Walking Dead 1. ColdSweat

**A/N:** this story continues where **_Road to Nowhere_** left off. If you're joining us for the first time, please go to my profile page and start with part one. It simply won't do to start here. :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or hold any rights whatsoever to any of the Walking Dead characters, living, dead or undead. I take no credit for Robert Kirkman's storylines or any other of his creations, as he is a jedi master and must not be disrespected in such a way. I do however take credit for my own OCs and original thought processes. Please respect my ramblings and do not borrow or steal. Unless you happen to be Robert Kirkman and would like to borrow them for awhile. Thank you!

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><p><em>Lost the meaning of our stay<em>  
><em>Learn to live another day<em>  
><em>Doubt the choices that we've made<em>  
><em>I know that we can't hide our shame<em>  
><em>It's only in disguise<em>  
><em>Drowning in our own debris<em>  
><em>Fool our thoughts as though we're free<em>  
><em>Close our eyes so we can see<em>  
><em>The depth of all we mean to be<em>  
><em>If only in my eyes<em>

_I don't mind_  
><em>(Read the writing on the wall)<em>  
><em>Mother cries<em>  
><em>(Tortured voices as we crawl)<em>  
><em>Find me on my better days<em>  
><em>To lose it once again<em>  
><em>In a way<em>

_So try and love me while you can_  
><em>And take the time to understand<em>  
><em>As long as I can touch your face<em>  
><em>You know I'll never leave this place<em>  
><em>If only in my mind<em>

_I don't mind_  
><em>(Read the writing on the wall)<em>  
><em>Mother cries<em>  
><em>(Tortured voices as we crawl)<em>  
><em>Find me on my better days<em>  
><em>To lose it once again<em>

_But I seem to find out better ways_  
><em>To consciously pretend<em>  
><em>Silence all I want to say<em>  
><em>And it seems to run away<em>  
><em>I'll run away with you tonight<em>  
><em>Launder all my sins away<em>  
><em>And just like that mistakes are made<em>  
><em>You know<em>  
><em>Tonight the world dies...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Coldsweat<strong>

"I should have stayed in Atlanta," Alexis Reilly mumbled to herself.

The streets of Boston, Massachusetts were coated with freshly fallen snow that crunched under her boots and occasionally tumbled off power lines above her head to land with soft thumps that startled her every time. With the absence of normal street noise, those thumps seemed unnaturally loud and she gripped her machete in her glove-covered hand tightly as she walked. She'd forgotten where she was headed exactly, and now that she thought about it she wasn't sure how she'd gotten here in the first place. She crossed a deserted street after quickly checking around for unwelcome visitors, but nothing moved at all for as far as she could see. She was pretty sure she'd just been having a conversation with Rick Grimes, he'd been showing her how to take apart, clean and reassemble her gun. No... it wasn't Rick, it was Daryl Dixon she'd been talking to while he restrung the wire on his crossbow.

Alexis took a good hard look at her surroundings and realized she was on Brighton Avenue. There wasn't a single car in sight. Even with an apocalypse in the recent past, there would always be cars parked on the streets of Boston. It was just the way it was. Too many cars and not enough parking spaces for everyone. Nothing made any sense, but that was hardly anything new. Her three-story brownstone condominium was on the corner just about two blocks away, she realized._ Home._ How long had it been since she'd been able to say she was home? She dreaded what she might find inside... dead plants, dead cat, maybe the place had been looted in her absence... or worse. But it was still home, and presented the possibility of safety, and she broke into a run as the building drew near.

The snow grew deeper in the shadow of the building, and a heavy drift had blown across the five concrete steps that led to her door. But she plowed on through it without hesitation and reached the door in seconds. The once-vibrant blue paint had peeled and faded to a dull gray long ago, and she felt a strange sadness in her heart as she turned the knob with fingers numb from wind and cold. The air inside was stale and dusty with a cloying remnant of overly-fragrant flowers just below the surface. The smell reminded her of her grandmother's house, which she had only visited once during her less-than-pleasant childhood years.

Dust billowed up from the floor as she pushed the door shut, making her cough and sneeze a few times as she waved her hands in front of her to clear the air. Music drifted to her ears from somewhere in the house... classical. More Peter's taste than her own, but she recognized the haunting, melancholy sound of Mozarts' _Serenade in B Flat_ immediately. She found herself in the kitchen, but it wasn't her own modernly customized sleek granite-and-steel cooking space anymore.

Cheap linoleum stained from years of wear and dirt and curled up at the corners felt almost squishy under her feet. The cabinets were old and nearly falling off the walls, the refrigerator rusting and leaning to one side, the stove little more than an electric hotplate. A wide, deep farmer's sink with a hose attached from outside stood in the corner, the only source of water in the entire house. A rat scurried out from under the sink and ran across her feet, causing her to gasp and jump back a step. An overflowing trashcan stood next to the sink, and she could see it was swarming with cockroaches.

She found her eyes immediately drifting up to the hand-painted plaque that she knew would be hanging over the doorway.

_"Wail, for the day of the Lord is near; as destruction from the Almighty it will come! ~ Isaiah 13:6"_

"Oh my god," she said out loud, and turned to leave the small, filthy kitchen immediately. But the doorway she'd come through just a moment before was gone, and she found herself looking at the wall. She spun around again and looked at the doorway across the room, realizing that she'd have to go through the house to get out the front door... _But I just came in the front door... MY front door. In Boston. But this house isn't in Boston... I don't want to be here...I can't be here..._

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she realized where she was, but she bit back on panic and dashed forward. _Through the doorway, down the hall, past the living room and right out the front door... easy. No problem..._

"Alexis."

The whispery voice came out of nowhere, right behind her as she reached the front door and put a hand on the latch that had always been broken, for as long as she could remember. She closed her eyes, knowing who it was immediately but not willing to turn around and face him. Her hand froze on the latch as she heard his steps coming closer, then the slightest touch of a hand on her shoulder, a tug at her hair. She took a deep breath and lowered her hand, then quickly sidestepped so he wasn't touching her anymore and turned to face him. For a moment she could only stare at him, the familiar brown eyes and crooked smile, then she shook her head and closed her eyes again.

_I'm dreaming, that's all... he's gone... it's just another fucking dream just like all the others. Nightmares. Everyone's having them..._

"I want to wake up," she said out loud. "Peter... just let me wake up." She edged sideways back to the door again, refusing to look at him. She sensed more movement and glanced back to see more figures shuffling down the hallway, more faces, some that she knew and recognized. Dead faces. One in particular stood out from the others, and she heard herself gasp as she scrambled for the door.

"One tiny moment," said a new voice behind her. "A millisecond. No pain. Wouldn't it be kinder, to be more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?" Alexis yanked at the door handle, but for the first time in years it was closed fast.

"No," she said to Doctor Edwin Jenner without turning around. "Open this door, now."

"Observations," said Jenner. "Removal of the belt around the subject's neck revealed a ligature mark (known throughout this report as Ligature A) on the neck below the mandible. Ligature A is approximately 1.5 inches wide and encircles the neck in the form of a "V" on the anterior of the neck and an inverted "V" on the posterior of the neck, consistent with hanging. Minor abrasions are present in the area of Ligature A. Lack of hemorrhage surrounding Ligature A indicates this injury to be post-mortem..."

"Shut up!" Alexis shouted, and clamped her hands over her ears to drown out Jenner's monotone rambling.

"Primary power supply offline," he said. "Full system failure. Thirty minutes to decontamination."

She pushed past him and ran into the living room, intending to break a window and climb outside into what would hopefully be the real world. But Peter was there, standing next to the only window and watching her with a strange expression on his face. Alexis hesitated, then carefully approached him. He didn't move, only watched her with an unfamiliar glint in his eye. The window was open, and she could hear voices just outside. It sounded like Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon talking. The faint whiff of smoke from a campfire, something cooking over the flame.

"Let me go," she said to dead Peter, and stepped forward with her machete raised. He still hadn't moved, but as she drew closer she could see his skin changing color before her eyes. It faded to gray, then mottled pools of yellow spread beneath the surface and pushed out, sickening fluid running down his face. She stared in horror as he started to rot right before her eyes, then opened his mouth and snarled at her hungrily. She stumbled backwards and raised her weapon, but found she couldn't swing it at him even as he grabbed hold of her and pulled her within reach of his broken, rotting teeth.

She heard herself screaming as her dead brother's teeth sank into the flesh of her arm, and shoved at him in a too-late attempt to escape. Suddenly there were more hands on her, more snarling in her ears and more teeth tearing at her flesh. She screamed louder, fought harder, and a mindless terror seized her soul as she realized they were eating her alive and she was helpless to stop them. She felt her own blood running, dripping onto the floor and pooling around her feet as Peter, Jenner and ... _Shane Walsh_... feasted greedily upon her flesh...

"Lex!" she felt hands gripping her upper arms, and they gave her a quick hard shake. She recoiled immediately and scrambled to get up and back away, but the voice called her name again and she opened her eyes to find herself in complete darkness. She struck blindly at whatever was in front of her, but the hands on her arms only tightened.

"Ouch! Stop it... yer dreamin!" Alexis heard her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps but she forced herself to swallow the panic and focus as she recognized the voice.

"Turn on the light," the words tumbled out so fast she wasn't sure they even made sense. Daryl still gripped her arm with one hand, but she felt him fumbling around in the dark with the other, then heard a click and blinked as light flooded the small tent.

"Holy shit!" she said out loud as Daryl turned the flashlight so it was pointing away from her face but still gave her enough light to see that she'd ransacked the immediate area with her thrashing.

"Holy shit is right," he said. "Heard you hollerin' like that and I thought a walker had got past us somehow. You okay?" He reached over and pushed her hair out of her face, and she grabbed at his arm as if to steady herself.

"Walkers?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"Peter," she whispered.

The tent opening moved behind him and Alexis jumped slightly as Rick Grimes leaned inside. He was also carrying a flashlight, and shone it around inside the tent like every other police officer who had ever come to protect and serve.

