost forgetting that she was standing there.

"When my old man took me and my brother hunting as kids, I just did the shootin'," I explained. "I left the tracking and the skinning to my dad, or sometimes Lucas, if he was feelin' up to it."

Daryl whipped his hand across the table, snatching a peach slice from my plate and dropping it into his open mouth. "Sure, I can try to give you the basics, as long as you pay attention."

"Course," I responded, finishing off the peaches. We both got up from the table and headed towards the door. On my way out, I turned to Carol, "make sure Dale knows where we've gone."

"Will do." She called. I followed Daryl back down the bank towards the woods, and he led me to where the trail had last gone cold.

I couldn't understand how he could make anything of it. All I saw was dirt and leaves littering the ground.

Daryl swore. "Knew I should've tried picking it up again earlier. It's not much."

"Can you still track them?" I asked.

"Course," he grunted. "just a bit difficult, is all."

I followed him along the tracks, careful not to step on any marking he pointed out. As we went along, he explained how I could examine the imprints in the ground. How a firmer, deeper imprint indicated running, or a heavier person. His lessons weren't amazing. He was snappy and impatient, and if he thought I wasn't paying attention I was quickly reminded of it. It took all of my strength not to take his bait and bite back. I'd known men like Daryl, way before the lurkers. They used their anger as a shield, hoping someone would fight back and give them a reason to be angry. The only way to get a man like Daryl Dixon to open up was to remain calm and refuse to give in.

But, Lord, the man made it difficult.

I kept a tight grip of my bow as we pushed through the brambles below our feet. Every so often, I would duck as a tree branch came my way, huffing at Daryl. He would say nothing, continuing to stalk the changes in the forest floor.

"Dale knows about what happened in Atlanta," I declared, moving quicker to catch up to him. Daryl simply shrugged. "He's not happy with me."

"What? You thought he'd be throwin' a party or something?" Daryl asked. I winced at the harshness in his voice.

"I didn't expect T-Dog to say anything." I snapped back, feeling the steam rising in my lungs. There were no words that could explain how much my actions made my own skin crawl. If I could talk to the younger me, from two months ago, she'd have called me a monster. That girl was filled with hope for humanity and a deep-seated belief that her family could get through anything. Parent-by parent, sibling-by-sibling, that faith had been chipped away. It had created me.

"What, you thought people were alright with that?" Daryl questioned. He stopped walking and remained planted into the ground. "what you did ain't exactly up to par with everyone else's idea of surviving."

"And what about you?" I folded my arms, staring the hunter in the eyes. They were small, and the lightest blue I'd ever seen. It was looking up at the sky moments before a storm hit. It was the perfect description for Daryl Dixon, in my opinion.

"I get it, kind of," he answered me. His crossbow peaked out from behind his broad shoulders as he shifted in his spot. "You did what you thought you had to, but you ain't always right." I knew where this was going. His brother's face was already flashing back through my mind.

"Look, I know you've been waiting to chew me out for Merle, and-"

"You're damn right!" Daryl spat. His mouth contorted into an animalistic display of aggression, lips pulled back, teeth bared. "he didn't mean nothin' to you, or anybody else. But he was somethin' to me. Yeah, he weren't there all the time, and he was an ass, but he was my brother. And you left him to die there!"

"I was looking out for someone too, Daryl!" I'd moved without realising, pushing further until we were chest-to-chest. His breath was hot and laboured against my cheeks. This had been coming for a while. "she's all I got."

"Merle was all I got, too," Daryl retorted. His voice broke, cracking into shards, scattering throughout the echo of the forest around us. I prayed we were far enough away from the R.V. that they couldn't hear us. "so I ain't got nothin'- and that's on you." He pulled away from me, crashing through the leaves and further into the woods, eyes fixated on what we could only assume were the tracks.

I started to follow him. He whipped around and snarled, "go back, leave me alone!"

"No." I answered stubbornly. I had sat with him on his bike, we'd talked last night, and I had really thought I was finally chipping away at the steely exterior. Daryl would talk to me, he could vent, throw shit, yell at me. If it helped us come to some understanding, I could deal with it.

He growled but didn't bother to resist. There was something graceful in the way he stalked through the woods. His body vibrated with the rage coursing through his body. I could see it in the pink hue of his ears, the tenseness of his muscular form. He held the crossbow tight, ready to anything to lurch from the bushes and attack. I was witnessing a hunter in his prime.

Further and further into the woods I followed him. He hated me for what I'd done to Merle, but I knew men like Daryl. My own brother had been so similar. Which meant that I knew Daryl could eventually come around. I'd have his back until that time.

"Stop," he demanded, throwing his arm out to keep me behind him. I peered around his head to look for whatever he'd found. "see that over there?"

A car was just barely visible through a mound of felled trees. They were small and thin, snapped midway down the trunk. Judging from the tire marks and blood along the grass, this car had veered from the road and crashed.

Daryl dropped into a crouch, and I followed. Silently, he motioned for me to approach the car from the other side. I did as he asked, quietly sneaking along the ground. The sudden lack of noise made me feel uneasy.

A lurker banged against the glass. Daryl and I stood, glancing inside the car for any sign of what had happened. The lurker was female; her face was bloody and bruised, and her nose had been flattened. Beside her was the remains of a man, his entrails pouring over the steering wheel. Clearly, his wife had turned and eaten him.

I made the mistake of glancing into the back seat. My stomach lurched into my throat, and I stumbled backwards, away from the car. Bile rose up. I wasn't able to stop myself from spewing Carol's sugared peaches into the grass.

The back seat was empty but covered in blood. And fastened into the car was a child's bumper seat, coral pink with barely distinguishable unicorns covering it. The window above the bumper seat had been smashed open, and my throat closed as I tried to stop thinking about the reason why.

Daryl came around the side of the car. "Hey, uh... you good?"

"I'm fine." I croaked, pulling myself together. I'd seen worse things than this.

"I think the tracks might've just been-"

"I know." I couldn't let him finish the sentence. I didn't want to think about a child walker breaking itself out of a car and roaming the woods. Not when Josie was so far away from me. Why had I let her go to the farm without me?

"Should head back," Daryl said, stepping around me. "The group ain't gonna wait for much longer."

I nodded in agreement and followed him back through the woods. It was a good thing he was here, or I'd have gotten lost. Nothing looked familiar until we reached the edge of the trees, spotting the R.V. over the interstate. They had rigged up the sign for Louis and Eliza. It was on the bonnet of Carol's car, surrounded with canned foods and several bottles of water.

"Find anything?" Dale asked, climbing down from his lookout post. Daryl shook his head, walking off to start his motorcycle. There was no invite for me to join him this time. I entered the R.V. with a mind full of questions and threw myself down at the table, startling Carol.

She frowned at me, the concern growing in her eyes. I suddenly felt like a moody teenager all over again, faced with the pitying mother who only wanted the best for me.

"Are you okay?" she asked, reaching across the table to gently take my hand. That small gesture sent a ripple of warmth through my chest. It felt weird having someone care for me. It had been a long time since I felt that kind of affection from a motherly figure. Even when my mother had been alive, she'd never been maternal. We'd fought more than we'd hugged. It had been my dad who sang me to sleep or read me stories.

"I'm good, Carol," I replied. "I just had an interesting walk."

"I noticed you and Daryl were pretty... off when you came back," Carol noted. Goddamn. For such a quiet, mousy woman, Carol seemed to have a habit of noticing everything. She had caught me off guard more than once now, I'd be careful to ensure it didn't happen a third time. "You seemed to be getting along when you both went out to look for the kids last night."

"Yeah, I thought so too," I replied bitterly. The R.V. began to move, turning around to follow the roar of Daryl's motorcycle as we headed in the direction the stranger on the horse had given up.

"What happened?"

"I dunno, Carol. It's like every time I think I'm getting somewhere with him, Merle comes up, and we have to start all over," I leaned back in my chair. "It's like he realises what I'm doing, and just shuts down."

"He's hurting," Carol pointed out. "Maybe Daryl feels like if he gives too much away, someone will find out things about him he doesn't want them too. He's scared they'll look at him differently." Her eyes were lost, drowning in sadness and an understanding that didn't have anything to do with Daryl.

I squeezed her hand carefully, watching as a genuine smile rose on her face. And against my utmost wishes, I smiled back.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

The place the stranger had told us about was a beautiful farm. The farmhouse itself was white. Its paint was peeling in places, and the windows were grimy. It had a charming feel to it, like when you stepped inside an old building and could almost sense its memories with your fingertips.

Rick quickly approached us as we exited the R.V., his face was shiny and pale.

"How's the boy?" Dale asked, thick eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"Hershel says he'll be fine, Lori is with him." Rick replied. I noticed that tents had been set out for our group, surrounding a large oak tree.

"Mommy!" Sophia cried, rushing at Carol. They embraced tightly. I spotted Josie drawing pictures with Andrea, who waved me over.

"Anything?" she asked, knowing I understood what she meant.

"Not so far," I answered, sinking to the ground beside them to capture Josie in a one-armed hug. She snuggled into my side. "I think some of us should go back tomorrow to check, just in case."

"Count me in." she offered. The air between us felt lighter since I had given her gun back. I had told Dale my honest opinion back on the highway. Andrea could have chosen to let the walkers kill her more than once, but she had fought back. Giving her the gun was the only way to let her know that we trusted her to make her own decisions.

When Shane emerged from one of the other tents, I almost didn't recognise him. He was limping slightly, and his thick head of dark hair was gone, shaved right down to his skull. There was something off about the way he looked at everyone. It was like he was seeing everything for the first time.

"C'mon then." He spoke, softer than usual. Gone was that air of confidence. I looked at Andrea for an explanation of some sorts.

"Shane and one of Hershel's men went looking for medical supplies to save Carl," she lowered her voice as Shane swept past us. "The other guy- Otis- he was the one that shot Carl."

I didn't understand why the rage had flared up inside my throat. Carl wasn't mine to worry about. "Where is the son of a bitch then?"

"He's dead," Andrea answered. I cursed silently, biting down on my tongue. "he gave his life to get Shane back here. Carl would've died without him."

"Shit." I muttered. I rose from the floor with Andrea and Josie, following them across the fields. The others fell into line. As we passed the farmhouse, I saw a barn looming in its shadows. Unlike the farmhouse, which appeared homely and warm, the barn was dark. It seemed to be falling apart.

An old man was standing under a tree when we arrived. He was slightly portly, with wispy white hair and a calm demeanour. Surrounding him was a group of people I hadn't met, except for the dark-haired girl who had taken Lori. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had her arms around a shorter blonde girl, who's large, round eyes watched us arrive. The boy next to her looked to be about the same age. He was too busy comforting another blonde woman to notice us.

This was a funeral. My heart sank with dread as we gathered around a makeshift grave. The old man, Hershel, spoke about Otis. With every word, I slowly began to tune more and more out. We had never been able to hold funerals for our dead. When dad had died, there had been no way of retrieving what was left of his body. Lucas had made us burn our dead, not bury them. Otis' funeral was alien to me.

Shane began to retell the story of how Otis died. How the man had given Shane the bag and held off the walkers, ensuring Carl lived. As he spoke, his eyes flickered between the grave and Lori. I watched him move with fascination, heard him stumble over his words. Something in his voice prickled the hairs on the back of my neck.

As Otis' funeral finished, I watched everyone walk away. Josie stayed by my side; her small hand grasped in mine.

"Did you bury Lucas when he died?" She asked. I looked down at the freshly dug soil resting over an empty grave, unsure of what to say to her.

"No," I replied. My mouth did all the work for me, almost like I wasn't in control anymore. "I burned him."

Chapter Text

The first thing Rick wanted to do was to organise a proper schedule for the search for Louis and Eliza. Today would be the third day they were missing, and the chances of finding them were dropping. Another thought I would be keeping to myself. Some people in the group would likely have something to say about it.

Hershel had Maggie bring us a map, and we laid it out on the bonnet of a car. "County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations."

"This is perfect." Rick stated, running his hands over the layout of the creek. "We can finally get this thing organised. We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams."

"Not you." Hershel frowned at both Rick and Shane, who looked at him for an explanation. "Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out. And your ankle... Push it now, you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody."

God, this was unbearable. I had already offered my help, no need to stick around and listen to two righteous cops and an old farmer debate their ability to help out.