"No walkers," said Daryl.

"What about snakes?" Rick sighed, and crouched in the doorway to smile gently at Alexis. "I once screamed louder than that after a snake got into my tent."

"No snakes," she said. "I'm sorry if I woke anyone... it was just a bad dream."

"We were on watch," said Rick. "Daryl took your turn so you could sleep."

"That worked out well," Alexis grumbled, and Rick smiled at her again as he withdrew and closed the tent flaps behind him. Daryl hovered uncertainly as Alexis stood up and straightened out her sleeping bag then pulled her hair back into a loose knot and sat back down on the cot and used the bottom hem of her shirt to wipe sweat off her face.

"It's hot in here," she remarked, and Daryl frowned. Winter had arrived just a short time ago, and the inside of tent was just far enough above freezing to not be unbearable, but certainly not warm enough to make her sweat like that.

"Are you kidding?" he set his crossbow down and lit the small oil lamp that sat on the small cooler near the cot. They'd switched up Daryl's small one-man tent for a "family size" setup large enough to actually stand in, and somewhere over the last month Alexis had decided that camping in the portable "house" was as close to home as she'd been in a long time. She watched Daryl as he lowered the wick until the flame was barely showing, then switched off the flashlight and straightened up. He was wearing one of the heavy winter coats Alexis had grabbed during the last raid in Atlanta, and she noticed for the first time that the hood was damp as he took it off and tossed it onto his own cot on the other side of the tent.

"It's snowin' outside," he said, and sat down next to her to take off his boots. "And it's fuckin' freezing in here. Musta been a hell of a dream." Alexis didn't reply immediately, just watched as he unlaced the boots and then kicked them off.

"I was in Boston, at my old place," she finally said. "But then it turned into... another place, and Peter was there. Others, too. They surrounded me, and they were... eating me. I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn't wake up... Jesus, Daryl. Shane was there. And Jenner. It was... _weird_."

"Carl's been havin' nightmares about Shane every night. Move." Daryl gave her the slightest of pushes and she moved over so he could lay down. "Ain't so weird that others might be havin' dreams, too."

"I guess not," Alexis yawned, then shivered. "You're right, it's cold in here."

"C'mon, then. I'll warm ya up."

* * *

><p>Rick clicked at the walkie-talkie's transmitter a couple more times, then ejected the dead batteries with a sigh and tucked the radio into his pocket. His twice-daily attempts to communicate with Morgan had fallen to the wayside more than once over the last month, and the camp's meager supply of batteries was growing thin again. He'd left another note for Morgan at the motel, telling him which direction they'd gone, but he was starting to wonder if his friend had ever even made it to the quarry to see the first one.<p>

They'd buried Shane Walsh almost a month ago, and even with the unpleasant circumstances surrounding his death his absence was still the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room. Carl had dealt with the trauma of what he'd done - what he'd had to do - by retreating into a comatose sleep almost immediately, then having horrible, vivid nightmares every night afterwards without fail. Lori had not left his side for a moment, and Rick hovered close to them both. Shane's actions had shaken everyone to the core. Even though he'd been known to show an explosive temper that rivaled even Daryl Dixon's, Shane had been the rock they'd all clung to when uncertainly threatened to overwhelm them all. He'd assumed responsibility for their safety and acted as a leader and protector very early on, and even when he began to unravel before their eyes everyone continued to hope that the old Shane would surface again. But like so many other hopes, that one had died as well.

Winter had fallen upon them with a vengeance in the form of early snow less than two days after they'd departed from the roadside motel outside Atlanta. While it certainly was not a blizzard, none of the vehicles were equipped for winter driving and conditions quickly grew dangerous enough that they'd decided to set up a winter camp and hope for the best. Without the luxury of plows and municipal workers to keep the roads clear of ice and snow, their very survival might depend entirely on how much snow decided to fall. Rick decided to be grateful they weren't in Vermont, or any other of the northern states, which would surely already be buried in heavier snow by now.

They'd spent the first couple of nights at a rest area, then decided to venture further off road and away from any towns or cities. It hadn't taken long to find what had once been a privately-owned campground far enough off the road to make it unlikely for walkers to accidentally stumble in.

The area was not very large, and had only the one road leading through to the highway on both ends. It was mostly a visitor's information center with several RV hookups and room for about a dozen tents. There were no buildings to speak of, save for a single small kiosk once used to store road maps and pamphlets of attractions in the surrounding area, and one small building housing rest rooms and showers. Nothing worked, of course, and the doors were chained and padlocked shut when they arrived. Judging from the amount of rust on the chain they had been locked for several seasons already. Three half-rotted picnic tables stood behind the restrooms, indicating that the area had once been used for vacationing tourists. They made excellent firewood, at least. The campground sat on several acres of pine forest, and everyone was once again reasonably well fed as soon as Daryl was fully recovered from his injuries and began hunting regularly.

The camp was as much home as the old quarry site had been. The quarry and lake was a luxury they all missed, but there was a steam that ran to a river a mile or so back into the woods, so they once again found themselves able to live with the bare minimum provided by mother nature. Daryl had been teaching Carl to hunt small game, something that surprised Rick, but he could find no real reason to object since the useful skill would at the very least help the boy learn how to handle himself in the outdoors, and might even help take his mind off Shane Walsh. Much to Lori's discontent, Daryl still referred to Glenn as_ the Chinaman_ and regarded T-Dog as someone to be tolerated but not fully trusted. Rick supposed that growing up with Merle the loudmouthed racist molded a person into someone who found change very difficult to handle. But so far, he'd seemed to handle it quite well.

He insisted they keep up the practice of watch shifts, and with Andrea and Alexis adding themselves to the roster they had more than enough sets of eyes to make that task easier. Even as the small group settled into a wary sense of contentment, Rick watched the woods every night and found himself wondering when the walkers would appear to run them off again. If not walkers, something else. There would always be something else waiting to surprise them, this much at least he knew for a fact.

The day Daryl came out of the woods with a freshly-killed young deer and reported that he'd found the remains of another camp several miles away, Rick knew that their brief hiatus from the world might have already come to an end.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Avenged Sevenfold, _Tonight the World Dies_


	2. No Guts, No Glory

_There's no earthly way of knowing_  
><em>Which direction we are going<em>  
><em>There's no knowing where we're going<em>  
><em>Or which way the wind is blowing<em>  
><em>Is it raining? Is it snowing?<em>  
><em>Is a hurricane a-blowing?<em>  
><em>Not a speck of light is showing<em>  
><em>So the danger must be growing<em>  
><em>Oh, the fires of hell are glowing<em>  
><em>Is the grisly reaper mowing?<em>  
><em>Yes! The danger must be growing<em>  
><em>For the rowers keep on rowing<em>  
><em>And they're certainly not showing<em>  
><em>Any signs that they are slowing<em>  
><em>Stop the boat...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>No Guts, No Glory<strong>

"Right there," Daryl handed Rick the binoculars and pointed across the frozen pond at a line of trees on the other side. "Just to the left of that stump an' about a hundred feet in."

He blew on his hands to warm them as Rick looked through the binoculars for a couple minutes. They were standing on the edge of a small clearing, just a short walk from where Daryl had found what appeared to be an abandoned campsite while out hunting the previous day. He'd found nothing to make him think that anyone was still there, but with a freshly killed deer slung over his shoulder he didn't dare lingering in one place for too long for fear of attracting walkers.

"How many do you think there are? Or were?" Rick asked. Daryl shrugged and glanced back to see Glenn coming up closer to have a look for himself.

"I dunno. Saw a few tracks, four maybe five different sets. I couldn't hang around to watch with a fresh kill, so no idea if they come back later." Rick zoomed in closer with the binoculars and watched for another moment, until he was satisfied that nothing moved.

"Well, it doesn't look like there's anyone there now," he said. "Maybe they moved on. Let's have a look anyway. I'll sleep better."

Rick passed the binoculars back to him and stepped out from the shelter of the trees. Less than two inches of snow had fallen overnight, unusual for many southern states but not completely unheard of. It was uncharacteristically cold for a typical Georgia winter day, though, and Rick couldn't help but wonder if the environment itself had somehow been affected but the sudden changes in the world. Somehow the sight of Daryl Dixon wearing long sleeves and a winter coat just made everything seem somehow _off._

They circled the pond along the left bank, Daryl taking the lead with crossbow pointing the way up a narrow trail that appeared to be worn into the ground, Rick close behind and Glenn bringing up the rear. The terrain was far from rough, and nothing like the mountain regions they'd visited not long ago, but Rick and Glenn both felt completely clumsy with every twig or stick they snapped. Daryl never seemed to make a sound, on the other hand, and Rick made a mental note to ask him how he did that sometime.

He led them into the woods and made his way around the thickest parts with almost no effort, and soon they were standing in the middle of what had clearly been a camp site for an unknown number of people not too long ago. They stood looking around in silence, then Rick tapped Glenn on the shoulder and pointed off to the right, where a pile of firewood could be seen just beyond the circular clearing. Glenn nodded and headed that way to investigate, and Daryl was already moving to the left as Rick focused on the ground in the center of the camp.

A shallow hole had been dug in the ground to act as a fire pit, but Rick thought it was oddly deep for a simple campfire. He pushed at the snow around it, not sure what he was looking for and not finding anything out of the ordinary. He glanced up as Daryl approached him, and leaned forward to look into the fire pit. Charcoal remnants lay at the bottom, untouched by snow. Daryl pulled off one glove and knelt to touch them with his fingers, finding them to be cold.

"Found some tracks over that way," he gestured behind him. "Looks like they headed out before last night's snow. None comin' back in."

"So they're gone," Rick said, and Daryl shrugged again.

"Looks like it. Hunters, I bet. There's some broken snares and a big ol' bear trap under a tree over there."

"Guys," Glenn called. "Check this out." Daryl stood up and followed Rick over to where Glenn was standing, pointing at the ground.