Around the camp, both Rick's people and Hershel's family were setting up the campsite. I wondered whether it was even worth unpacking my things. My mind hadn't been quite made up yet. I was so caught up in thinking about it that I didn't notice Glenn until he was right in front of me. I yelped and jumped back, my hand reaching for a knife or a gun or something. "Jesus Christ you absolute bastard!"

"I'm sorry!" He was damn lucky I didn't beat his damn ass. Sneaky little kid, his ability to creep in and out of walker infested territories was not being used to scare the crap out of me. "Listen- I think that T-"

He was cut off when Hershel's eldest daughter came jogging over. I'd learned from Andrea that Hershel's family included his daughters, Maggie and Beth, Beth's boyfriend Jimmy, and Patricia, one of Hershel's farm hands and Otis' widow.

"I've got a pharmacy run to make, your people said you were the one who used to do their runs. Think you could help me?" Maggie asked. Glenn stood there, mouth agape like a fish. "well?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, we can go get some... some stuff." I rolled my eyes, drifting off across the camp and away from Glenn. His crush on the farm girl was painfully obvious.

I joined Andrea, sitting underneath the cool shade. It was a relief to be out of Georgia's blistering sun.

Andrea began to speak as Dale approached Maggie. "He's asking about their water situation. We're gonna have to try and pull our weight around here until Carl gets better."

"How is he?" I asked.

"Better than before, apparently. He's still drifting in and out of consciousness, but Hershel thinks he'll make a full recovery."

"That's good." I replied, glancing up at the house. I ignored the jolt of relief I felt at hearing the news.

Everyone else had obviously kept themselves busy whilst Rick had been playing police again. I had to wade through bags and boxes of supplies and personal items to reach the tent Josie and I would be sleeping in. She sat inside with Sophia and Carol, and all three were drawing pictures of farm animals.

Lending a pen from Andrea, I jotted down a couple of things I would need, including a disposable razor, some plasters or bandages, and some spare sanitary towels, just in case. He took the list numbly as I wound around Lori to hand it to him. Poor kid; we hadn't even gotten settled properly, and he was already being sent off like an errand boy.

Still didn't excuse him from scaring the shit out of me.

Now, where had Dale hobbled off to? Andrea had said he was asking about water, so he was likely hovering around a well, like a do-gooding gnat. "I'll be back soon, Josie. Just gonna see if Dale's got our water situation sorted." She nodded absentmindedly and went back to chatting with Sophia. A sudden, fleeting moment of jealousy reared its ugly head.

I had to brush that feeling away. She hadn't been able to act like a real kid in such a while, I couldn't be upset about her spending time with Sophia. I wanted her to live as normal a life as she could when it was possible.

"Best go check on the well situation, then." Andrea joined me as I walked through camp. As we ambled past Hershel's farmhouse, I could only imagine how much more beautiful this fairy-tale farm would have been before the walkers rose up and started killing people. I could almost picture the happy family gathered around the table for breakfast and chores, watching the sun rise as they tended to the farm, they were working so hard to keep alive, even now.

"Andrea, Liz, over here!" Huh. Dale had found us instead. "Would you mind sitting with T-Dog while I go and get some of the others? We've got a walker stuck inside the well, and I think we're gonna need a few helping hands."

"A walker?"

"Yup." Without another word, Dale jogged off to retrieve backup. I found T-Dog squatting over the well, peering down into the depths below. The echo of the well was making the walker sound louder than it actually was, which was probably a good thing, in this case.

T-Dog said nothing as I moved to squat opposite him, staring at the ugly bastard in the well. And boy, was he ugly. The water had sped up its decay, and skin hung from its bloated body like fleshy wings. Its eyes bulged at the sight of not one, but two meals watching it from above. "How'd y'all figure out it was down here?"

"Dale." He answered gruffly. "heard it splashin' and growling. Just managed to stop me from taking a drink."

"Thank god. Ain't sure if the water would be infected or not. Wouldn't wanna take the chance." God, did he have to burn two holes into my head? "listen, T-Dog-"

"So what's up?" Never mind. Shane strode up to the well and looked into its depths. "Dale said something about a walker in the- Christ. That is one ugly ass geek."

"Yeah, you said it." T-Dog agreed. The four of us were joined by Dale, Glenn, Lori, and Maggie

"How long you think it’s been down there?" Glenn sounded amazed. Good for him, he wouldn't be as amazed if the thing was up here rather than down there.

"For it to look like that?" Andrea peered over Shane's shoulder and grimaced. "maybe a couple weeks, at the least."

"We gotta get it out." Lori stated, throwing her hands onto her hips.

"Easy. Put a bullet in its head." I added. A sound plan. But of course, there was always somebody who had something to say.

"Whoa whoa, guys. No." Andrea argued. I rolled my eyes but said nothing.

Glenn, however, did. "Why not? It's a good plan."

"It's a stupid plan." At Glenn's silent request, Andrea explained her argument. "If that thing hasn't contaminated the water yet, blowing its brains out will finish the job."

"No offence Andrea, but I ain't drinking water that's been soaking up a shit load of walker juices. Look at that thing. It's got blood and a whole lotta shit on it." I tried to sway the decision, but it didn't matter. The majority of the group wanted to try and get it out alive. And hey- maybe the water wasn't contaminated.

Or maybe it was.

We brainstormed for twenty minutes. The plan went to hell after four.

"He's not going for it." Shit. The walker occasionally pawed at the hunk of canned meat, but it never once tried to take a bite.

"Maybe 'cause a canned ham don't kick and scream when you try to eat it." T-Dog suggested. There were nods of agreement all around the cluster of people watching the spook bat away the meat in disgust. Could it even be disgusted?

"He's right." Lori added from the back of the group. "There's a reason the dead didn't come back to life and start raiding our cupboards. We need live bait." All at once, every head turned to face Glenn, who shrank back into the background as he came to the realisation what 'live bait' meant.

"Oh, c'mon!"

"You're quick and smaller than the rest of us. It'll be easier for you to get close to it without getting bitten." Shane's reasoning was pretty intelligent, actually. It was just a shame poor Glenn would be risking his neck for it. "someone get the rope, and we'll have Glenn down and out with that geek in no time."

The rope was quickly fetched and tied around Glenn's thighs and waist to ensure he wouldn't slip out of it. The water pump secured it in place whilst we tried to make Glenn feel a little less terrified.

This was a really stupid plan.

"Have I mentioned that I really like your new haircut? You have a nice shaped head." Glenn remarked to Shane as the ropes were tightened yet again. Maggie Greene watched them with the same expression I probably had.

This was a really, really stupid plan.

"Don't worry about it, bud." Shane clapped a large paw around Glenn's tiny shoulder. "we're gonna get you out of here in one piece."

"Living piece. That living part is important." Slowly, slowly, he was lowered into the well, dropping closer and closer to the walker inside.

God, I couldn't watch. Between Rick and Shane, their crazy ideas were driving me nuts. How could anyone be so insane? You survived by avoiding the spooks- not dragging them up to say hello.

My stomach twisted the further and further he went down. The walker's growls and snarls had gotten louder and much more guttural. It was almost like it was excited.

For a moment, it looked like the plan was going to work out. Glenn had yet to die. Then, there was a deafening clang as the water pump broke from the ground and began to drag along the dirt towards the well.

Glenn's screams of fear echoed from the inside of the well. They could barely be heard over the sounds of people panicking from up here.

Shane leapt for the rope and pulled as hard as he could, with the help of T-Dog, and then Andrea, and then everyone else joined in. "Grab it! Grab it!"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I pulled on the water pump with the others, we were on the floor, sat with our feet dug into the ground as we worked together to stop Glenn from being eaten. The muscles in my arms were stretched taut against the skin, and I was glad that years and years of archery classes were paying off.

Lori was the first to let go and grab the rope, pulling with all her might. For a small woman, she was partially successful, and Glenn's hair became visible. Shane scrambled to help Lori alongside Andrea, and they yanked him out of the well faster than a fish from water. "Pull him up. Pull him up."

"Are you okay?" Glenn tried to pull off a grin. His hands shook. Everyone else's burned.

"So much for that." Lori dropped the rope and caressed the rope burns on her hands in an attempt to soothe them. She stopped when she saw the rope inch towards the well, and thrash at the spot closest to it. "Wait, is it attached?"

"Guess so." T-Dog lifted up the rope again and gestured for everyone to do the same. "Come on, guys, pull." We joined it, heaving and tugging as hard as we could. It was a pretty big damn walker, but if we had managed to pull Glenn up without getting him killed, we could surely pull up this spook.

"Come on, y'all." My back ached, and my shoulders were in agony, but I fought against the weight on the other side of the rope as hard as I could. The top of the walker's head appeared out of the well. Shane continued to shout words for encouragement as the group pulled the walker up further and further. I could see its shoulders. Then its upper arms, and then the entire torso.

And that's all we could get. The walker stopped moving, and no matter how hard we pulled, it stayed glued to the side of the well. "It's stuck! Come on. Come on, pull!" Shane ordered. I was ready to snap that we were pulling. My hands throbbed with pain as fire shot through the tears in the skin. Goddammit, I hadn't signed up for this shit. I just wanted some clean water.

"Pull!" Everything happened at once. The group gave one last, desperate pull, and the walker's upper body gave way. Flesh tore from flesh as the lower half hit the bottom of the well with a sickening splash. Entrails followed soon after.

The upper half, however, just kept snarling. Maggie watched it with a look of horror on her face; they hadn't really seen many walkers up here after all.

"We should seal off this well." Dale suggested, eyeing the thrashing torso with disgust.

"Yeah, might be a good idea. So what do we do about..." Shlunk! T-Dog scattered the walker's brains over the dry grass and stood cursing for a few minutes.

"Good thing we didn't do anything stupid like shoot it." He said dryly, kicking walker brains from his boots. The group split off and wandered away from the crime scene, only Maggie seemed particularly disturbed by the incident. I followed after Shane with a sudden need to find something to do.

"Hey, wait up." I called. He stopped and turned around; eyebrows raised. "y'all got anything I can do? I don't wanna wander off looking for the kids without anyone."

"Why didn't you head off with Daryl?"

"We're not exactly on great terms right now, there was a small argument back at the interstate." Shane rubbed his head again, and I wondered if he missed running his fingers through his hair. Whilst his head was down, I caught a glimpse of a patch on his head that was much balder than the rest. He must have pressed down too hard.

"Sure. Me and Andrea were gonna go see if the kids had come back yet. I think Carol's offered to come up too." Of course she had. Carol's maternal instinct seemed to have kicked into overtime, and now every person on the farm was her responsibility. And that was fine by me. Maybe I could convince her to learn how to use a gun and a knife.

"Okay. I'll meet y'all by the car, just gotta grab my knife and a gun or something" Shane stalked off in one direction, and I went the other. The tent was already open when I got back to the camp, but nobody was inside. Josie must have forgotten to zip it up after she left.

The others were waiting by the car as I jogged to join them. Shane opened the passenger door, bowing mockingly. "You powderin' your nose while you were gone?"

"Shut up." I laughed, climbing inside. He chuckled with me, walking around to get behind the wheel. The car groaned to life, and we were off back down the winding roads.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

There were no frightened children waiting when we made it back to the highway, just as I had expected. Shane took the chance to grab extra supplies and returned to the car carrying four of the large water bottles he and Glenn had found days before.

"So, what?" Andrea, slapped her hands against her thighs, leaning against the car. Her face was full of disappointment. "Do we just keep coming back?"

"Yes," Carol answered firmly. "We have to keep trying."

"Andrea's got a point, Carol," Shane dropped the water bottles into the trunk. "hate to say it, but I gotta. How long we gonna wait around until we realise it's too dangerous to be out here."

"We have to try," Carol pleaded. Her eyes were filling up with tears. She turned to me, lips trembling. "right, Liz?"

Oh shit. Every set of eyes was on me now. I shifted uncomfortably under the pressure of their gazes. I knew what they thought of me. I was either a murderer or a survivor in their eyes. I could never quite tell which one they were thinking.

"We should come back, just to make sure," I replied tentatively. Shane huffed. "but I don't think it's right that we're devotin' so much time to this. We need to start planning our next move."

"We should head back up then." Shane threw open the car door and slammed it shut behind him. I knew what he wanted. If Shane had his way, we would be gone as soon as Carl could move and on our way to Fort Bennet.

I slid into the seat beside him. His hands were white as he gripped the steering wheel, turning the car around with a deafening screech.

"You talked to Hershel about how long we get to stay on the farm?" I asked him. Andrea and Carol stayed silent in the back.

"We got until Carl's healed and those kids are found," Shane replied. "it's one of his rules."

"Yeah, he has a lot of those from what I gathered," Shane noticed the bitterness in my voice, and smirked. "Any main rules I should be aware of? I'd rather not be responsible for getting your group kicked off the farm."

"You mean our group?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I meant what I meant." If the other two had something to say about it, they didn't voice it.

"You don't consider yourself part of us?" Shane tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

"I don't plan on stickin' around forever," I responded. "I wanna get home someday."

"But we have to find the kids first, right?" Carol chimed in. "I'd feel awful if they were still alive and we didn't wait."

I could vaguely picture the events on the highway. Carol was a kind woman, but I also knew what that kind of guilt felt like; the feeling that it could have been your child, and you're upset because you were glad it wasn't. "Carol?"

"Mmm, yes?"

"You keep a gun or anything?"

"Oh, God no. I don't even know how to use anything like that."

"I could teach you, if you'd like. Or a knife, if that would make you feel better." Her head dropped down to her chest. I could almost hear her mind working, the gears grinding and thinking and wondering. "and Sophia too. I think it would help her." Her daughter's name caught her attention. She bit her already skinned lip.

"I mean, I don't want to be a bother, I just- it feels like I'm a burden on the group, and I hate-"

"Hey, Carol." Interrupted Shane. "You are not a burden, ya hear me? Now, at the CDC, I doubted you, and that was wrong. You saved us."

"No. Rick saved us." She mumbled.

"And he wouldn't have been able to if you hadn't picked up that grenade." Shane looked through the rear mirror and smiled at Carol. It was a gentle smile, no teeth or the aggression I usually saw radiating from him.

"Thank you." She whispered. Andrea squeezed her hands, and I welled with pride. It felt good to help Carol.

It felt good to be here.

The car pulled into the Greene farm, and we trudged back to camp. I walked with Carol to the R.V., stepping inside and relishing in the cosiness of the small home.

There was a white flower placed in the end table of the bedroom when we got back. Carol picked it up and examined it curiously. "It's inside a beer bottle. Who left this?"

"It's a Cherokee rose." A voice growled from behind us. Both Carol and I spun to see Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes not meeting ours.

"A Cherokee rose?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, examining the dirt underneath his fingernails. "The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the trail of tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and crying so much 'cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation. A lot of 'em just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope. The next day this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell." Realisation sunk in. His throat caught on the last sentence. Daryl took a deep breath. "I'm not fool enough to think there's any flowers blooming for my brother. But I think maybe this one bloomed for those kids. Thought it would be nice to bring it back. " He didn't look up to see our reactions, and only said another thing as he left. "I'm glad people are out lookin' for them."

Whilst Carol bustled around cleaning up the R.V, I stood, and wondered for a moment about the hunter named Daryl Dixon. In all this time we'd been looking for the two missing kids, I hadn't even thought about what this must mean to him, after losing his brother. And maybe I should have, because I lost my brother too.

A single tear slid down my face.

Chapter Text

Josie had abandoned the tent before I woke up. She'd said nothing to me yesterday, when I had returned from the highway.

Carol was folding laundry outside the tent and humming to herself the entire time. It was some country song I vaguely recognised by the tune. "Mornin'"

"Good morning. You sleep well?" she asked.

"Not really. I'm sleeping in just the sleeping bag, so the floor is something I'm waking up to now."

"Why didn't you say? We've got a spare cot in the back of the car." She lowered her voice and put the laundry down with shaky hands. "It was Ed's cot."

"Ah, thank you, Carol. I'll come by and collect it later. You need help with anything?"

"Oh, I can manage just fine. I might need some help organising our little pantry, though. Shane wants everything stored away in the R.V."

"I can do that. Maybe we can get the kids to help out, might give 'em something to do." And it might just coerce Josie into talking to me. At this moment, I couldn't quite figure out why she was ignoring me like this. Had I said something?

The conversation became bigger when Lori, fresh from sleeping and sporting bed hair, wobbled to Carol's side. "Next time wake me, all right? Especially on laundry day. I don't want to leave it all to you, honey." Her eyes blazed with dedication; to what I didn't know.

Carol weakly defended herself. "I can manage." She put down an item of clothing she had in her hands and turned to us both. "I had an idea I wanted to run by you, Lori."

"What's that?"

"That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking. I wouldn't mind cooking in a real kitchen again. Maybe we all pitch in and cook dinner for Hershel and his family tonight." Suddenly, Carol's face turned red, and she ducked her head down, mumbling. "Of course, if you don't want to help, that's fine, I don't want to force anyone into anything."

"After everything they've done for us, seems like the least we could do." Like me, Lori had spotted Carol's attempt to curl back into her shell, and she was having none of it. Carol perked up and accepted Lori's half-hug. "Might add some sort of normal to our lives."

"You mind extending the invitation? Would just feel more right coming from you."

"How so?" Lori questioned.

"You're Rick's wife. It sort of makes you our unofficial first lady." Lori accepted and asked if I wanted to help them. I considered my options. I was capable of cooking, but maybe my time would be better spent looking for Eliza and Louis. And then again, I wasn't sure I was ready to go out there and possibly find them bitten or turned. And Lori and Carol did enough around the camp on their own.

"Sure, I can lend a hand. Y'all think Sophia and Josie would be able to sort out the supplies on their own?" I folded a pair of jeans.

Carol snorted. "Honey, I love my daughter, but Sophia couldn't tell the difference between a can of peas and a box of lentils. I think it's best we sort out the supplies, and then get started on dinner."

"You make a fair point." I left them to their work, focused on finding something to do. I could start sorting our supplies, but it would mean doing it alone whilst Lori and Carol were busy. But, then again, if Carol could do the laundry on her own, then I could do this. I turned on my heel and rapped on the door of the Winnebago, confident that Dale would be awake. Sure enough, the old man's face appeared in front of me, as gentle and kind as always.

"Here about the supplies?"

"Pretty much."

"Shane and Andrea piled them in boxes on the counters. I don't know exactly where they go, so I suppose that'll be your job." He allowed me to come inside and gestured to the five measly boxes sitting on the benches. God, was this all we had? I could have sworn we had picked up more from the highway. "Shane wants someone to make a run to the highway with Glenn tomorrow to scavenge more stuff. We didn't take it all because of the... the incident." It was like he could read minds; I was sure of it.

This was going to take maybe half an hour. There was literally nothing here. Someone had written on the boxes; scrawled handwriting detailing the contents of each. Dry foods, tinned foods, the lot. I surveyed the situation of Dale's kitchen, and found that it contained four cupboards, three overhead cupboards, and a fridge. That would be enough.

"We'll put any canned foods in the overhead cupboard there. The boxes of crackers and other carbohydrates and shit can go in the cupboard on the far right. This- what the hell is it? - Anyway, it looks like it belongs in the fridge." The clank of metal cans against faux wood was almost satisfying. It was like being home again. I could remember all the shopping trips, where Mom and I had come home with painful grooves in our hands. The cluttered kitchen counters, and the inevitability of us bumping into each other as we fussed around putting things away. God, how had she managed when I went to college?

It didn't matter now. Mom was gone, and this time it was me who had been left alone to put away the food.

"Ya'know, I'm awful glad you decided to help out here, rather than going off with everyone else." He backtracked once his eyes met my sharp glare. "not to say they're wrong, because they aren't. But it's nice to see some people understand the need to keep the camp clean and organised, instead of wanting to pick up a gun and shooting anything that breathes wrong." He glanced out the window, and I felt a wave of bitterness and care from him.

"This about Andrea?" He tried to backtrack again and was met by my laughter. "No- no, don't bother. I know it's about Andrea." His shoulders sagged in defeat. "Wanna talk about that?"

"I- don't mistake my intentions, I admire her desire to protect the group, but..."

"But?" I dug further, eager to hear what Dale had to say.

"But I'm not even sure she's capable of protecting herself yet. Look at what happened in the woods." He was going to use every excuse under the sun. I didn't understand why he couldn't just admit that he was terrified that she would do something stupid and let herself be eaten or something.

"Maybe what happened in the woods wouldn't have happened if she had had a gun."

"Now, wait a second-"

"No, Dale. I know that you care for Andrea, and you wanna protect her. But sheltering her from everything won't work. She has to learn to protect herself, and you ain't gonna be able to stop her, short of locking her inside the R.V." He folded his hat between his fingers and sighed loudly. I remembered another man who used to sigh like that. But those memories, like the person, were long gone.

"Right Dale, I'm done here." I left before he could say another word. He could have this conversation with Andrea, or T-Dog, or anyone but me.

I was tired of reliving old memories.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

Lori's request to cook dinner for Hershel's family was granted permission from Patricia, although she and Beth would be there to monitor us. Still, it was nice to have something to do that could be considered normal.

"I see Andrea's managed to weasel her way out of doing anything." Lori muttered. Ever since she had found out that Andrea would be going with Rick and the other men, she'd become awfully moody. Every so often, she'd remind us all that some job had to be done, and that playing the soldier didn't work when you couldn't keep up with the others. I didn't have the energy to ask her to shut up.

"She's doin' her part looking for Louis and Eliza." I replied, trying to cut poor Andrea some slack. "We need as many people out there as possible."

"We got Rick and Shane, and Daryl, T-Dog."

"I think Jimmy went with them too." Beth looked up from peeling carrots.

"You see! She didn't have to go anywhere, could've stayed to help out. You sorted out Dale's cupboards on your own."

"Well, Dale kinda helped." I lied. My weak defence of Andrea was a flimsy film, and Lori saw through it easily. She narrowed her eyes, and chopped off a large piece of potato, which bounced from the counter onto the floor. "Moving on, has anyone seen the girls today?"

"They're outside. The two of 'em are getting along so well, I didn't see the point in making them come inside for chores." Carol spoke softly, not meeting my eyes. Perhaps she thought I would be mad because she hadn't done what I wanted.

"That's fine, Carol. It's good that they're getting to do something like that." I thought of the other child on the farm, who was busy lying in a bed with no chance of moving until later tonight. "How's Carl?"

"He's much better. Hershel says that he should be up and movin' about like normal in a few days." Lori's eyes glazed over as she stared outside. Through the window, I caught a glimpse of Rick and Shane behind the house, talking. Their stances suggested that an argument had taken place at some point during their search.

Andrea had apparently taken up residence on the roof of the Winnebago. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Andrea with a gun. But I wasn't so sure about leaving guns with people who couldn't use them. I had learned to use a gun as a child, thanks to my father running a gun store alongside his side-job as a mechanic. But Andrea had trouble putting together a handgun. When I had given her the gun back, I'd expected her to stick with it. Not pick up any other gun she happened to find. The rifle was different to what Andrea was used to. One wrong move and she could seriously hurt someone or draw walkers to the farm.

A part of me agreed with Lori. Andrea had snubbed every duty she considered 'a useless way to help the camp'. Carol, Lori and I had been scrubbing clothes and organising whilst she had been away playing shoot 'em up with the guys. Usually, I would have been the first to pick up a gun and start acting like a guard, but after seeing the work Carol and Lori had, I'd decided to sit back and give them a hand.

But Lori's way of complaining about it, quite frankly, was bullshit. She twisted the facts, and suddenly Andrea was running around doing nothing whilst she toiled all day and night. I didn't dare point out to her that:

One, Andrea was helping find two lost children, any of whom could have easily been Lori's if he'd moved quicker.

Two, Carol did most of the work. Lori had spent a long time inside, watching over Carl.

There was the creak of footsteps on the front porch, followed by the screen door thumping against the wall. Maggie moved from the kitchen to the living room to talk to whoever had entered. Patricia met my eyes and whispered "Hershel."

Ever the snoop, I moved over to the fridge and pretended to look for something, so that I could hear their conversation.

"What's this?" Hershel demanded.

"Lori, Liz and Carol are cooking dinner for us all tonight."

"That's the first I've heard of it." He answered sharply. From the corner of my eye, I saw him lean away from Maggie as his face flushed a light pink.