"What the hell?" Rick frowned at the ground. It was stained dark red with what appeared to be dried blood. Whoever had been here had made a half-hearted attempt to toss snow over the area, but the sun peeping through the treetops had melted the thin top layer.

"Looks like someone bagged a deer," Daryl commented, and looked up at the trees closest to them.

"Look there," he pointed. Glenn and Rick both looked up to see a thin bit of rope looped up high over an extending branch. "Hunters hang their kills up high to keep predators away from 'em, but they probably butchered it here. Could be why they moved on. Walkers might be able to smell it."

"We haven't seen any walkers since we got here," Rick said.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean there aren't any," Glenn looked around nervously. Daryl studied the bloodstained ground for a few moments thoughtfully, then walked away a few steps, studying the ground as he went and bending to pick up a broken twig once. He looked at it, then flicked it away and took a few more steps, still looking down.

"Hey," Glenn called after him. "Davey Crockett. What are you looking for?" Daryl ignored him, just continued his inspection of the ground as he walked in a wide circle around the campsite.

"Whoever they were, they're gone now," Rick said. "But what I don't like is not knowing _where_ they've gone." He headed back towards the center of the camp to intercept Daryl as he circled around towards him.

"More blood over there," Daryl nodded in the direction he'd come from. "Too much for one deer. Maybe they've been hunting here for awhile, but we woulda heard shots. Unless they hunt with bows, 'course." He looked up again, as if danger might be lurking in the very treetops, then back over at the fire pit.

"Not likin' this much, Grimes," he said simply.

"Me either," Rick said. "We should get back and think about moving on - "

"Holy shit!" Glenn suddenly shouted, and they both looked in time to see him stumble backwards and trip over the pile of firewood. Rick closed the distance to him in a few quick strides. Glenn pointed wordlessly at the ground, his face an odd shade of gray, and Daryl stepped over him to look closer at what had captured Glenn's attention.

"What is it?" Rick frowned as he gave Glenn a hand up, concerned with the young man's pallor. He'd seen him look like that only once before, in Atlanta just before he... Rick hurriedly stepped back out of the way just as Glenn turned his head and violently threw up.

"Definitely not likin' this," said Daryl. Rick moved over to stand next to him, giving Glenn plenty of space, and leaned forward to look at the object Daryl was pushing at with the toe of his boot. It lay at the base of a tree, not far from the bloodied spot on the ground. At first the thing looked completely foreign and Rick had no idea what he was looking at. Then Daryl gave it a push and turned it over, and recognition dawned as he felt his own stomach twist sourly.

"That _is_ a foot, right?" Glenn said. "That's somebody's fucking _foot!"_

"Here's another one," said Daryl in a strange monotone. He pushed at a pile of dead leaves covered with a thin layer of snow to reveal another disembodied foot_, _then he suddenly stepped back in surprise when the dead leaves fell aside to reveal a dull-white human skull._  
><em>

Rick stood up quickly and backed away a step, then glanced at Daryl and found him looking up again. Hanging over their heads was another looped bit of rope, and all three of them stared up at it for a moment, their imaginations working fast.

"Back to camp," said Rick. "Right _now._"

* * *

><p>"Will someone please explain to me," Alexis said to herself. "How I got nominated to be the gut-scooper?"<p>

Daryl had returned from his hunting trip early that morning and stayed at camp long enough to hang his kill from a tree and show Carl how to skin it. Sophie had watched for exactly five minutes before running away in tears, and Lori also departed quickly with a slightly queasy look. Alexis did her best to be stoic, but when Daryl had made a cut around its neck, grabbed double handfuls of the animal's thick hide and quite literally began yanking its skin down off its body as if it was wearing some bizarre costume, she'd been forced to step away or risk throwing up in front of everyone. Carol seemed less bothered by it, and surprised everyone by helping Daryl with the butchering.

Andrea pretended not to notice the spectacle until Daryl gestured for Carol to stand back a bit while he pulled and _popped_ one of the rear legs out of joint to give them easier access to the flanks. As the dull, wet sound reached Andrea, she quickly got up from where she'd been sitting and walked away to join Dale on watch.

"That's _nasty,_" Carl said, sounding as if he thought it was anything _but_ nasty.

Daryl had quickly finished the most physically demanding part of the butchering process and left Carol with the task of slicing up the meat for cooking, curing and drying, then set a bucket underneath the hanging remains, cut into the deer's belly and gutted it quickly, dumping all the innards out into the bucket. Then he'd told everyone in the immediate area that someone needed to "pull out the rest" and bury it all somewhere away from camp so they wouldn't attract anything with the smell.

He's abruptly left with Rick and Glenn to investigate whatever he'd found during his hunt, leaving Alexis, T-Dog and Carl standing uncertainly, staring at the messy remains of the deer as it bled into the bucket.

"Don't look at me," T-Dog said as Alexis looked at him hopefully. He held up both hands and shook his head. _No way._

"I'm a vegetarian," he said.

"Since when?" Alexis demanded.

"Since right now," he laughed. "Besides, you're the one sleepin' with Mister Outdoors. _You_ do it, Mrs. Crockett."

"Great," said Alexis. "So if I was sleeping with _you_ I'd get to wuss out of the dirty work, then?" T-Dog laughed heartily, and Alexis glanced sideways at Carl.

"You didn't hear that," she said.

"Yes, I did." he retorted."And I'm _not_ scooping guts."

"I'll dig you a hole to dump them in," said T-Dog as Alexis gingerly approached the deer. "Digging's a _man's_ job anyway." He ducked as Alexis flung something wet and squishy in his general direction, and Carl hurried away just in case there was going to be a battle involving flying deer guts.

"All right,_ fine._ No guts, no glory." Alexis took a deep breath and took off the hooded sweatshirt she was wearing, pushed up her sleeves and reached inside the deer's wide-open chest cavity. Carol watched from where she sat at one of the picnic tables, cutting the meat Daryl had carved into manageable-sized portions and strips for drying. She hid her smile as Alexis gagged and pulled out innards with her face turned away. It took close to an hour, as she had to cut at some of them with the hunting knife Daryl had left stuck in the deer's corpse. When the bucket was full, she used double handfuls of snow to clean off her hands, picked up Daryl's knife and stuck it right in the top of the mess, then lifted the bucket with a look of disgust on her face.

"I miss supermarkets," she muttered as she hurried past Carol, bucket handle held in both hands.

"Dale, where did T-Dog go?" she called as she passed by the RV. Dale was standing on the roof looking through the binoculars at something beyond the camp.

"Down by the stream," he said. "Said he was going to dig you a hole. Something I should know?"

"Nope," Alexis sighed. "I'll be right back."

"I think I see Rick and the others coming back," said Dale.

"Wonderful," Alexis said, and picked her way down the narrow path towards the stream that was their only source of water. T-Dog was already on his way back up, and grinned at the sight of her lugging the steaming bucket.

"Come on, give it here," he laughed and reached for it, but she gave him a look and blew her hair out of her face with an impatient _huff._

"Don't want you to strain yourself," she shot back. "Just tell me where you dug the hole. I want to wash off anyway, for some reason I feel like I've been dipped in deer guts."

"Right over there," T-Dog pointed. "You want me to wait? I won't peek."

"I'll be fine," Alexis said, spotting the shovel against a tree a short distance away, not far from the stream. "Dale said he saw the others coming back. Tell Mister Outdoors I said payback's a bitch."

As T-Dog headed back towards the camp she set the bucket down at the edge of the hole, removed Daryl's knife and stabbed it into the ground next to her feet. She straightened up for a moment and looked down at herself, covered in dirt and deer blood. The dirt she was getting used to, the blood she could do without. But at least it was a deer and not a walker.

Less snow had accumulated under the trees, and the ground was still not quite frozen, but T-Dog's hole was not deep and she guessed he had spent a total of five minutes doing it. She supposed it didn't matter, this spot was far enough away that even if a bobcat or coyote caught a whiff and dug it up, it wasn't likely to pose a risk to the camp. Walkers had been almost non-existent since the weather got colder. Whether it was because of their moderately remote location or the cold, or both, was anyone's guess at this point. In any case, the group had enjoyed relative peace for a time, if not complete comfort.

Alexis tipped the bucket and turned her face away, holding her breath as the steaming wet intestines and other unpleasant things spilled wetly into the ground. She'd seen Daryl butchering smaller animals, squirrels or rabbits, and liked to think she wasn't squeamish, but this was... well... _bad_. She shook the bucket to make sure it was empty, then tossed it aside and quickly filled in the hole with the shovel T-Dog had left behind.

Taking Daryl's knife with her, she knelt next to the stream and rinsed her hands in the freezing cold water, scooping up a handful of sand from the bottom to scrub at the more stubborn stains on her fingertips. She washed the knife as well, then laid it down next to her left boot and scooped up a double handful of water and washed her face and neck. The water was _beyond_ freezing, and she tried not to think about things like hot showers and soap while she hurried to finish up. Suddenly she felt it - the strange, instinctive sensation of being watched that can never really be explained or fully understood. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled into goosebumps, and she stood up immediately, Daryl's knife in her left hand.

Winter brought a strange silence to the woods, driving away most of the birds and other wildlife residents. But at that moment the silence was so palpable Alexis swore she could hear a heartbeat somewhere nearby, one that didn't belong to her. She looked around sharply, her eyes falling on the shovel just across the stream and out of her reach. The gun she normally carried was back in the tent, tucked under a pillow and completely useless to her now. _Stupid. Stupid and careless. Again._

Alexis stood listening for a sound other than the running stream until her feet began to tingle from the lack of movement. But nothing moved, and no other sound reached her ears. Finally she took a step forward and crossed the stream, bending to pick up the bucket. She'd just closed her hand around the handle of the shovel when a twig snapped very loudly somewhere just beyond the spot she'd just been standing in. She spun around with the shovel held before her, and at that same moment she heard Daryl's voice calling her name just up the path.