"I didn't think it was that big a deal. They want to thank us for helping them." Maggie insisted. I could tell she wasn't planning on backing down from this.

"We need to be setting clear boundaries with these people. They're getting a little too comfortable." Too comfortable? We'd not even been here a week.

"It's just dinner." The rest of their conversation was whispered. I only caught a couple of words here and there.

"...asian boy?"

"...I'm not 16."

"Don't make things harder..." Family Problems, then. That was something I definitely understood. I'd had a close relationship with my twin brother, Lucas, and my Dad. But my mom and two other brothers had always been a struggle to deal with. My mom especially. Maybe it was the lack of similar interests, or maybe it was the fact that I just wasn't great at being the daughter she wanted.

It didn't matter. I had little time to think about family; Andrea's yelling brought everyone into the campsite. She was standing atop the R.V. "Walker. Walker!"

We raced outside; dinner was forgotten.

"Just the one?" Shane asked her, bounding across camp. Andrea nodded and lay down on the roof, putting her eye to the rifle scope.

"I bet I can nail it from here." The sun beat down from the direction the walker came from. I bet that she'd be blinded if she tried to take a shot now.

One walker. Rick and Shane could kill it if they had to. A gun shot might attract more.

"No no, Andrea. Put the gun down. You'd best let us handle this."

"Shane, hold up." Rick jogged to Shane to try and calm him down. "Hershel wants to deal with walkers"

"What for, man? We got it covered." And Shane, Rick, Glenn and T-Dog started to run down the hill. That walker had come from the forest. Daryl was in the forest.

I tried to ignore my heart attempting to jump out of my chest. I could feel my breath becoming ragged. It was natural to be worried. Daryl and I had just started to trust each other, I was only worried about someone in the group.

The click of a rifle into place from the roof of the R.V caused my heartbeat to race faster than ever. Andrea was getting ready to pull the trigger. "No. No way." I said.

"What? Are all of you so scared that I'll screw it up?"

"Andrea, don't." Dale warned her. Andrea scoffed and squinted into the scope of the rifle.

"Back off, Dale."

Down the hill, Rick and the others had stopped just in front of the walker. Why weren't they killing it?

BANG. The walker fell down; smoke was protruding from Andrea's rifle. She sat up, looking smug.

That smirk fell when she heard Rick screaming. "NO!" He and Shane were carrying the walker between them. What the hell?

I broke into a sprint down the hill towards the four men and the walker between them. As I got closer, I saw the crossbow Rick was carrying, and the familiar clothing of the 'walker'. It was Daryl. Had he been turned?

"Rick! Is he dead?" Rick shook his head, and I was hit by a burst of relief.

"Oh my God, is he- Umfh!" My fist collided with Andrea's face before either of us knew it had happened. T-Dog moved to stop me but seemed to decide against it when he noticed something in the grass. My knuckles throbbed with pain, but I didn't really notice it until Andrea was trying to stand back up again with Dale's help. She would likely be bruised in a few hours, and there was a small, slow trickle of blood from her nose.

"Guys" Rick and Shane froze where they were and turned around to see T-Dog clutching a small, dirty doll. "Isn't this Eliza's?"

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

The raggedy doll was the main topic in camp. I'd heard everyone whisper and hiss about it as I passed through to visit Daryl in his sick bed. Carl had been given an early good-to-go on the condition that he was very careful and didn't try to do too much.

Daryl was relaxing in the bed, his elbow propping him up. He seemed pretty chilled for a man who had suffered a fair amount of injuries.

"A wound the whole way through your side, a bullet graze, and a dozen scrapes and bruises." Hershel pottered around the bedroom, only stopping to give Daryl a look of dislike.

"The doll- Daryl, where did you find the doll?" Rick leant over Daryl, eyes wide, hands shaking. Daryl seemed rather unnerved, and he shifted away from the cop invading his personal space.

"I found it washed up on the creek bed right there."

"She must have dropped it crossing there somewhere. Cuts the grid almost in half."

"Yeah, you're welcome." Daryl responded gruffly. His cheeks were turning red and he shuffled in the bed awkwardly, his eyes flickering around to settle on every face.

I backed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Dinner was coming along just fine, despite one of our members being shot.

I did not look forward to seeing Andrea. I was still considering whether I owed her an apology.

The plates were set out, and the food was being served. The kids, Beth, Billy, Jimmy, Maggie and Glenn had all been allocated to a smaller table, while the rest of us -aside from a recovering Daryl- were seated at the main table.

The house was beautiful. I looked at the amazing lace detail of the curtains, and the polished wood flooring I would never have seen in my own home. The upstairs of this house had to be even more elegant.

Andrea was sat at the other side of the table, at the far end beside Dale. Her face was bruised all right. And her nose had swollen slightly. I hadn't really meant to hit her that hard, I hadn't meant to hit her at all.

"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" Glenn injected himself into the conversation, likely trying to avoid talking with the kids. "Dale found a cool one. Somebody's got to know how to play."

"Otis did." Patricia's tiny voice echoed across both tables. Glenn's joking smile wobbled and fell away. Hershel turned to Patricia and attempted to comfort her as best as he could.

"Yes, and he was very good too." From the corner of my eye, I noticed Carol get up with a plate of food and start towards the room Daryl was residing in. This was my chance to talk to him without him feeling so cornered.

"Hey Carol, I got that." I took the plate from her lightly.

"You sure? I-I don't mind, really."

"No, no I got it. You spend some time with Sophia." She thanked me and returned to her seat. I turned the creaky handle of the door and pushed it open a little, just enough for me to slip through. "You doin' okay?"

"S'pose. The old man says I should be fine." He didn't even bother turning around.

"Carol kept some dinner for you." I got no answer. "It's nice, ya got some boiled potatoes, and some carrots, and chicken- when was the last time you had real meat?" Still nothing. The slow rise and fall of his chest suggested that he may have fallen asleep. "Daryl?"

"What?" He snapped, turning to face me. "why can't you just leave me be?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," I answered him. I sat at the edge of the bed, head down and focused on picking dirt from my fingernails. "When I left Merle, I... I was a mess. I'd just lost my brother only a day before, and I was just thinkin' about me and Josie, and nobody else. If I'd known that Merle had a brother- if I'd known that I was going to put you through what I'm going through," I stopped myself before I could lie. A small laugh escaped in the wind of my breath. "no, I can't. I would have left Merle, the same way I left Morales. I didn't know ya'll then," I looked up at him. He was staring at me intently, holding his breath. His lips had parted, his face was like a blank piece of paper. I had no way of knowing if he was angry at me or not. "but I know you now, or at least, I'd like to."

I got up quickly, dashing for the door. As I gripped the door handle, he spoke. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not lyin' to me." Our eyes met each other, and it felt like he was staring right through me. In that moment, I knew exactly who Daryl Dixon was. And he knew me.

I broke the grip his look had on me, and fled.

Chapter Text

"We'd like to join you for gun training today." This was just a bad idea. Shane had rounded up everyone interested in shooting guns and most of them had never even held a gun before. I had not signed up for this.

"Hershel's been very clear. I can't involve any of you in what we do without his okay."

"He doesn't like it, but he consented. Otis was the only one who knew guns. Now that he's gone, we gotta learn to protect ourselves. Her father saw the sense in that." Rick wasn't taking Patricia at her word.

"No offense, but I'll ask Hershel myself." He decided. According to Shane, Hershel had scolded Rick for allowing Jimmy to help them, and for Daryl taking one of his horses.

I spotted Carol standing with Sophia; it looked like she had taken our advice and decided to try gun practice herself.

"Hey Carol." She returned the greeting and looked at the guns laying on the wooden table, eyeing them with caution. "Will you be joining us?"

"Me and Sophia." She stroked Sophia's strawberry blonde hair and smiled at her daughter. Both of them had put-on long-sleeved tops. "I thought that maybe she could use some practice. I'd like her to be able to look after herself."

"Sure, I can ask Shane if I can keep an eye on you two whilst we're training." Shane and Rick walked back, with a red-faced wife and son behind Rick. "Shane, you mind if I focus on Carol and Sophia today?"

"Long as you take some time to help everyone else as well."

"No problem."

"Right!" Shane jumped to the front of the group and began to bellow out instructions. "Now, we're gonna be walking to the practice area. It's a little while down, so I hope ya'll don't mind the trek."

I turned around to Beth and Maggie to try and make some conversation. "Y'all doing okay?" Beth grinned, and I immediately regretted asking. She talked and talked and talked. Damn teenagers. Maggie looked at me and rolled her eyes in agreement. As a sister myself, I knew what it was like to put up with younger siblings.

Beth stopped talking to breathe, and Maggie took her opening. "So, Glenn says you ain't even from Georgia?"

"Nah, I'm an Arkansas girl. Dad owned a store, Mom was a kinda midwife at the local clinic."

"So she was like a nurse?"

"Sorta. I mean, she taught me a couple of things, but not a lot, I couldn't like- do surgeries of some shit like that." They didn't seem to care. Even Lori seemed interested in what I had to say, and all of a sudden, everyone was asking questions about how I'd gotten to Georgia.

"We took a Greyhound to visit my Aunt in hospital. Some Romanian tourist on a trip with her boyfriend got on as we entered Georgia, bleedin' all over the place. Said her boyfriend had attacked her."

"So what happened after that?" Carl asked. His eyes shone with excitement, the poor kid was still recovering from his wounds and had been bored out of his mind since then.

"Well, we couldn't get a hold of any emergency services, so she died while sitting in her seat. The hostess came over while she wasn't breathing and tried to give her CPR." A collective gasp rose up from the group. Only Shane looked particularly unfazed. "she turned and bit the hostess."

"So how did you stop her from biting anyone else?" Lori asked.

"I didn't. I was on the top floor; she was on the bottom. Some guy called Kit took her out." Kit, now there was a face that hurt to think about. Actually, there were a lot of faces that hurt to think about. And so many names. Some had died, and some had just never come back, or went missing in the night. All those people we had lost. A full bus, and now it was likely just me and Josie left.

God, everyone was gone. How many had I let go?

The group was moving again. Shane stepped to the back and put a hand on my shoulder. His eyes were hard to read. "You doin' fine?"

"How good are you at tellin' if someone is lying?"

"I'm a cop."

"I'm not fine, not really." The grass bowed beneath our feet as we continued up towards the fence. T-Dog and Rick were already setting up glass bottles and cans along the posts. "I'm wondering if I'm normal."

"Why the hell would you think you weren't?" He chuckled. "Hell, nothing is normal anymore. We got dead people trying to kill us, and we're about to teach a bunch of kids and farmers to shoot."

"You make a fair point." He got real close all of sudden, and all the joking attitude was gone.

"Listen. Some people round here are gonna doubt your decisions- don't listen to 'em. You gotta do what's best for you, and whoever you love. Even if they don't agree with it. It ain't about playing nice- it's about playing to live." He stalked off; I was left with the same uneasy feeling I had experienced at Otis' funeral. Those words would never come out of the mouth of the Shane I met at the quarry. "y'all gotta pick a gun and wait until somebody tells you how to load it and fire. Anyone shooting before then is getting sent back with their tail between their legs."

Carol went nice and simple, and picked out a compact handgun. I whistled appreciatively when I took a closer look at the make. "Got yourself a Taurus PT111. 13 Round capacity, and easy to fit into your waistband. Best thing 'bout it is that this here gun has a double action/single action slide mode."

"What does that mean? How do you even know this?"

"My old man sold guns, along with other stuff. And it means that if the round fails to fire, the gun'll switch into double action mode and let you strike the same primer again." I handed it back to her. "It's a good one. Now, for Sophia-" I rooted around the bag until I found what I was looking for. "This is a Bersa Thunder .380. It'll literally fit into your pocket, and the single action is light. It also has an external thumb safety for added protection."

"Thank you very much." Carol made sure Sophia kept the gun pointed away from her. "Ed kept rifles, but he wasn't much into handguns."

"Handgun'll do better than a shotgun or a rifle." I could still remember my first turn of a shotgun; I'd bruised my ribs from the kickback alone, which had knocked poor eight-year-old me to the ground. Dad has found it funny, until Mom had made him sleep on the sofa for a week because of it.