"Here!" she shouted back as loud as she could. "I'm here!" Movement caught her eye, and she felt her heart absolutely leap almost out of her chest as a tall, man-sized figure darted out from behind a tree and disappeared into the woods. Daryl shouted again, and this time she heard T-Dog and Dale as well. She backed away a few steps then turned and ran towards them, Daryl's knife still gripped in one hand.

"Whoa, watch it!" T-Dog grabbed hold of her wrist as she nearly ran into him knife-first. Daryl was right behind him and Dale was at the top of the path, peering down at them.

"There's somebody there," Alexis said. "Somebody was watching me, down by the stream."

"Shit," said T-Dog. "A walker? Damn, and I thought we were okay here."

"Walkers don't _watch,_" said Daryl, and Alexis shook her head.

"No, and they don't run away, either. He took off when he heard you coming."

T-Dog looked confused, but Daryl's expression was hard and stormy. He walked past her a few steps to stare into the woods for a few moments, as if he could locate an invisible stalker by just listening. T-Dog started to follow him, but Daryl was already turning back towards them before he'd moved more than a few steps.

"Back up to the camp," he said. "C'mon, hurry."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?" Lori said. "I mean, it could have been an old camp that was here long before all this."<p>

Everyone was gathered in the center of the campsite, aside from Daryl who stood on the roof of the RV, watching the woods around them with a sharp, suspicious eye. During their dash back to the camp, Rick had insisted that they leave out the part about finding the body parts for now. Daryl had no idea why or what he meant by _for now_, but he had every intention of telling Lex exactly why they had to leave as soon as he got her alone. She'd gone straight to the tent when they returned to camp and snatched her gun from under her pillow, then informed Daryl that not only would she never go _anywhere_ unarmed again, but he could gut his own fucking deer from now on.

"No," Rick said in response to Lori's hopeful suggestion. "We saw fresh tracks. They've been here recently, and we don't know for how long. It was pure chance that Daryl came across their campsite last night. Maybe we're lucky that they weren't there when went back."

"Maybe they _were_ there," Daryl said from the RV's roof. Everyone looked up at him.

"What do you mean?" Dale asked. "You think they followed you here?"

"If that was one of them down by the stream, they were here before you all got back," Alexis said. "They couldn't have followed you."

"Maybe not today," he replied. "But maybe before. I'm the only one who's gone out that far and come back. Been doin' it for weeks. They could have followed me, or tracked me an' seen our fire."

"We still don't know what was down by the stream," said T-Dog. "Okay, not a walker. But maybe an animal... a bear or something."

"It wasn't a bear," Alexis said firmly. "If it was, it would have eaten me long before you two got to me." Glenn suddenly looked disturbed by her words. He folded his arms and looked up at Daryl, who shook his head at him very slightly.

"We have to leave," said Rick. "Now. If we wait until tomorrow, we risk something happening while we sleep. Okay?" He looked around at everyone for signs of agreement or disagreement, and found a mixture of both.

"Oh, man... back on the road again?" T-Dog sighed, and Carol seemed to share the sentiment, but neither of them actually seemed to want to argue.

"No, he's right," said Dale. "Remember what happened last time we camped in somebody's back yard? For all we know, these ones could be even worse."

"Or they could just be people, like us." Andrea suggested. Rick shook his head firmly.

"We can't risk that," he said. "Especially if they're stalking us in the woods every time somebody goes off alone. And there's another thing," he paused and pointed at Alexis. "No more going off alone. Anyone, for any reason."

"What if I have to pee?" said Carl.

"Pee-buddies, little man," said Daryl from the RV roof. Carl laughed, but Rick frowned at the boy seriously.

"You don't go anywhere alone, Carl. Okay? Pee-buddies, whatever you want to call it. Everybody's got someone with them at all times. Got it?"

"Hey," Daryl interrupted, and everyone turned to look up at him again. He pointed at a spot beyond them all, and everyone turned to look.

"What is it?" said Carol, and Sophie leaned back against her nervously.

"My deer's gone," Daryl said quietly, and Carol let out a very small gasp. Sure enough, the deer carcass was no longer hanging from the tree branch where Daryl had strung it up with rope. Rick hurried over for a closer look, finding the rope was still there but had been cut cleanly.

"Dale, Andrea," said Rick quietly. "You two watch, front and back. T-Dog, Glenn, Daryl, let's break these tents down _now_. Nothing fancy, just get everything in a vehicle so we can go. Anything that's not packed in one hour gets left behind." Daryl had already jumped down from the RV's roof as Dale climbed up, and everyone was moving quickly. A sort of organized chaos filled the air, but nobody spoke much and everyone seemed to know exactly what to do.

Alexis was inside the tent she shared with Daryl already, stuffing their belongings into backpacks and rolling up sleeping bags. She folded the cots and tossed them outside onto the ground. Daryl backed his truck into the center of the camp, then hurried to do the same with T-Dog's. Rick and Glenn had already stowed away the Grimes' tent as well as Carol's by the time Alexis exited her own tent with sleeping bags and backpacks loaded into her arms.

Carl and Sophie were stowed away in the RV so they would be safe without needing to be watched at all times, and Carol hurried around, picking up whatever items were around the camp and in danger of being left behind. When the one-hour mark passed, T-Dog stuffed the last sleeping bag into the back of his Explorer and slammed the rear hatch closed. It was only early afternoon, but the group would much rather have left at first light to have a full day to get somewhere before dark.

Glenn had the maps out as always, but Rick could only stare at them blankly for a moment before shaking his head and turning towards the RV.

"Let's just get moving," he said. "Head South, like we were before. Make sure nobody's following us. If anyone spots any vehicles behind us on the road, honk your horn once."

"And then what?" said Daryl. "Just honk and wave?" Rick turned back to move closer to Daryl and Glenn so he could speak quietly.

"We put as much distance between us and them as we can," he said simply.

"What if we can't?" said Glenn. "If they follow us, it's for a reason."

"What if they catch up to us?" Daryl said, a slight sneer in his tone. "You gonna arrest them, Officer Friendly?"

"No," said Rick, his voice a near-whisper. "If they follow us, if we see them again, shoot first and ask questions later. Can you do that?"

Daryl studied him for a long moment, chewing his lip thoughtfully, then he nodded.

"I can do that," he said. Glenn looked doubtful, but he nodded as well. Rick took a breath and let it out heavy.

"The others need to know what we found out there," he said. "Tell them as soon as we're on the road. I just didn't want the kids to hear..."

"Rick," Andrea called from her vantage point on top of the old restroom building. he turned and looked up at her, shading his eyes with his hand. She pointed across the campsite, in the direction of the mysterious campsite.

"I see them," she said. "Three of them. It looks like they're heading back to their camp."

"Then we leave now," said Rick. "Maybe they're more interested in eating the deer."

"For now," said Glenn.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics: <strong>Marilyn Manson, _Prelude (The Family Trip)_

_**A/N:** Yes, dears... I googled "deer gutting and butchering," and found instructional videos. They almost made me puke._


	3. Forces of Nature

**A/N:** Hi there everyone! Wow! I wasn't expecting such enthusiasm on that last one. I guess now I know how much you all like gross and creepy. I'll keep that in mind as we go forward. I was also thinking about throwing you romance hounds a bone ... no pun intended. As always, thank you for the reviews!

Good to see some familiar names: viktorskrumpet, ChildlikeEmpress, ShiveringTree, K, Lucy Freebird, pitbullsrok, AvidReaderWolf, Jac Danvers, Tenderloin Baby... and some new ones: FellowEarthGirl, TragicCure, Ashley, Sami and an ugly shade of violet.

* * *

><p><em>I just sit there, and let the thoughts flood<em>  
><em>And I remind myself it's all right, it's all good<em>  
><em>It's all love, it's not though<em>  
><em>Cuz there's a kink in the armor<em>  
><em>A pot hole I'm sinkin' in, the more I think of the drama<em>  
><em>So I stand up, I start to pace in my living room<em>  
><em>Set my eye to the highway, knowin' that I'll play chicken soon<em>  
><em>There's a vanity plate, wit my name on it<em>  
><em>There's a Davy Crockett hat with a masonic fat cat under it<em>  
><em>A musket rifle spittin' at my feet<em>

_They want me to dance in the middle of the street_  
><em>And I respect my elders, so I do as I'm told<em>  
><em>But I've offset the bell curve when I do it with so losin' control<em>  
><em>Guilty feet do have rhythm<em>  
><em>They just dance to the wrong theme music to amuse the villian<em>  
><em>Instead of killin', I spare the raccoon<em>  
><em>And start fillin' sand bags as I stare at the moon<em>  
><em>And let the thoughts flood <em>

_Blessed are those who are damned_  
><em>When the levy broke, how many choked on the steps of a slow dance<em>  
><em>A staircase to a hug with no hands<em>  
><em>Accountability hung out to dry on the line of command<em>  
><em>We let the thoughts flood, we remind ourselves it's all right, <em>  
><em>it's all good it's all love, it's not though<em>  
><em>Cuz there's a kink in the armor<em>  
><em>A pot hole I'm sinkin' in, sharing a drink with my father<em>

_It's a family affair, the vanity we share_  
><em>The water line is rising and we do is stand there<em>  
><em>The water line is rising and we do is stand there<em>  
><em>The water line is rising and we do is stand there...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Forces of Nature<strong>

Alexis sat still for a moment, watching the world go by outside the passenger side window and trying to wrap her mind around what Daryl had just told her. What he was talking about came from B-grade horror movies. Shock-value gross-out stories with no value whatsoever to those with weak stomachs.

"Cannibals," she said out loud. "You're saying you found evidence that these... people were eating other people, and might have been stalking us for _food?_"

"Evidence?" Daryl gave her an odd look. "I ain't Sherlock Holmes, baby. But no, we didn't see any heads on sticks or body parts roastin' over a fire, if that's what you mean. We only saw what I told you. I had a gut feelin' and Grimes did too."

"What did Glenn think?" Alexis asked, and Daryl glanced over and gave her an un-funny smile, then turned his attention back to the road.