Everyone worked pretty damn hard. Rick and Shane had been surprised by Josie and Andrea, who both excelled at the handguns. Maggie was also a pretty good shot, as was Carl. Beth couldn't handle the kickback from the Beretta, and so Rick hastily switched it with a Glock to stop her from hitting herself in the face again. She hit the target twice in a row after that. Lori, Patricia and Glenn struggled to hit the target, as did Sophia.

Carol, however, took me by surprise. She missed the first time but hit the cans three times after that. At the end of the session, she put the gun down, looking mighty pleased with herself. As she tried to hand it back, I shook my head. "Keep it. I'm serious. I want you to be able to protect your little girl."

The group began to stroll back the way we had come from. As I walked behind Sophia, Shane stopped me. "Mind helping me pack all this shit up?"

"Sure," I agreed. As we gathered up everything that had been left behind, I noticed how unnaturally Shane was behaving. He followed me as I gathered the guns, moving from foot-to-foot like the ground was on fire. "what's up?"

"Rick told me about what happened in Atlanta, with that man." I gritted my teeth. First Dale, and now Shane. Was everyone going to hold this against me. "says you did it in self-defence."

"I did." I answered sharply.

"I know," He rubbed his head, placing another gun in the bag. "I wanted to talk to you, I know you'd understand-"

"This about Otis?" I finally put the question into place. Shane's eyes widened, and I knew the little voice in my head had been right to feel uneasy around him. The way he spoke about doing things to survive, shaving his head, the manic speech he had given at Otis' funeral. I should have put it together sooner.

"I didn't kill him, if that's what you think," Shane explained. "Look, we weren't gonna make it. He was injured, so was I. I had to think of Carl, it was the only thing on my mind."

"So you left him to die." I felt hollow. His story was echoing similar to my own. The feeble excuse I had given when Morales had been torn apart in front of me. Shane knew that. Shane felt I understood him.

"Either we both died, or it just had to be him," Shane hissed. His eyes were maddened, glittering with a renewed sense of justification. I'd been through it before though, I knew that there was a part of him that felt the guilt, the pain of sacrificing another human being. "So I shot him in the leg, and I took the bag and left him."

"You were just thinking of Carl." I reassured him. My heart was pumping wildly. Everyone was gone. They'd disappeared back to camp and I had stupidly stayed behind- alone- with Shane.

"I had to save him, I had to," Shane zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulders. "I couldn't let him die, couldn't let Lori go through that. Or Rick."

"I get it," It hurt to say it, because I really did get it. The more Shane talked, the more I understood his point of view. Hadn't I done the same thing with Morales? What made me better than Shane? "I can't judge you for it, but you have to tell the others."

"I can't," he snarled. "If I said anything now, the old man would throw us off the farm."

"Then at least tell Rick," I implored him. "he needs to know. You can't keep this to yourself."

Shane straightened, and clapped a hand over my shoulder. He nodded; the faintest smile touched his lips. "Give me some time, that's all. I just need... I just need time."

He stalked off ahead of me. For the first time since joining the group, I suddenly realised I didn't want to be alone.

I knew Shane's secret. And because I knew it, I was in danger.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

Daryl had collected a fair number of squirrels to hang by his tent. Some had been skinned and were covered in large amounts of salt. I gently twirled one on its string and found I was no longer as repulsed by the dead animal as I had been as a child.

I didn't notice Daryl emerge from his tent until I heard his voice behind me, husky and irritated. "You gonna ask before touching?"

"Oh, shit. Sorry" I looked between him and the squirrels, I had an idea. "Do you know how to skin them?"

"Course." He answered. His fingers twitched against his leg.

"You, uh, think you could teach me?"

"You mind repeatin' the reason you can't skin an animal?"

"We hunted as a group at home. Dad tracked, I shot, and Lucas did the skinning. I was meant to learn how, but that fell through." He just stared at me. I could never tell if that was dislike in his eyes, or if he just always looked like that. He had very blue eyes. "So... is that a no? Or..."

"Grab a squirrel and follow me." I did as I was told. My stomach flipped over; maybe I was nervous about doing it wrong? He didn't seem to have much patience. He made me follow him to the bucket of water and pointed into it. "Duck it."

"D-duck the squirrel?" I bit my lip. "Daryl, it's dead. I don't think we need to make sure."

"It's to wet the fur!" He snarled. "Dry fur sticks to the meat, unless you like a furry dinner."

"Ew."

"Yeah, exactly." I ducked the squirrel corpse into the water quickly and waited for more instructions. He beckoned for me to sit next to him, and I did so cautiously. I'd pissed him off once, I wouldn't be doing it again. "You got a hunting knife?"

"Yeah." I brandished my knife proudly. He nodded and continued.

"Make a cut just under the tail, on top of the tailbone. Try make it about 4 centimetres, and don't sever the tail attachment." I made the cut and felt my heart swell with pride. I was actually doing it! I hoped Daryl noticed that I was making progress. Though, did it even matter? "Now hold the squirrel and make some cuts at the back of the hind legs."

"Huh?"

"Needs a flap to stand on."

"Stand on!?"

"You wanna learn or not? Just do what I say." I tried to hold the squirrel and cut it at the same time, but my hand coordination wasn't working. I used my right hand to cut, but it made holding the squirrel awkward. It was much worse the other way.

Daryl had disappeared from my side. I felt him slide behind me, his legs coming to rest on either side of mine. Woah, way too close for comfort. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm helping. I'll hold it, and you cut."

"And you don't this is a little inappropriate?"

"No, why would it be?" He was either lying or just really, really naïve. "Now c'mon." He removed my hands and gripped the squirrel. It was much easier, and I managed to slice a neat flap of hide away from the animal. He moved from behind me and returned to his original seat. "Separate the hind legs from the skin. You have to pull the muscle using your fingers." And sure enough, the skin fell away from the hind legs.

"Am I doing good so far?"

"Yeah, pretty good." I stopped the frown I had building up. Couldn't he be a little less indifferent? "Hey, you payin' attention?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm paying attention."

"Good. Now, you gotta put the squirrel on a flat surface." He got up and dragged a log over. Had he always torn the sleeves from his shirts? "Put it down, then."

"Okay, okay."

"Grab the legs without skin, put your foot on that flap there, and pull it by the legs." I was amazed by how smoothly the skin pulled away. He put his hands over mine when I got to the front legs. "Stop there. You gotta use ya fingers to separate the skin and work the legs out." I waited for him to move his hands; I was already used to the warmth they were giving me. "Sorry." My hands were horribly cold when he let go. Still, I did as I was told, and removed the front legs. This time, Daryl encouraged me with the odd grunt of approval every now and again.

"And stop at the neck." His eyes met mine, and he handed me the knife whilst neither of us was really looking. My instructor cleared his throat and snapped his head back down to focus on the skinless corpse. "You, erm- you gotta cut off the head and limbs and stuff." Daryl looked down at the hunting knife and scowled. "Hold on, I'll get a proper knife for it- don't want you dulling yours."

I had time to collect myself while he was busy inside the tent. What the hell was I doing? I rubbed my hands to try and warm them again. It didn't work.

"Here." He shoved a much bigger knife in my face. "Should work."

It did. I was unmoved by the blood that leaked from the decapitated body with no limbs. The sky was getting darker now. I was getting colder. Daryl took the squirrel from me and began to remove the organs. Clearly my lesson was over.

"Gotta check the liver." He grunted, pulling out strings of intestines and other shit. I didn't care. I was miles away, thinking of something else.

What would it feel like to kiss Daryl Dixon? Maybe it was a stupid idea, or maybe I was just desperately lonely. I tried to imagine pressing my lips against his, right here and now. There was nothing romantic or nice about it; it was cold, anyone could see if they walked past the R.V, and Daryl was still holding a squirrel in one hand, and its liver in the other. My hands would remain by my sides, covered in blood and other fluids.

Before I could even consider whether I wanted to kiss him or not, he backed off and glanced at the liver. I flinched as it hit the grass. "Liver's wrong. Can't eat the meat." He dropped the squirrel and headed into his tent without another word.

I just stood there, and stared down at that pale, blotchy liver.

Chapter Text

I wasn't able to avoid Daryl the next morning; Carol and T-Dog had made breakfast for everyone. I sat in the seat next to him and avoided his gaze. I didn't know why I felt so ashamed. I hadn't actually done anything to be ashamed of. I had abandoned Daryl's brother. Even if I wanted to kiss him, there was a very good chance he didn't want to kiss me. I was lucky he even spoke to me after what I had done to him, to Merle.

The atmosphere in camp this morning was peaceful. There was laughing, and some really weird conversations going on between T-Dog and Dale. Josie was sat cross legged on the grass next to Sophia, and both of them were giggling over something.

I watched amusedly as Glenn fidgeted in the background. Every so often, his head would whip between Dale and Maggie Greene on the porch. His food would be cold if he kept this up. It was pretty nice food too.

He turned around, and his face was pale and sweating. Glenn had to take several shaky breaths before he spoke. "Um, guys. So... The barn is full of walkers."

My plate almost slipped out of my hand. I couldn't even tell who was angrier; Shane was shaking with silent fury, but Rick kept hissing "Shit!" under his breath.

The words kept repeating in my head, over and over again. They rushed through my bloodstream, drilled into my bones. The barn was full of walkers. The barn was full of WALKERS. How hadn't we noticed, why the hell hadn't Hershel told us? Anyone could have accidently stumbled upon that and panicked. They could have broken out. Josie could have gotten hurt or killed.

Surprisingly, it was Lori who was the first to start marching towards the barn. Shane followed suit, along with Andrea, Carol, and Rick. After much deliberation, I decided to head down, and I heard Daryl get up too. Everyone else stayed away- or were forced to by T-Dog and Dale.

The barn was eerily quiet. That was a good sign, there weren't too many inside. Shane put his eye to the space between the barred doors and swore. Whatever he saw wasn't good.

"You cannot tell me you're all right with this." He spat at Rick.

"No, I'm not, but we're guests here. This isn't our land." He was right, it wasn't our land. But it was our families at risk.

"We can't just sweep this under the rug." Andrea added. Shane agreed with her.

"It ain't right. Not remotely. Okay, we've either got to go in there, we've got to make things right or we've just got to go. Now we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time."

"And if Fort Benning doesn't exist?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I agree with you on this, but we still haven't found the kids."

"Those kids have been missing for just under a week, Liz. I think it's time we started realising that-"

"That what?" Carol snapped. Shane stepped back in shock as the usually timid woman tore into him. Even Daryl was surprised. "You want us to abandon two kids out in the woods because you believe they're dead? It's wrong, and you know that if it was Carl you would have decided differently." She took a long, drawn out breath, and then ducked her head down to her chin. Shane had been hit hard by her words, though he stood as resilient as ever.

"We're not leaving the kids behind. I'm close to finding them. I just found Eliza's damn doll two days ago." Daryl growled. Shane laughed in his face.

"You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did. You found a doll."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about." Daryl was enraged. I was struggling to stay focused on the subject. Inside the barn, the walkers were starting to get louder. The commotion out here was exciting for them.

"I'm just saying what needs to be said. You get a good lead, it's in the first 48 hours-"

"Shane, stop." Rick ordered. "Now just let me talk to Hershel, okay? Let me figure it out."

"What are you gonna figure out?!" Shane roared.

"If we're gonna stay, if we're gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land."

"Hershel sees those things in there as people... Sick people... His wife, his stepchildren." Dale stepped in. Shane turned to Dale with a sickened look ghosting across his face.

"You knew?"

"Yesterday." Dale confirmed. "I talked to Hershel."

I shook my head. This was too much. "Look, y'all can decide whatever you want, but I'm done. This, this isn't something we keep from the group." I walked away as fast as I could back to camp. It hurt to consider leaving, but this was the last straw. Rick was either crazy, or desperate to stay. I hated admitting Shane was right. I wanted to stay and help find Louis and Eliza, but if Rick couldn't gather the strength to sort out our problem without permission from an old man then I couldn't be here. It could only end with everyone at the farm getting hurt. I wasn't going to stick around and witness that. Not again.

"So that's it?" Lori stood behind me, arms folded. I hadn't even heard her follow me from the barn. "we get to one bump in the road and you're ready to take off, just like that?"

"Don't talk down to me like that," I snarled. "this ain't some bump in the road. The road is gone, and so am I."

"You know damn well this isn't about the barn." Lori accused. I narrowed my eyes, trying to understand where she was going with this.