"He puked. Don't think he had time for much thinkin'."

"So whoever that was in the woods, he was sizing me up for... "

"Don't," Daryl interrupted her. "Just don't. It didn't happen."

"But it _could_ have," she insisted. "And all those times you went hunting by yourself, they could have taken you at any time and we might never have known what happened. God _damn_ it, Daryl..."

"Hey," he frowned and glanced at her again as her tone took a sharp edge. "It _could_a happened, but it didn't. Jus' like Grimes said, we put as much distance between us 'n them as we can. We don't even know if they got vehicles."

"I know we're away from _them_," she said. "But if there's one group of them here, there's bound to be more somewhere else. They can't be the only ones to start thinking that way."

* * *

><p>"We don't know that," said Rick, squeezing Lori's hand as she voiced the thought they were all thinking. He was sitting on the floor of the RV, leaning back against the passenger seat, where Andrea was sitting. "We don't even know for a fact that these people <em>were<em> cannibals. But if we start assuming that they're everywhere, we're just going to make ourselves paranoid and eventually insane."

"Paranoid is just an extreme version of overcautious," said Dale, glancing back at Rick from the driver's seat. Rick and Lori had gathered just behind them so the four could discuss without alarming the children. Carol was sitting with them in the RV's single bedroom, doing her best to keep their attention focused on their schooling.

"If we assume that everyone we meet is on the level until they do something bad," Andrea added. "We're not going to last very long. Innocent until proven guilty might not be very smart anymore, Rick."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Lori said. "Just open fire on anyone who looks even remotely suspicious? Are you serious about that?"

"Listen," said Andrea. "Nobody was prepared for the dead to start walking... there's just no contingency plan for that. But what else are we supposed to do? Killing walkers is one thing... they just do what they do because there's nothing else for them to do. But living people who make the choice to kill other people for food? How else do you suggest we deal with that?"

* * *

><p>"Shoot first and ask questions later," T-Dog repeated. "For real, man? He actually <em>said<em> that?"

"Yeah," said Glenn. "And he meant it."

"Man," T-Dog sighed, and glanced in the rear view mirror for the thousandth time since they'd left the campground. "So much for _we don't kill the living_, then."

"Well up until now, we've only had to worry about the dead wanting to eat us," Glenn pointed out, shifting in his seat so he could watch out the back window. Daryl's pickup truck followed behind them, bringing up the rear of the small caravan. Glenn wondered if Daryl and Alexis were having the same conversation, although he imagined Alexis might not take it well to learn she may have been considered for their neighbors' next meal.

"And you know what bugs me the most? They took that deer right out from under our noses, in broad daylight. It was there one minute and gone the next, just like _that._" He held the walkie-talkie in his hand and watched out the back window as he spoke.

"Messed-up world," T-Dog mumbled, and leaned forward to push a CD into the stereo. "I don't wanna talk about it no more. But we've got to get somewhere and _stay_ there. The whole world can't be bat shit crazy, can it?"

* * *

><p>"There's no easy answer," Rick sat "Maybe there will never be any answers at all. But if we <em>are<em> the last sane people in the world, then we're going to be outnumbered no matter where we go and what we do." He glanced at his watch and reached for the short-wave walkie that matched the ones that the other two vehicles carried.

"Okay, guys," he said into the radio. "We've been on the road for two hours. Anyone following?" There was a moment of static-filled silence, then Alexis' voice crackled across to them.

"There's nobody behind us, Rick. If we're being followed by anyone at all, they're ninjas and we're doomed no matter what we do."

"I don't know about ninjas," Glenn's voice came next. "But I think we're clear. Can we stop and talk about where the hell we're going now?"

That was the burning question, and Rick had to admit he'd been avoiding answering it for as long as he could. He sighed and nodded to Dale, and moments later the RV pulled to a stop on the side of the road. T-Dog and Glenn were already approaching the RV when Rick stepped outside, and the others all gathered around as Alexis and Daryl joined the group last.

"All right," Rick sighed. "I don't have a plan. I have no idea where we're going, so I figured we'd head South just like before. If anyone has any suggestions at all, I'm listening."

"Wow," said T-Dog. "Defensive much? Chill out, man. If South gets us out of the snow, I'm behind it." Everyone else nodded, and Rick smiled sheepishly.

"Guess we should find a spot to stop for the night, then. At the very least we can sort out who's got what stored in their vehicles, I don't even know where my stuff went."

"We're coming up on a few residential neighborhoods," said Dale. "Last time we went though those it wasn't pretty. But maybe with the cooler weather the walkers will have moved on. Or at least slowed down."

"We need real shelter," Rick nodded. "It'll take us forever to set up a camp tonight. Let's see if we can't find something that will put a roof and four walls around us, even if it's just for one night." Glenn and Dale were standing with a map stretched out between them, and Andrea was peering over Dale's shoulder.

"This area looks too heavily populated," Dale was saying. "But there's lots of farms over this way."

"No cornfields," Glenn said. "Too many places for ninjas to hide."

Daryl leaned against T-Dog's Explorer as everyone gathered around to better hear what was being said, and glanced behind him as a rustle of bushes caught his attention. Sophie emerged with Alexis right behind her, and the girl blushed three shades of red when she caught sight of Daryl standing there. He raised an eyebrow at Alexis, and she shrugged as Sophie ran back to the RV.

"Pee buddies," she explained, and Daryl smirked.

Alexis paused at the truck to pull out her sweatshirt, and took a moment to turn the sleeves right-side-out. She was wearing army-green khakis with a small v-neck black T-shirt and combat-style boots, a result of a raid on a small Army/Navy outlet just before they'd set up at the campground. Rick had given her Shane's old police-issued sidearm and holster, and she was wearing the rig now, which made a hell of a lot more sense than storing her gun in her pillowcase. She'd been less than thrilled at the lack of wardrobe choices, but Daryl couldn't help but notice that everything fit her pretty well. Pretty _damn_ well, actually.

"What are you staring at?" she smirked back at him as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and came over to stand next to him.

"Alexis Reilly, badass with a gun," he said. "If I hadn't seen you before, I woulda never believed it was you."

"You should have seen me with my machete," she laughed, and zipped up the sweatshirt. Daryl immediately reached over and pulled the zipper back down, just enough so she wasn't completely covered with the bulky cloth, then slipped a hand around her waist. She looked up at him with mild surprise as he tugged her closer.

"I'll get you another one," he said, and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Gotta be Christmas soon."

"Fantastic," Alexis laughed softly. "Every girl wants a machete for Christmas this year." Public affection was not high on Daryl's list of things he wanted to be known for, but she was suddenly aware that it had been a couple weeks since they'd done more than pass out from exhaustion in the privacy of their own tent. She took advantage of his momentary lapse in judgement and slipped both arms around him for a quick squeeze.

"All right, get off me," he grumbled. "People are going to start thinkin' we're _together_ or somethin."

"Smartass," she said over her shoulder at him as she walked away to hear what the others were talking about. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved away, and found herself wondering if there was any chance of finding a place with doors that actually _locked_ tonight.

* * *

><p>The area was known more for commercial dairy and tobacco farms, which meant large plots of land with too many outbuildings, which promised to make the night watch too complicated. Much to Glenn's dismay, it seemed everyone in the state of Georgia with more than an acre of land had a cornfield. Even though any useful crops were long dead and dried up, the stalks remained standing, providing more than ample cover for anyone who did not wish to be seen.<p>

It began to snow again almost as soon as they were back on the road, but within an hour the snow changed to sideways-blowing sleet, and the sky grew darker and more threatening by the moment. The icy road conditions were quickly growing dangerous, and Dale pulled the RV to the side to T-Dog could lead the way with the Explorer's four-wheel-drive engaged.

By late afternoon it finally seemed that luck was on their side as T-Dog pulled onto a wide, flat dirt driveway leading to a large but simple-looking farmhouse. The house sat on a wide-open plot of partially-fenced land, very visible from the road but with the storm growing in intensity it was doubtful that anyone would be wandering about the roads. A separate garage with a caved-in roof stood apart from the house, and a barn could be seen at the back of the property. Glenn was comforted by the fact that the people who lived here were clearly not commercial corn farmers, as their cornfield consisted of six thin rows standing behind a barrier of chicken wire serving as a crude fence.

Rick climbed the steps to the front door cautiously while Daryl circled around the back on one side and T-Dog took the other. Alexis followed Rick slowly, keeping her eyes on the large open space beneath the porch for a moment before stepping up to the nearest window.

"Windows are boarded up from the inside," she said. "Can't see."

"There's nobody home," said Rick, his voice strangely quiet as he stood in front of the door.

"How do you know?" Alexis frowned, and turned to see him holding a piece of paper that appeared to be wrapped in plastic.

"They left a note on the door," he said, and handed it to her.

Andrea and Dale came up onto the porch, and Rick raised a hand to wave at Lori and Carol, who were watching from the RV. Daryl appeared and shook his head at Rick to indicate he'd found nothing.

_"Dear Travelers,"_ Alexis read aloud. "_Welcome to our home. It ain't much to look at, but we've been happy here for a long time. We're sorry we can't be here to greet you, but times being what they are we know you can understand and forgive us. We've been safe enough here, aside from only a few unwelcome visitors in the yard and such. We found that the chicken wire confuses them, and sometimes they get stuck in it for days. Not nice of us to laugh at them like that, but when you get old sometimes laughter is all you have."_

Dale chuckled out loud at that, and Andrea gave him a sideways smile. Lori and Carol joined the rest of them on the porch with Sophie and Carl.

_"Last night one of them bit my Martha. We may be old, but we're not stupid and we know what that means. We talked it over, and decided that now would be a good time to go. We're going out to the barn now. Don't come in. There's no reason anyone needs to see us like this. I'm locking the house up tight, and we boarded the windows a long time ago. The key's under the mat. It should be safe here for awhile, if you're planning to stay. May God forgive us and have mercy on us all. Sincerely, George and Martha Neely."_

Rick bent and turned over the welcome mat right in front of him and picked up the key, then stood looking at it for a moment.

_"PS,"_ Alexis continued. _"We have our own well, the water don't run anymore but the hand pump works. Martha makes the best damn peach preserves you ever tasted in your life. The cellar's full, please help yourselves to whatever you need."_

"Open the door," said Lori quietly. "It's freezing out here, and something tells me George and Martha would be very offended if we didn't accept their hospitality."

Rick nodded and put the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment, but the door opened with a good push, releasing a puff of stale air into the cold wet night.

Rick and T-Dog entered first, and Daryl pushed past Alexis to follow. The house was by all appearances empty, but none of them believed in appearances so much anymore. Lori handed Alexis a flashlight so she could pass it up to Rick, and those waiting outside on the porch stood shivering anxiously as the three men made a quick search of the ground floor. Finally Rick appeared in the door and waved everyone inside.

"Daryl and Glenn are searching upstairs, everyone in the living room for now. Come on, it's dry, if not warm."

"There's a fireplace," Alexis observed as Rick headed for the stairs to join Daryl and Glenn in the search. "Maybe it's even usable." Wood was stacked high on either side of the spacious fireplace, and closer inspection revealed a a pile of candles lying in easy reach. She groped around on the mantle and wasn't surprised to find matches, and immediately lit one. She turned around so the candlelight spread through the room, and Carol immediately went to the windows to pull the heavy drapes closed.

"Big wood stove in the kitchen," T-Dog appeared in the doorway suddenly, making them all jump. "Looks like these folks were already doing everything the old-fashioned way. I'm guessing not much changed for them aside from the power going out."

"No," Lori said. She was standing in front of a wall of hand-framed photographs. "Everything changed for them." Alexis brought her candle closer, and saw family photos that must have spanned generations. Children, more than she could count with a brief look, relatives, friends, even photos of family dogs were proudly hung in place.

"I checked out the cellar," T-Dog added. "Our friend Martha was busy, there's jars of all kinds of stuff down there. Looks like they were stocking up." Rick came down the stairs as he was speaking, Daryl and Glenn right behind him.

"All clear up there," he said. "There's six bedrooms upstairs, and everything's been locked up so tight not even dust could get in. Not much in the way of heat, but I guess we're used to that by now."

"Maybe if we get that fireplace going it will help," Dale suggested. If we keep the curtains drawn, nobody will be able to see anything from the road."

"We'll be okay for the night," Rick said. "Maybe even for a couple days."

"I'm hungry," said Carl, and Daryl was reminded of the fact that they'd had a venison feast in the making back at the camp. He glanced at Carol, but she shook her head.

"We didn't have anything to transport meat safely," she said. "It would have just spoiled, I had to leave it."

"It's okay," said Rick. "I happen to like peach preserves. Let's see what's in that cellar."

Martha's preserving skills proved to be exceptional as promised, and a reasonably filling meal of peach preserves, slightly stale bread and hot tea served to satisfy everyone's hunger. All but two of the six bedrooms were large and spacious, the last two furnished with narrow single beds only and seemingly meant for visitors and guests only. T-Dog and Glenn claimed them, and Alexis wondered if they were tired of each others' company since they always seemed to get stuck bunking together.

The house was old and creaky, the rising wind and rain outside not doing much to help the spooky factor. Carol accompanied Sophie at bedtime to ease the girl's nighttime fear, and Carl was placed in the largest of the bedrooms to share with his parents. Daryl and Dale made a run to the vehicles to grab sleeping bags and other personal possessions, but the abrupt departure from the camp had been chaotic enough that they were both soaked and frozen to the bone before they could locate everything they wanted.

"Forget it," Daryl growled at last. "We can do this in the morning. I'm done." He didn't wait for Dale's argument, although none came as they hurried back to the house with the wind howling at their backs. A fire was burning in the living room when they entered, dripping on the entryway carpet. Andrea knelt in front of the fireplace, adding more wood as the flames took hold. She turned to look at them both and smiled as Dale took off his hat and wrung it out.

"Everyone else is upstairs," she said, and stood up to hand Dale a blanket as he came closer to the fire. "T-Dog and Glenn filled the bathtub with water from the well. But it's not hot, so the last thing you'll want to do is get in. There's lots of towels and blankets, though."

Daryl headed upstairs with his and Lex's backpacks over one shoulder and paused to drop a third pack outside Carol's door. It had somehow ended up in his truck, but given the chaotic nature of the day it wasn't very surprising. He paused in the main hallway for a moment, looking at the maze of closed doors and realizing he wasn't sure which room Lex had grabbed as theirs. At the end of the hall, one stood open a crack, so he approached quietly and gave it a push to peek inside.

She stood at one of the windows, holding the curtain aside and peeking out through a gap in the boards across the glass. She turned to look at him as he came in and set their wet packs on the floor, then smiled and shook her head at his bedraggled appearance and turned back to the window. A single candle burned on a very old-looking dresser, casting a dim, flickering light across the room. The bedroom's single window looked down over the back yard, which she could not really see in the darkness. The rain had turned to snow again, and large, heavy flakes could be seen drifting past the window.

"What're you lookin' at?" Daryl came up behind her to look over her shoulder, and she leaned backwards as he slipped both arms around her. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt and smelled like soap, and her skin felt warm despite the cold chill in the room.

"Nothing, really. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"George and Martha. The old couple who lived here," she let the curtain drop and closed her eyes as Daryl's lips touched the side of her neck and his hands settled on her hips.

"What about 'em?" He spoke quietly in her ear, and she shivered as his teeth caught her earlobe and pulled, then his lips continued to work a path down her neck. She reached her right arm up and ran her fingers up the back of his neck, turning her head so her lips met his. The kiss was slow and soft at first, but she felt his hands pressing harder and suddenly they were pulling at her T-shirt and sliding up underneath.

"Nevermind," she mumbled against his lips, and he pulled her away from the window, arms still wrapped around her from behind.

"You're soaked," she laughed as he turned her around and pushed her backwards until she felt the bed just behind her. She helped him pull off his shirt and heard herself gasp out loud when his hand suddenly slid down between her legs.

"So are you," he said and pushed her back onto the bed.

She lost all sense of time or reality as the remaining layers of clothing were dropped on the floor and focused on the only thing that mattered at that moment; warm flesh pressing and moving against her own, the rising sensations that made her skin tingle as if it were electrified. Alexis felt like she couldn't pull him close enough when his tongue traced circles over the most sensitive points of her body until she thought she might explode. She opened her eyes when he raised himself to look at her face, his expression dark and almost predatory. A shiver ran down her spine and the heat in her belly intensified when he pushed inside her with one hard, sudden thrust that was almost painful. He gripped a handful of her hair tightly and whispered her name hoarsely against her neck as the natural rhythm took over, and soon they were both lost in wave after wave of intense pleasure.

Afterwards, they lay in a comfortable tangle of limbs and blankets. Daryl rested his head against her chest sleepily, using her soft flesh as a pillow as she let lazy fingers run through the hair on the back of his head. The rain had turned to hail at some point, and both listened as the winter storm pounded relentlessly over their heads.

She whispered something into the semi-darkness of the room just as Daryl was starting to drift off to sleep. He lifted his head to look at her, not sure if he'd heard her words correctly over the sound of the storm outside. Her eyes were closed and her breathing rhythmic, and he decided she hadn't said anything at all, it was just the storm.

* * *

><p>Outside the storm raged on, making everything difficult for everything that struggled to pass through. The occasional weary traveler sought shelter wherever they could, the dead struggled to walk against the buffeting wind and stinging rain, and animals scampered for cover as they always had, with no regard for the trials and tribulations that plagued the human race. A walker tried to pass through the front yard of the house, but the wind worked against it and it became hopelessly entangled in a length of chicken wire. After struggling slowly and fruitlessly for almost an hour, the walker seemed to just give up completely and lay quietly as if waiting patiently for the storm to end so it could get up again.<p>

Under the cover of night, hail and wind, a single pair of eyes watched the newly-occupied farmhouse from a distant vantage point. The three of them had followed the caravan at a distance. Two slept in the shelter of their vehicle now, while the third watched the farmhouse closely. Soon it became clear that the travelers were going nowhere until morning, and the last man awake finally closed his own eyes for a few hours of blessed sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Sage Francis, _Waterline_


	4. Disturbing Thoughts

All that is, was and will be  
>Universe much too big to see<br>Time and space never ending  
>Disturbing thoughts, questions pending<br>Limitations of human understanding  
>Too quick to criticize, obligation to survive<br>We hunger to be alive

All that is, ever was  
>Will be ever twisting, turning<br>Through the never

In the dark, see past our eyes  
>Pursuit of truth no matter where it lies<br>Gazing up to the breeze of the heavens  
>On a quest, meaning, reason<br>Came to be, how it begun  
>All alone in the family of the sun<br>Curiosity teasing everyone  
>On our home, third stone from the sun...<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Disturbing Thoughts<strong>_**  
><strong>_

_**"**Joseph Warren Dixon has been found guilty on two counts of second-degree murder as a hate crime in the deaths of two African-American men during a bar brawl last year._

_A Superior Court jury returned the verdict after only 4 hours of deliberations. The jury had the option of choosing involuntary manslaughter, but did not. Second-degree murder carries a penalty of 15 years to life, but because Dixon has multiple prior convictions of first-degree battery, hate crimes, assault on a police officer and various drug-related charges he was automatically sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole._

_Witnesses in the bar that night testified that Dixon singled them out because they were both black and provoked them into fighting using racial slurs and harassing the female companion of one of the men. A past associate of Dixon's who asked not to be identified during this interview said that he often "went looking" for fights with local black residents, sometimes bar-hopping three or four times a night if he was 'in the mood.'_

_The hate crime element of the conviction added an additional sentence to the 15 years' minimum penalty**..."**_