"Oh, I can assure you it is."

"You're running because you're scared," she continued. "you're scared because you care about this group- and I know you care, I've seen the way you talk to people, the look in your eyes when you saw Carl walking again. But you're too much of a coward to stay and fight for us because you think you'll lose it all."

I laughed mockingly. But even Lori could tell it was false. My mind had betrayed me, it had done the last thing I wanted and attached itself to another group of people. I knew, in that instant, that if I admitted I cared, I would never leave. And I couldn't do that. Not if there was a chance Macon was still out there, alive.

"I'm the coward?" I asked. I knew I was taking it too far. I couldn't stop my mouth from running. "you- you're going to call me a coward?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I know about your little tryst with Shane," I boasted. Her face drained of colour. "Some wife you are, shacking up with your husband's best friend. Did you even wait till Rick's bed was cold before you-"

SMACK. My head snapped to the side as Lori's palm connected with my cheek. Pain flared up in my face like I had been doused in acid.

Lori's hands were clapped to her mouth. She shook herself from her trance and hissed at me, "Don't you dare try and play the good guy here. What happened with Shane was wrong, I know that. But how dare you sit there and try to make me out to be some villain- you're a killer!" She stormed past me, leaving me to clutch at my cheek in agony.

I stumbled back to camp, burning with shame. Lori was nowhere to be seen.

Josie pressed herself against me when I returned. Her frail arms wrapped around my waist and crushed me like a python. "Why would Hershel keep walkers in the barn?" Sigh. This would be a little difficult to explain. "Are we gonna get rid of them?"

I heard a chuff behind me. We were right next to Daryl's tent. He was holding a bunch of wooden sticks, and there were several on the floor already whittled. He was making crossbow bolts. That was a pretty damn handy skill to have; my own bow and arrow was useless because of its lack of arrows. There were only six or seven in the quiver.

I plastered on a fake smile and lowered myself onto my haunches to try and comfort my little sister. "Hershel's been on the farm this whole time. He thinks the walkers are just sick people."

"Are they?" I knew exactly what she was thinking of. Coloured lights and memories flashed into the forefront of my mind:

"I'm bitten! Just shoot- shoot me dammit!"

"I can't, I- no! I won't-"

"Stop hesitating! Do it! Do it do it do it do it-"

"Liz?" Josie's timid little voice freed me from the images in my head. "Are they sick?"

"No. No, once they turn, they're dead." She tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear and tutted. "Look at you, you lil' mother hen."

"You're upset." She concluded. That damn kid. She'd inherited Dad's ability to read faces like they were an open book. She would have made a good psychology student.

"I'm just tired, kid."

"You've been like this for a while now. It's weird. You're always so mean."

"I... Josie."

"It's like a different person replaced my sister." She added. She quickly changed the subject before I could ask what she meant. "I'm going to play with Sophia and Carl now. Andrea found us some crayons."

My smile dropped the second Josie skipped away to play with the other kids.

"We have three kids on this farm, and a barn full of walkers." I realised. Daryl said nothing, he only huffed and continued to whittle his own arrows, though I noticed that he was much more forceful with his knife; there were messy grooves in the wood.

God, I'd never felt so awkward in my life. I'd barely spoken to him since yesterday. I still didn't know how to speak to him. "You think Shane's right? That we should be forcing Hershel to open the barn and let us kill them all?"

"You don't?" He answered gruffly.

The arrow he had been whittling lay snapped on the grass.

"I think we need to kill them, but I just don't know what's the right way to go about it."

"Is there one?" Daryl questioned. I considered his answer, before shrugging.

"If we'd been back at the quarry, I might've even offered to kill them myself." God, when did I become so blunt? Josie's words were playing over and over again in my head, ' It's like a different person replaced my sister '.

I'd changed to survive. To help her survive after Hunter died. Before that, I was a woman who could barely function in this new world, because everything Lucas had done had been against my morals. Every person my twin had killed had been a nightmare in my head. Everything we stole, or every time we threatened people, a part of the person I was vanished.

Daryl had been silent the entire time I was thinking. The whittling had stopped. I heard the dull thunk of a knife into mud, shuffling footsteps through grass. "Daryl?"

"Yuh?"

"Back on the highway, you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"I asked if you thought I'd take off with Josie the moment I could. You didn't answer me."

"The hell does it matter?" Maybe he was right. Why did it matter that much? I'd considered leaving then, I wasn't now. Or maybe I was. It was easier when there were less people to worry about. Easier, but so lonely.

"Nevermind."

"Don't. I ain't stupid, y'all seem to think I can't tell when somethin's wrong." He let out a rough laugh. "thought you of all people would understand that." Ouch. He picked up his arrows and his sticks and made to brush past me. I thought fast and grabbed his arm as he tried to pass me. Daryl looked down at my hand, and back at me again. "hell you playin' at?"

"I'm confused."

"About what?"

"Nothing. Everything. I can't tell if I should run away or not," I whispered. I looked into those bright blue eyes of his. "Give me a reason to stay."

Daryl licked his lips, and gently pulled my hand from his arm. "Can't."

"Why not?"

"I wouldn't be speakin' for the rest of the group." He began to walk away, leaving me to try and figure out the riddle he had given me. What did that mean? When he said he couldn't speak for the rest of the group, did he mean his reason was selfish? Why?

"Need to talk?" I nearly jumped out of my skin as I twisted around to see Dale lurking behind me. Between him and Glenn, I was slowly losing my mind.

"Dammit, ain't you and Glenn got anything better to do but sneak around?" He chuckled.

"I don't sneak. I just don't get noticed all that much. Pretty handy when you're a nosy old man like myself."

"Yeah, well keep that nose of yours outta my damn business." He adjusted his shirt over the vest and ignored what I had said.

"You and Daryl having problems? I, uh, heard some very interesting stuff there."

"Oh, I am sure you did." I realised that alienating him probably wasn't a good idea at this moment. "Hey, can you keep this quiet? It's not for me, but I don't think Daryl would appreciate this gettin' out."

"How would you know? You didn't seem to give him much of a chance to talk about it."

"He walked away. You clearly didn't hear the conversation before that."

"Maybe. Or, maybe you're scared." Was everyone a mind reader today? "but that's your business, not mine. I'm here to talk about our other big problem."

"Right. The barn full of walkers." Which should have been the first thing on my mind. We were sleeping just a few feet away from a barn filled with creatures that were hungering for our blood and flesh. And Hershel knew. His entire family knew and hadn't said a word.

I should have left. Josie and I should have packed our shit and gone while we had the chance.

"I'm not sure if Shane's plan is a good idea." Dale sat down on the same log that I had skinned a squirrel on the night before. "He's dangerous. And I don't think he's been telling the truth about Otis."

"I know." I replied. Dale looked at me in disbelief.

"You know? What do you mean, you know?"

"He told me what happened. Yesterday." I confessed.

"You didn't think that something everyone needed to know?" Dale removed his hat.

"I didn't think it was my place to judge," I defended myself. "I've been in that position; I know how it feels. I told him to tell Rick."

"And has he?"

"I don't know," I pushed my greasy hair from my eyes. "but I need to go."

"Go? Go where?"

"As much as it hurts, I need to apologize to Lori."

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

I found Lori sitting inside her tent. Just before I pulled back the flap to say hello, I noticed the box of prenatal vitamins on the table.

Holy shit. No way. No. Freaking. Way.

There was a chance I said that last part aloud. She gasped and threw the box of pills to the side, and then dragged me inside with those strong but bony arms of hers.

"You can't tell anyone you saw those; you understand?" She demanded, shaking me vigorously. I was still in too much shock. Lori was pregnant.

"Does Rick know?"

"Of course he does!" She picked up the vitamins and gently placed them back onto the table. Her other hand cradled the non-existent bump. "Do you know where he is?"

"No. I thought you might know."

"He said he was going to talk to Hershel. He left a lil' while back." So where the hell were they?

They weren't in the farmhouse. I found Patricia and Beth watching me worriedly from the kitchen. Hershel must have already told his family about us finding the barn. I wondered what would happen now. Hershel would want to kick us off the farm for definite now. There would be no question about it.

For once, I found myself worrying about everyone else too. Their group was huge, and Rick couldn't control everybody, not with Shane acting the way he was. Andrea seemed to be glued to Shane's side these days too.

And there I went again. No matter how hard I tried to include myself, it was always 'Rick's group' or 'their group'. I couldn't afford to attach myself to them. Even if I did care for some of them. I knew that when Josie and I left, I'd constantly wonder about Carol and Sophia. And maybe even Dale, and Glenn, and Daryl. And most definitely Lori, who's current situation put her in serious danger.

They could be added to the list of people I was already worried about. Josie and I were obvious. But then there was Macon, out alone. And Barbara and Chiyo, who had left us to try and retreat to the countryside. And so many people on the Greyhound. The ones who had stayed behind when a group of us decided that waiting around had been a bad idea. Had the other Greyhound bus survivors lived? Was Ian okay, and Brianna and Rebekah and the other people I'd sat with?

Lori popped her head out of her tent as I walked back. I wasn't able to find Rick or Hershel anywhere. Surely, they wouldn't have left the farm. "Have you seen Dale? Glenn says he got him a glass of water, but when he got back Dale had left his post."

"Dale's gone?"

"Yeah. Shane just took off looking for him." She stepped outside and brushed dust from her pants. "I was headin' up to the house. We're all gonna wait up there until they get back."

"Uh, sure, I'll come up."

Lori had been right. Glenn was sitting on the porch with T-Dog and Andrea. Daryl and Carol were talking whilst Carol stroked Sophia's hair. Daryl waved me over, much to my surprise. The tips of his ears were red, and he began to vent the moment I was within hearing distance.

"This is bullshit. We got a bunch o'geeks in the barn and everyone's off playing God damn hide and seek!" He threw his arms up in anger. I felt the same, though I knew that expressing it the way Daryl was would just cause more trouble. I had to keep calm and try to be the sister Josie wanted me to be. "Oh, here we go."

There was someone moving in the distance. It was striding with just a slight limp. They came closer, and the shaved head gave them away

"The hell you been?" He ignored me and twisted the strap of the bag.

"What's all this?" T-Dog asked. Shane had the bag of guns. He held out a shotgun and offered it to Daryl

"You with me, man?" Daryl hesitated for a second but took the gun anyway.

"Yeah." Shane unzipped the bag and pulled out another gun, the Beretta this time. He threw it to me, and I caught it reluctantly, noticing Josie watching me the whole time.

"Time to grow up." He stated. "you already got yours?" Andrea nodded.

"Where's Dale?" she asked worriedly, glancing behind Shane.

"He's on his way." Shane handed a gun to T-Dog. When he offered one to Glenn, he refused. So, did everyone else he offered a gun.

"This really the way you wanna do this?" I questioned. If Shane did this, there was no going back. Maggie and Beth were already eyeing him with serious loathing in their eyes.

"It's the only way to do this, you know that. We gotta keep this place safe and secure." He tried to hand Hershel's family guns once more. "Can you shoot?"

"Can you stop?" Maggie spat, knocking the gun away from Patricia. "you do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight."

"We have to stay, Shane." Carl piped up. Shane knelt down to speak with Carl, just as Lori stepped outside. She looked around at the people holding guns in shock.

"What is this?"

"We ain't going anywhere, okay?" It was like he hadn't noticed Lori was there. Shane was busy trying to coerce Rick's son into taking a gun. "Now look, Hershel, he's just gotta understand. Okay? He... Well, he's gonna have to. Now we need to find Louis and Eliza. Am I right? Huh? Now I want you to take this. You take it, Carl, and you keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. You know how. Go on, take the gun and do it." Lori batted the gun down with enough force to make Shane's whole arm swing. She hissed and spewed poisonous words in his face. I was a little impressed.

"Rick said no guns. This is not your call. This is not your decision to make." T-Dog swore and gestured to something behind the barn. It was Rick, with Hershel and Beth's boyfriend, Jimmy. Jimmy was clapping and whistling.

And there were spooks on poles. This was how Hershel got them into the barn. Rick was helping them put yet more walkers in the barn.

Shane went ballistic. The gun came up, and he started bellowing. "What is that?" He took off running, and we were all forced to follow. Shane reached the barn first, roaring at Rick with such fury, like I'd never seen before.

Rick was trying to keep the male spook steady. Hershel was having less luck with the female. She snapped and snarled at Daryl as he circled her, shotgun at the ready. I kept mine up and focused on the male.

"Shane, just back off." Rick warned him. It was no use. Shane was a hurricane. He was out of control, and ready to get rid of both of the walkers at the drop of a hat.

"Why do your people have guns?" Hershel demanded.

"Are you kidding me? You see? You see what they're holding onto?"

"I see who I'm holding onto." Hershel retorted.

"No, man, you don't."

"Shane, just let us do this and then we can talk." Rick begged. Shane laughed maniacally.

"What you want to talk about, Rick? These things ain't sick. They're not people. They're dead. Ain't gonna feel nothing for them 'cause all they do, they kill! These things right here, they're the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis. They're gonna kill all of us." He was going too far. Sophia had started crying, cowering behind her mother. He was scaring people.

"Shane, you need to back off!" I snapped. He paid no attention to me, instead fixating on Hershel with beady eyes.

"Hey, Hershel man, let me ask you something. Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?" He shot the walker three times in the chest. She stumbled back, but kept coming, trying her hardest to break loose of the snare pole Hershel had wrapped around her neck.

"No! Stop it!" Rick's attempts were futile. Shane just kept talking and trying his hardest to make Hershel see.

"That's three rounds in the chest. Could someone who's alive, could they just take that?! Why is it still coming?" A shot to the heart. Then a shot to the lungs. Hershel looked devastated. The hope was vanishing from his eyes. I knew then and there that Shane was destroying the ideas he had clung to. The walkers were no longer sick people in his eyes. Hershel was finally seeing them for what they truly were.

"Shane, enough." Rick was pissed. Everyone looked at Shane, seeing him in a brand-new light. Even Daryl was looking at Shane like he had gone completely crazy.

This had gone too far. I had agreed to get rid of the walkers in the barn. I had not agreed to taunt the family that had taken us in, murdering what they saw as people before their eyes. Not just them, but the children too.

"Yeah, you're right, man. That is enough." The final bullet into the female was through her head. She crumbled and hit the floor unmoving. Hershel dropped the pole like it was on fire. Shane had turned to face everyone, he stood before the barn. "enough risking our lives for two kids who are GONE!" Carl whimpered and clung to his mother on the floor. "enough living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us. Enough. Rick, it ain't like it was before! Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you gotta fight for it! I'm talking about fighting right here, right now." He stormed to the barn doors. Hershel stood in silence as Rick shouted and begged for him to take the snare pole. I felt Daryl's hand on my shoulder, and we made eye contact.

Shane tore the wooden barrier from the door with more fury than I'd ever seen. It was like watching a rabid dog self-destruct; foam and spittle flew from his mouth as he backed away from the opened doors. His eyes were wild. His hands were shaking. He raised his gun and brought a finger to the trigger, ready to fire at whatever came first.

A female clumsily felt her way through the door. I heard Beth sob behind me and felt sorry for the poor girl. This should never have happened like this.

Shane felt no such pity. He fired once. The walker went down in a heap of emaciated flesh and bones. The other walkers began to snarl, and the doors opened further.

We had to help him. Andrea and T-Dog ran forward with guns at the ready. There were five dead walkers. Then ten. Then thirteen.

Daryl removed his hand from my shoulder and pumped the shotgun. He blasted the head of a walker, and a spray of blood painted the old barn. Sixteen. Twenty.

Rick no longer had a walker on a tether. Shane took care of that. I looked back at Lori and Carl on the floor. Carol was stopping Sophia from watching. And then Josie. She didn't pay any attention to the massacre, she looked at me. She was waiting to see what I would do.

The death count was rising but the walkers showed no sign of stopping yet. I drew in a deep breath, silently apologised to Hershel and my sister, and drew my gun. I got three.

For a moment I thought no more would come. Until I heard one small snarl. Someone had stayed inside.

The walker emerged from the darkness, and my heart stopped. Two small feet in brown trainers. Those familiar grey pants. The top of burnt orange. There was blood everywhere. Maggots and flies had begun to take up residence in a gory wound that stretched from its neck to its upper arm.

What used to be Eliza continued to stalk forward. The sun bothered her eyes, now gaunt and hollowed. She'd been inside for a while. Maybe since the day we had gone searching.

God, what did we do? I couldn't do it; I would not be the one to shoot that child. Even though it had been my responsibility to care for her. I'd let her entire family down. Her brother did not follow her from the barn. She was alone.

Daryl, Andrea, T-Dog, Shane. They all dropped their guns down to their sides. At that moment, I wanted to shoot Shane. He could talk the big talk, but when it came to actually killing a child he had wanted to leave behind, he couldn't. But then again, neither could I. I could kill the living, but not one long dead girl.

Rick moved forward with an aura of righteous determination. His Colt was raised, his eyes were steely. Lori was right; the man may make bad decisions, but in the end, he was always there. And now, here he was, facing his mistakes. Yet I still couldn't help but feel a little mad at him still. And I felt guilty for feeling that way. There was a cocktail of emotions in my bloodstream, a dangerous chemical mix threatening to boil over and burn everything it touched.

Eliza noticed him and growled. She continued to walk towards him with her mouth swinging open. One arm reached out for him.

"Don't," Daryl spoke softly. He pushed me backwards, using his shoulder to shield Eliza from my view. It was no use. The image of her frail, tiny body was burned into my brain.

Rick fired. And then she was gone. A little girl asleep in the hay, surrounded by bodies of Hershel's family and friends.

Nothing could make this right. Nothing.

Chapter Text

The only sound that could be heard was faint sobs from some of the Greene family. Beth broke away from Patricia's arms and climbed over the bodies. She found her mother and started to cry. "Ma..."

Annette Greene's eyes snapped open. She growled and tried to pull Beth down to her face. Beth began to scream. It was a bloodcurdling, frightened screeching laced with grief.

"Come on! Pull her away, pull her away!" T-Dog and Shane separated the girl from the monster. Andrea thought faster, yanking a scythe down from the barn wall. Annette snarled one last time, and then she was gored by the scythe. Beth just cried even more after that.

Hershel, aided by Maggie and Patricia, was walking back to the farmhouse. Shane took off after Hershel and shouted, "We've been out- we've been combing these woods looking for those kids and she was in there all along? You knew."

"Leave us alone." Maggie snapped. "We didn't know! Otis was in charge of putting those- things- inside the barn." Shane continued to argue. I didn't care anymore. We'd spent so much time looking for those kids. Even now, we'd only found one.

What would happen now? Hershel wanted us gone, and with Eliza dead, the chances of her younger brother surviving were looking less and less likely. He was out there, alone. We could only guess why they'd separated. All we had as evidence was a doll that belonged to Eliza.

All I could do was hang back, my mind tumbling down a hole as it tried to make sense of what had just happened.

The Morales siblings ran. Glenn had mentioned that one set of prints had been heading the right way, but then turned to follow the other set leading into the woods. Meaning that one of the siblings had tried to run away from the highway for some reason. But what had scared them? We would have seen a walker- unless it hadn't noticed the siblings, and then wandered further up the highway to re-join the herd. The kids wouldn't have risked going to the highway if they thought a walker was still there.

Maggie had said Otis was in charge of putting walkers inside the barn. Meaning that he had to have found Eliza the morning we went searching, just HOURS before Carl was shot. The only explanation then, was that Eliza had been bitten the night before that.

And the doll. Daryl had found it by the creek. That would explain why Otis found Eliza- she was close to the farm when she was bitten. She might have dropped the doll when she got bit. If her brother was with her, he'd have likely run away. That girl had been torn from neck and arm; she wouldn't have gotten far before she lost too much blood and died.

Shane approached me as Hershel and his family flocked into the farmhouse. Rick had already begun walking to camp. He cast a confused look our way before continuing his journey.

Shane's face was red. He looked at me with rabid eyes. I shuddered under his deranged gaze. Whatever had happened back there was still going on inside his mind.

"This is such bullshit," he ranted. He rubbed the back of his head hard enough to pull skin from bone. "We've been looking for two dead kids for nothin'. These people are crazy, man, they're crazy."

"Maybe," I agreed. "but you made that situation worse."

"Me?" he spat.

I pressed my lips together firmly, but it wasn't enough to hold back the flood. "What you just did was crazy, Shane. I wanted the walkers dead, I did, but I didn't think we'd be killin’ 'em in front of Hershel and his family!"

"So, what- what? You thought we were gonna nicely ask if we could kill his wife? His son?" Shane stepped closer, much too close for me to feel safe. The hairs on my arms stood up straight. I tensed the muscles in my legs, ready to run if I needed to.

"I thought we'd be handling it as a group-"

"Oh, you're part of this now?" He placed both hands on the back of his head and guffawed. "weren't a few hours ago. Hell, you straight up said you weren't with us back at the highway."

"Don't turn this on me-"

"Why not? Y'all seem quick to turn everything else on me. You think I wanted this? We could've been safe up at Fort Benning if we'd just done what I said in the first place."

"Fort Benning could be gone," I interjected. "and maybe we would have been able to get a lead on where Louis could have been, if you hadn't killed it."

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew who I meant. At the mention of Otis' death, Shane's eyes lit up like a match. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer. I struggled to break free from his bear-like grasp. My heart was going wild, beating so fast I was sure it was going to come flying from my throat.

"Now you listen damn hard," Shane breathed, tightening his grip. It felt like the bones in my wrist were going to shatter. "I was under the impression you understood me here. I trusted you with that, and man, I would just hate to have to-"

"The hells goin' on here?" A familiar, gruff voice demanded behind me. Shane dropped my wrist like I had burned him, stepped two paces back. He glared at Daryl as the man approached us. I felt like a baby deer, stuck between the stag and the wolf.

"Just a minor disagreement, Daryl, you carry on with your business." Shane answered coldly. He glanced between me and Daryl, as if wondering if he could take us both on.

"Don't look like it," Daryl snapped, advancing. He stepped in front of me, placing his body between Shane and I. "Why don't you back off?"

Shane rubbed the back of his head furiously but did as Daryl asked. With one last murderous glance my way, he stalked back to camp, slamming the door of Dale's R.V. shut behind him.

Daryl turned to me, lightly placing my wrist into his large palms. He turned my arm over, examining the slightly bruising left by Shane's powerful grip.

"He hurt you?" Daryl asked. His other hand gripped his crossbow tightly.

"A bit," I admitted, "ow!"

"Sorry," he was speaking softly, as if talking to a child. "What the hell did he want?"

"He... I don't even know, he went off about the barn and looking for the kids. All I did was tell him it wasn't the right way to do it."

Daryl dropped my wrist carefully. "He's paranoid."

"He's crazy, Daryl," I corrected him. "Ever since we got here, he's been getting worse. I think what happened with Otis has screwed with his head."

"What, 'cause he killed him?" Daryl replied. My eyebrows shot up. Since when had Daryl known?

"How did you..."

"Thought I was obvious. Shane said Otis gave his life and held off the walkers, but he came back with Otis' gun." Dear God, how had I missed that?

"He thinks it's just me. That I'm the only one who knows." I realised. Shane had threatened to kill me. Or at least, he had been trying to, before Daryl saved me. I'd told Shane on the highway that I planned on leaving. How was I so stupid? I'd played right into his hands, and now I had put myself in danger. Most importantly though, had I put Josie in danger?

Daryl's reaction was worse. He placed his hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes. "What did he say?" he asked concernedly.

I swallowed, trying to process the fear that filled me. It had chilled my bones, paralysing me. Quietly, I whispered, "I think he threatened to kill me."

Daryl's eyes widened. He stepped back, pacing back and forward. I could see the colour washing from his neck, travelling deep beneath his shirt.

"The hell with this!" he snarled. Suddenly, he began to barrel down to camp. I rushed to stop him, placing my hand on his chest and pushing him back.

"No- Daryl, NO!" He looked at me, confused, and perhaps even a little hurt. I removed my hand from his chest and explained myself. "If you go down there and confront him, he'll lie. Rick doesn't listen to a word anyone says about Shane, he's too loyal. Don't put yourself in danger for me. Please."

"He shouldn't have put his hands on you!" Daryl snapped. His face was painted red again. "It ain't right."

There was a steely edge to his voice. It cut deep, a jagged maw filled with unfiltered rage and a much more personal connection than he was letting on. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure this was about me.