_"Hate crime," Merle scoffed, peering over his brother's shoulder to squint at the tiny, static-filled screen of the black and white TV perched on the shelf in the corner of the garage. "What t'hell does that mean, anyway? I'd say they should give 'im a medal if he wasn't such a prick. Two less niggers in the world. I ain't gonna lose no sleep over it." Daryl snorted and snapped the TV off._

_"It don't change a thing," he said and turned his attention back to the old blue and white pickup truck, which was currently sitting on the lift and leaking oil into a bucket on the floor of the garage. "He's still a mean ol' bastard, jus' a mean ol' bastard in prison now."_

_"I guess," Merle leaned back against the tool bench as Daryl crouched down and tipped the bucket to get a look at the oil inside._

_"What do ya say we go out and raise a couple tonight for the old man?" Merle said._

_"The fuck I want to do that for?" Daryl frowned, wondering how many years it had been since somebody changed the oil on this shitbox. "He ain't never raised nothing for us, 'cept maybe his fists."_

_"Come on," Merle put on his whining voice. "We can hit Harley's tonight, there's always some gals willin' to show ya their titties."_

_"Yeah," Daryl snorted, then pointed up at the wrench sitting on the bench next to Merle. "As long as you ain't picky 'bout them havin' all their teeth."_

_"So we go somewhere else," Merle handed him the wrench and Daryl shook his head._

_"I gotta finish this thing," he said. "I got plans already anyway." He didn't, actually. He was just not in the mood to deal with drunk Merle tonight._

_"Yeah, I bet," Merle smirked. "I s'pose Rosie's got all her teeth, don't she?"_

_"Yep," Daryl said, and wished Merle would go away without starting in on Rosie again._

_He'd been working on the truck for the better part of the day. The old blue and white Dodge was barely worth the work he'd been putting into it, but he was sick of riding around in Merle's rat-trap Camino with the Dixie flag on the hood. It practically screamed "here come the Dixon brothers" everywhere they went, and Daryl was secretly tired of the looks and head-shaking that always followed it. Now that Joe Dixon was the most infamous murderer in Bristol County, that butt-ugly car was even more famous than ever. It didn't matter that Joe had never driven it, everyone knew his sons did. Merle had already dealt with slashed tires, a smashed windshield and various other acts of vandalism since Joe's arrest, and Daryl simply wanted nothing more to do with it._

_"By the way," Daryl spoke up from underneath the truck. "We got another brick through a window last night. Somebody spray-painted some shit on the garage doors, too."_

_"Motherfucker," Merle commented mildly. "I didn't even see that." He walked out of the garage and stood on the sidewalk, shielding his eyes against the late-afternoon sun as he examined the evidence. Daryl gritted his teeth as Merle laughed out loud._

_"Godamn," he chortled. "That's the worst swastika I ever seen. I think it's upside down. Well, maybe not. Who do ya think did that?"_

_Daryl shrugged. Whoever the vandal was, they'd also painted the words "white trash," and "Dixon scum." Not very creative, he supposed. But maybe not far from the truth, either._

_"Well, whoever it is, they can kiss my lily-white ass," Merle said as he came back inside. "Bunch'a niggers, no doubt. Ain't good enough fer them that ol' Joe's gonna rot in jail now. Maybe I'll just hang around here tonight an' wait fer them to come back. You takin' Rosie out in that heap? Bet she'll be impressed."_

_Daryl gritted his teeth again and gave the wrench a hard, angry twist. Just about every bolt on the truck was all but rusted solid, and he knew he was going to be in here all night. But that was just fine, he didn't have anywhere to be anyway._

_"Ain't seein' her no more," he finally grunted. "Her daddy don't want her spendin' time with a Dixon."_

_"Well, fuck me sideways," Merle exclaimed. "You got the best excuse of all to git out and tie one on. Come on, runt. I ain't taking no fer an answer. Let's go."_

_There was really no way out of it. Once Merle reached the point of not taking no for an answer, that was the end of it. He would physically drag his younger brother out if he chose not to walk on his own, and Daryl at the age of nineteen still suffered from teenage skinny-boy syndrome and would be helpless to stop him. Merle allowed him exactly half an hour to wash grease and general garage dirt off himself and change his oil-spattered clothes, then the two were off to find whatever adventure they could find in town._

_Hours later, face-down on the ground and getting the shit kicked out of him by five angry relatives of the two men his father had killed, Daryl found himself wishing he'd tried harder to say no. He'd left the bar moderately early, not in the mood for Merle's drunken loudness, and walked right into the ambush. He hadn't had time to consider how long they'd been waiting for him to leave, but considering there were five of them, he figured they'd been planning on jumping Merle as well. _

_He thought he'd done pretty well at first, and held his own long enough to have made Merle proud. But these guyys were not looking for a fair fight, they were looking for payback, and the smaller Dixon brother suited them just fine. He felt his breath whoosh out of him as one of them kicked him in the stomach, and another put a foot in his lower back and shoved him forward so his face dragged along in the dirt a bit. The next kick was aimed at his face, but Daryl grabbed hold of the foot and twisted it hard until its owner lost balance and landed hard next to him. Daryl slammed his elbow into his face and attempted to roll free, but another foot cracked his head and lights flashed behind his eyes. _

_"Yer dead, Dixon," said the one whose nose Daryl had just broken. He grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his head up so he could see how many of them there were, all waiting to take a turn pounding him. "Just' like yer ol' man is dead. The brothers are gonna fuck 'im up soon as he gits to the state pen." The hand abruptly released his head, and Daryl was allowed a moment to cough up blood and spit at their shoes. They backed off a little for a moment, and Daryl took advantage of the opportunity to curse them all out as loudly as he could. Then the tip of a baseball bat dragged in the dirt in front of his face, and he knew things were about to get really bad. _

_Two hours later, Merle stumbled out the back door of Harley's Roadside Bar with every intention of driving home shit-faced drunk. As he shuffled around the corner of the building, fumbling with his keys and singing off-tune, he tripped over a heap of something lying in the dark in front of him and landed hard on his bad right knee._

_"Goddammotherfuckinsumbitch!" He slurred, and focused his eyes on the thing that had tripped him. It took him several moments to recognize the beaten-bloody face of his brother, and several more to stop shouting the most vile, vicious curses he could muster long enough to go back inside and get someone to call an ambulance._

_Daryl was hospitalized for two months. A fractured skull, broken collarbone, six broken ribs, collapsed lung, ruptured spleen, bruised kidneys, broken arm, splintered kneecap, broken jaw, shattered cheekbone, knife wounds... the list of injuries was frightening. Merle sold the house they'd lived in as kids to pay Daryl's hospital bills. As soon as Daryl was able to walk and didn't have to eat meals through a straw anymore, he checked himself out and he and Merle went about the business of tracking down and severely punishing all five of the men who'd beat him to a pulp..._

They were on their fifth day at the old farmhouse, and after two straight nights of messy wet winter weather the storm had finally passed. In its wake, the temperature dropped dramatically and everything froze solid. They'd ventured outside on the third day, on Rick's insistence that they scout the immediate area and make sure they were alone. By all appearances, they were. The backyard of the house was surrounded by a low, white-picket fence which had been reinforced with chicken wire, and a single, large peach tree dominated one corner. An apple orchard lay beyond the farmhouse, stretching for at least half a mile, and beyond that were thick woods that they hadn't explored yet. The barn lay beyond the orchard, but aside from checking around it carefully, nobody ventured inside right away.

George and Martha had once kept chickens and perhaps a cow, but nothing remained now aside from the fruit trees, and the ice storm had been rough on them as well. Everything was covered with a layer of snow encased in ice, guaranteeing that nothing would be able to move quietly. Even so, they set up watch detail, one set of eyes in front and another in back at all times. Rick started teaching Andrea how to handle her gun more effectively, and Lex joined in as well. They were hesitant to risk firing live ammunition, but nothing happened the first time they risked the loud noise, perhaps because the cold seemed to have a very negative impact on walkers.

Daryl was sitting on a boulder at the edge of the orchard that allowed him to watch the back of the house and the barn for his watch shift. His crossbow lay across his lap, and his thoughts drifted in and out of the past as he kept his eyes moving across the expanse of the orchard. He glanced back over at Alexis, who'd been sitting next to him in silence as he told her the story of the worst thing that had ever happened to him. It was a game of sorts, one they'd started while everyone was stuck inside during the storm. One question each per day. No more, no less.

"What happened to them?" she asked him quietly as he finished. She'd been watching his face closely as he related the story, her expression one of sympathy and confusion all at the same time.

"That's two questions," he said. "You only get one."

"Yeah, all right." She said, but he knew by her frown that the subject wasn't going to be dropped easily. "Go ahead. Your turn."

Daryl paused and squinted in the direction of the barn, thinking he'd seen movement out of the corner of his eye. He set the cup down and raised the binoculars, watching for a few long moments until he was satisfied that nothing was there.

"How come you and your brother got different last names?" He asked, still peering through the binoculars. The sunlight was casting an odd shadow on the side of the barn from a nearby tree, and he thought maybe that was what he'd seen moving.

"We weren't actually blood-related," she said, and Daryl lowered the binoculars to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Yes," she laughed. "Now you get to see my dirty laundry."

"Seen it," he snorted. "Everything we own is dirty. Stepbrother?"

"Foster brother," she said. "I got sent to Massachusetts to live with my grandmother when I was six. She died when I was eight, and I went into foster homes. I got moved around a few times, but when I was ten I landed in a Boston home with Peter and two other older boys. I was the only girl..." she paused for a moment and looked out over the orchard as her thoughts wandered into the past again, then shook her head as if to clear something away.

"He looked after me," she finished. "He was the only real family I ever had. But I guess I don't have to tell _you_ what that's like, do I?" She turned to meet Daryl's gaze as he studied her with a faint frown, then one corner of his mouth pushed upwards in a very slight smile, and he shook his head.

"Weird fuckin' world," he mumbled and looked back in the direction of the barn. "Wait... where'd you live before that if you're not from Boston... what happened to your parents?"

"That's three questions," she smiled. "You only get one."