"It ain't," I agreed. "but you can't win this fight, not right now."

Slowly, Daryl's heavy breathing stopped. He looked at me, a flicker of understanding shadowed his face. Wordlessly, he walked past me, past camp. It was then I noticed his tent had been moved. It was now set up on a small hill, a stone throw away from camp. My heart sank. I knew he had been optimistic about finding Louis and Eliza. Now that one of them had been found dead, Daryl had done what he did best. Bury it, and retreat into himself. I knew the feeling all too well. It was a shell I had yet to really emerge from. The outside world was too cruel, too hopeless. Better to not hope at all.

I found myself back at the barn, observing as the others carried bodies to a truck. All except Hershel's family and Eliza. They had been laid out, covered in bedsheets.

Andrea threw another corpse into the truck bed and walked over to join me, rubbing grime from her hands. "You doin' okay?"

"Of course," I replied. I tensed when I spotted Shane behind the wheel of the truck. He glanced at me but turned away as quickly as he had stared. "You agree with all this?"

"This?" she repeated. I gestured to the barn, and the bodies crumpled in front of it. She paused, breathing in the real question I had meant. "I think it needed to be done."

"Like this?"

"Maybe not exactly the way it went, but Shane got it done, I didn't see Rick helping."

"Rick never got the chance," I argued. "I agreed with Shane about killing the walkers, but it wasn't right. Not in front of Hershel's family, and certainly not in front of the kids."

Andrea motioned for us to help pick up more bodies. I followed, grabbing the legs of a woman as Andrea held the arms. She spoke as we carried it along to the truck. "Shane's doing what's best for us."

"Shane's doing what's best for Lori and Carl." I countered pointedly. Andrea bit her lip, glancing at Shane.

"You knew?" She whispered.

I chuckled. It seemed Lori and Shane's secret hadn't been so secret after all. "Put it together, I wasn't completely convinced I was right until I confronted Lori about it. You?"

"Amy. She saw them heading into the forest, one after another. They thought they were being smart about it." As she mentioned her sister's name, I watched as her face slipped. Andrea was good at playing the tough girl, but Amy's death still haunted her. Occasionally, the mask fell, and I got a glimpse of the hurting woman beneath it.

"Well, I stand by what I said," I added. We dropped the body into the truck bed. I wiped my hands on my jeans and grimaced. "he's not the same guy I met back when I first arrived."

"Things change," Andrea replied. "I'm not sure why he's being like this, but I have to believe it's for the group."

"You can't go around givin' everyone a second chance, Andrea." I warned her. She trusted Shane far too much. I didn't know why, but I knew he would throw her to the spooks at the first sign he was in danger.

I left them to their work and followed the trodden path in the field back to the campsite. Stopping to check on Josie, and I continued up and up, climbing the incline that led to Daryl's new camp.

There were squirrel skins hanging from a line up by the hill. Daryl had built up a fire and made quite a nice little survival camp for himself. The man himself, however, was nowhere to be seen. Because of my past experience with Dale and Glenn being sneaky bastards, I kept my guard up.

Daryl had some sort of bark wrapped in filter paper; it was boiling inside a pan of water over the fire. I didn't question why; it wasn't at the top of my list of questions right now. I was hoping to talk to Daryl, and maybe figure out something. Without it being awkward, if possible.

The tent rustled, and the hunter himself glowered at me. He turned his back on me and started fussing with the animals hanging from the lines. So he was avoiding me now. Then again, he seemed to be avoiding everyone. "You wanna tell me why you moved up here?"

"No." He snapped. I bit my lip to stop myself from tearing into him.

"Listen, Daryl, I'm a little concerned here."

"Why? I ain't doin' nothing."

"Is this about Eliza, because-"

"Screw you. This is about this damn group. It's broken. Shane's went bat shit and Rick ain't got the damn balls to say anything!"

"Oh, so the solution is to hide up here? We've still got to find Louis."

"That kid is DEAD!" He roared. "You're as stupid as them to believe you got a chance at finding him."

"I know he's dead!" I spat, finally losing it. Daryl flinched against the wave of rage I finally let loose. "but I gotta try! Damn it, I got a sister down there who thinks I'm a piece of shit, and I have no idea what I'm meant to do." I took a deep breath and tried to force my emotions back into place. I could feel the tears rising. "I know I should leave, but I feel like I want to stay. I got a brother out there somewhere who I'll never see again, and I've tried- I've tried so hard to pretend I've gotten used to the way shit is and I can't anymore," I'd put him into a very horrible position. Daryl seemed lost, he rocked back and forth on his heels, glowering at me. I took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head. "so, you can sit up here and mope around and act like a whiny bitch, or you can grow the hell up and talk to me. All y’all act like you got it real bad, but you were all cosy in the quarry for two whole months. I was on the road; I saw walkers kill people; people turn into walkers- people killing people. I see them- Rick, Dale, T-Dog, they look at me and they remember the man I killed in Atlanta, what happened to Morales, to Merle." I collapsed onto the ground. Surprisingly, Daryl lowered himself into the grass and sat with me. "I'm not a bad person. I'm not. I did what I had to in order to survive."

"I know." He said finally. His face was stony and impenetrable. If he was hurt by the mention of Merle, he had hidden it well.

We sat there in silence for a while. And I felt better for it. Just two people, with a shared grief, trying to make it work in a world that had chewed them up and spat them back out.

And below us, a fire fed by corpses burned secrets beyond the barn.

⊱ ─── {⋆⌘⋆} ─── ⊰

Apparently, we'd missed half the drama down in camp whilst we had been sat on the hill. Beth had collapsed. "Shock." Patricia later told me. "That poor girl just watched her family get slaughtered."

Hershel was missing. We'd just missed Rick and Glenn, who had taken a car and went after him. Maggie and Lori were both huddled together on the porch, waiting for them to come back. That meant Shane was in charge, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Did I trust him to make the decisions that needed to be made? Yes. Did I trust him to put everyone's needs in his mind when making those decisions? Well, today was an excellent example of how he failed that.

"When's the funeral?"

"We were going to wait until Rick and Glenn got my dad, but it's been an hour now." Maggie was worried. "My dad's been drinking again. I've got enough to worry about with Beth, and now this..."

"He'll be okay, Maggie. Glenn won't leave him there; he cares for you too much." Maggie beamed and gave me a brief hug. It felt nice to be hugged. I was glad that I could call Maggie a friend too. If we had met before the infection, I imagined that we would have gotten along even then.

I walked beside Daryl when the group went to the funeral of the people we had lost. They were buried next to Otis. I stood back and watched as Carol volunteered to bury Eliza. Sophia ran forward just as the first pile of dirt was shovelled up. "Wait!" She presented Eliza's doll to Carol. "She should have this." The doll joined Eliza when she was buried. It was only a shame that we didn't have Hershel to say a prayer over them. I wasn't a believer, but sometimes it helped ease the pain of others.

I felt nothing throughout the entire service. No remorse, no guilt, no sadness. I'd poured out all my feelings and my anger to Daryl on that hill. It had been a very cathartic experience. One I had needed for quite some time.

Daryl stopped me as I was leaving. He stood silent, waiting for everyone to pass us by. As the last person left the makeshift graveyard, he spoke. "I don't think it's safe for you to be stayin' in camp."

"Just figured that out?" I asked. I'd had the same thought myself. If Shane was serious, then I had reason to be cautious. He had left Otis to die, all it took was one chance, and I couldn't be sure Shane wouldn't risk it. He had too much at stake.

"I was thinkin' you move your tent up the hill." Daryl said. He sounded unsure, as if questioning his own words.

"Excuse me?"

"Just an idea," He quipped. Oh, he thought I was offended. Quite the opposite really. I wanted to say yes, and to move my tent up to the hill. But Josie wouldn't be very pleased with that; unlike me and Daryl, Josie loved being a part of a big group, a family. She felt no desire to hide away from people and spend time alone some days. "wasn't saying you had to."

"No- I agree with you, but I got a sister who likes being down here." He nodded in understanding and slouched off to his new camp. I'd forgotten that being alone wasn't the same as being lonely. "Daryl- wait!" He turned around to stare at me with that constant glare on his face. "I can see if Josie will stay in the R.V with Carol." I didn't mention that the extra bed set up inside had been for Louis and Eliza. It was still too real for either of us to process so quickly.

"It don't matter, really. I ain't needing you up there or anything." He backtracked.

"I know."

"Don't split you and the kid up just 'cause I asked or anything, really-"

"Daryl." I interrupted him. " I know ." He stalked off towards the hill. I couldn't quite say he'd asked because he enjoyed my company, but at least I knew he didn't want me to die.

I looked around camp for Josie, and finally found her in the R.V. with Dale, Carl and Sophia. Dale looked at me with that friendly, if slightly judgy, stare of his. I ignored him. He got up, busying himself with cleaning the bedroom in the back.

"Hey kids, could I talk to Josie for a moment."

"Sure." Sophia replied. "Jo, we'll be with Carl's mom." I laughed as they both walked away.

"Jo, huh? That's new."

"I kinda like it." She answered, smiling.

I sat down next to her and she cuddled into my side. "Carl heard you talking to Daryl."

"Oh. Did he tell you..."

"Yeah." She squeezed my waist. "I can stay with Sophia and Carol. They already said yes." It faintly hurt to hear that she wasn't upset that I was leaving her down here. "Is it because Daryl's your boyfriend?"

"What- no! It ain't anything like that." There weren't even romantic feelings involved here. Lust and loneliness tended to appear at the worst moments, that's all.

"Okay then," She didn't sound very convinced. "Can I go play with Carl and Sophia now?"

"Of course, kiddo." I smiled at her. She got up, and I noticed her hair had been pulled into an elaborate braid. I imagined Lori or Carol had done it for her.

Dale's head peered around the wall as the door shut. "Children, huh? Always in a rush to be somewhere, so long as it's somewhere exciting, of course." He returned to his seat with a glass of water, across from me.

"What do you want?" I asked. Dale rarely made light conversation.

"I wanted to know if you were alright." He became serious all of a sudden. The humorous twinkle in his eye was gone. "I know, back at the CDC, you promised Miranda that you would look after her children. I'm worried that this is affecting you a lot more than you seem to let on." He was a psychic, I swore it. The man seemed to know everything about everyone.

"I couldn't kill it." I admitted.

"What?"

"I couldn't kill Eliza. When she came outta that barn, I froze. I told Miranda that I'd take care of her children- I failed." I felt a laugh escape my throat. It burned. "I even felt angry because Shane couldn't finish what he started. I've killed the living but couldn't kill a little girl long dead." I looked at Dale pleadingly. I needed some sort of reassurance, some comfort. "Does that make me a hypocrite? Or a coward?"

"It makes you human." He answered. "We forget that even at our lowest, there is always something deep within ourselves that could pull us back at the drop of a hat." He had taken off his own hat to prove this point. "although some people seem to do that backwards. They pretend to be good men, when they're really monsters inside."

"Talkin' about Shane?"

"Shane seems to believe he- and only him- knows what's best for this group." He glanced outside the window warily. "Back at the quarry, Shane had his gun locked on Rick. He could've killed him right then and there."

"And you didn't tell anyone about this?"

"And have what happen? He's threatened me more than once, and I fully believe he's capable of killing me- or anyone who happens to cross him." He examined my face, those wise old eyes squinted. There were crow's feet in the corners. "But I think you already knew that."

"Shane... is difficult to place. He isn't just doing things for the sake of it. He's obsessed with survival. And I think he's jealous of Rick."

"Of course he is. He's already upset over Lori, and with Rick coming back and taking control it's just getting worse and worse."

"Does everyone know about Shane and Lori?" I asked, resisting the urge to laugh.

"Anyone who was paying attention. Me, Amy, possibly Andrea. I'm almost certain Daryl knows," He crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. ""Amy noticed first, she always saw them sneaking off together. She was a smart girl."

"He threatened to kill me too," I confessed. Dale's eyebrows disappeared under his hat. "because of what I knew about Otis."

"He's become very dangerous," Dale exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air. "If we continue to let him make decisions, I'm worried he'll end up getting us all killed."

Carol burst into through the R.V. door.

"Have either of you seen Lori?"

"No, why?"

"She's missing. I think she went after Rick."