"Oh, come on," Daryl growled. "You don't get to drop the quick and dirty version and just quit."

"Ask tomorrow," Alexis shrugged, then glanced to the side as Rick appeared at the edge of the yard, shielding his eyes and looking for them. She raised her arm to wave at him, and he crossed the yard to the boulder they were sitting on.

"Anything?" he asked Daryl, who was already shaking his head.

"Nope. If there's anything out here 'side from rabbits and birds, it ain't interested in us."

"Yeah, T-Dog said the same thing," Rick looked out across the orchard towards the woods. Alexis followed his gaze, but didn't feel comforted by his words.

"Just because we don't see it doesn't mean it isn't there," she said. Rick nodded.

"I know that. Which is why I think Daryl's right, we should check out the woods. Maybe do some hunting at the same time." Alexis blinked and looked at Daryl.

"Figured I'd head out tomorrow mornin' and see what I can bring back for cookin'," Daryl said to her. "We're gonna empty that cellar in a couple days."

"Lori's still sick from the apples," said Rick. "Guess we should have been a little more careful."

"I told y'all not to eat those apples," Daryl said.

"Yeah, yeah," Rick waved dismissively, then looked back at the house as Andrea came out the back door. "Anyway, Andrea wants a shooting lesson. Join us if you want to, Lex." She nodded at him as he turned and waved at Andrea, and they both headed in the direction of the distant barn.

When Alexis didn't answer right away, he glanced over and found her frowning into the black three-ring journal Dr. Jenner had given her at the CDC. He knew immediately that she wasn't reading. She'd spent hours poring over that thing during the storm and he knew her reading face pretty well by now. This wasn't reading, this was simple female displeasure. She didn't want him to go hunting, just as he figured she wouldn't.

"Take Rick with you tomorrow," she said, but Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, he makes just as much noise in the woods as you do. And don't even say Glenn... he's quiet as a mouse, sure. But last thing I need is for him to puke right after I shoot somethin."

"I don't want you to go alone," she said quietly, and he looked at her again. He'd gone out on solo overnight trips countless times already, and she'd never thought twice about it. Or if she had, she'd kept it to herself.

"I hunt better alone," he said. "Nothin's gonna happen. I'll come back before dark."

"You better," she said, and the seriousness in her voice made him blink. "You're all I've got now."

* * *

><p>It started raining again in the afternoon, and by nightfall the rain had turned to wet snow. The bad weather was depressing for some, but for Daryl it was good news. Fresh snow meant animals would be moving around, and easier to track. Alexis caught him looking out the window several times after the group had gathered in the farmhouse living room to share a meager meal and stay warm by the fire. Even though he'd not said a word of complaint, she saw how much he wanted to be back outside. <em>Maybe if we head south after the weather clears up, we can get out of snow altogether and find a place where outside is a year-round event,<em> she thought to herself.

The well-worn but comfortable furniture in the room had been moved into a semi-circle so everyone could have a little of the fire's warmth, and Dale was telling a story about a fishing trip with his father when he was a boy. Alexis had at first endured his long-winded talking with as much patience as she could, but as she spent more time with the group she'd found herself looking forward to his stories. Even Daryl had eventually stopped rolling his eyes and leaving when Dale got started. If nothing else, they helped cure the kids of their boredom, and reminded everyone of simpler times that were little more than a distant memory already.

Alexis soon tuned Dale out, though. Dr. Jenner's notes continued to plague her, even nag her in her dreams. She'd read them so many times she had parts of them memorized even though she didn't quite understand most of the terminology. The medical books she'd grabbed from the nursing home helped a little, but she still felt as if she was missing something crucial. She sat at the small corner table of the living room now, the binder and both books open in front of her, a pen held between her teeth.

"She looks like a damned librarian," she heard T-Dog say. She responded by casually rubbing her nose with her middle finger and T-Dog chuckled.

"How many times you gonna read that thing?" Glenn approached her and sat down in the chair across from her, turning the corner of the journal so he could see the page.

"Until it makes sense," she sighed, and sat back to stretch her back. "Or until I get sick of it and we need the pages for kindling."

"Subject reanimated within 5 hours, 27 minutes and 37 seconds," Glenn read aloud. "What did he do, sit there and _time_ how long it took each one to... wake up?"

"Yep," Alexis sighed. "One of them took eight hours, another took three... one only took ten minutes."

"How were so many of them infected?" Glenn frowned. "The place seemed pretty secure. Was he grabbing them from outside or something?"

"I guess he could have," Alexis shrugged, and Glenn pushed the journal back to her. "Maybe some of them got bitten and came inside for help." She rested her chin in her hand and glanced down at the page, rereading the single entry Glenn had just read aloud.

_Subject reanimated within 5 hours, 27 minutes and 37 seconds._

_Conclusion:_  
><em>Subject was already infected.<em>

"I guess," Glenn turned his attention to the others for a moment, who were laughing at Dale's impression of his father with a fishing hook stuck in his finger. "From the way he talked it sounded like everyone committed suicide. Maybe those happened later." He turned back to Alexis and found her frowning hard at the page, her hand now covering her mouth.

"What?" Glenn asked, slightly alarmed as he expression changed right before his eyes. "What is it? Lex, what..."

"Oh my god," she said out loud, and stood up abruptly with the journal in both hands. Her chair slid back to bump the wall, and Dale paused in his storytelling. She stood there, reading the full entry again as everyone turned to look at her.

_CASE: TS 18_

_AGE: 43 YEARS HEIGHT: 69 INCHES_  
><em>RACE: WHITE WEIGHT: 170 LBS<em>  
><em>SEX: MALE<em>  
><em>MANNER OF DEATH: SUICIDE<em>  
><em>CAUSE OF DEATH: ASPHYXIATION FROM HANGING<em>

_LABORATORY RESULTS:_

_1. Blood:_  
><em>a. Ethanol: 0.16 gm%.<em>  
><em>b. Drugs: Codeine present at 0.2 ugml; quantity not sufficient for further examination._  
><em>2. Ocular fluid: Ethanol, 0.16 gm%.<em>

_Cerebrospinal fluid bacterial antigens:_  
><em>Hemophilus influenza B: Negative<em>  
><em>Streptococcus pneumoniae: Negative<em>  
><em>N. Meningitidis: Negative<em>  
><em>Neiserria meningitidis BE. Coli K1: Negative_

_Notes: phenylalanine and tyrosine levels elevated, indicating an unusual rise in Epinephrine. Glucose count very high, although subject has no history of diabetes. White blood cell count decreased, protein levels almost nonexistent.__ No evidence that Test Subject 18 was bitten, scratched or otherwise exposed to any infected person or materials. Cause of death is clearly suicide._

_Subject reanimated within 5 hours, 27 minutes and 37 seconds._

_Conclusion:_  
><em>Subject was already infected.<em>

"Test Subject 18 committed suicide," she said out loud, staring at the page for a moment. She became aware of the complete silence in the room a moment later, and looked up to see them all looking at her blankly. She glanced around and saw fear on Sophie's face, then abruptly closed the journal and left the room, heading for the kitchen.

She set the binder on the counter and lit a candle, then flipped to the end of it where several sheets of loose paper had been folded and pushed into a pocket in the back. A shadow fell across the pages and she glanced up to see Rick standing there, and Daryl hovering in the doorway. Carol was quickly ushering the children out of the living room and up the stairs.

"He wasn't bitten," Alexis whispered loudly.

"What are you talking about? Who wasn't bitten?" Rick frowned and watched as Alexis unfolded the loose pages from the back of the binder and started shuffling through them with shaking hands.

"Test Subject 18," she said. "Jenner didn't put any names on the others, just his wife's. TS-18 _killed himself_. He committed suicide by hanging himself with his own belt. _He wasn't bitten,_ Rick."

"Jenner said a bunch of 'em committed suicide," said Daryl, and looked at Rick in confusion. "So what?"

Alexis didn't answer, just scanned through the papers she was holding as Rick picked up the journal and flipped the pages to the entry for TS18. Daryl stood there feeling completely stupid and confused while they both read.

"Subject reanimated within 5 hours, 27 minutes and 37 seconds," Rick read aloud. "Conclusion: Subject was already infected."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Daryl practically shouted.

"It means he wasn't bitten, but he became a walker anyway," Rick said flatly. Glenn came into the room just as he spoke, and stopped short, looking at all of them one at a time.

"So what?" Daryl said again, and looked at Alexis. "Shit - grab her," he started forward but Rick beat him to it, catching Alexis' arm as she swayed dizzily and let the papers in her hands drop.

"No," she said, her voice little more than a moan. "No... this can't be right." She slid down against the cabinets and Rick reached for the papers she'd dropped as Daryl took her other arm and held her up.

"What is this?" Rick flipped the page over, and realized he was looking at a lab report of some kind.

"Our blood test results," said Alexis faintly. "Jenner tested us all when we first arrived... but he never told us..."

"Told us _what?_" Glenn looked at her fearfully. She'd turned almost white, and when Daryl put an arm around her waist she grabbed at him like she was afraid of falling. Dale came into the kitchen and looked around in confusion. Alexis was practically hyperventilating, and Daryl pulled over a chair and made her sit with her head down.

"We're already infected," said Rick quietly. "Every one of us."

* * *

><p>"How is this possible?" Andrea demanded. "How could we be infected and not know it? Wouldn't we be sick, feverish... something?"<p>

"Everyone who gets bitten dies," said Rick. "That much is obvious. But that doesn't explain why Jenner's suicide victims came back. There were a bunch of them... I guess one of them must have bitten his wife."

They'd gathered in the living room after Alexis' mild anxiety attack in the kitchen had passed. She was sitting on the floor now, holding a cup of tea and staring blankly into the fire. Daryl had positioned himself behind her so she could lean back against him. She'd physically pulled his arms around her like a safety belt, and he rested his chin on her head, frowning as the others talked.

"Maybe they were infected some other way," Carol suggested. "Maybe they came in contact with infected blood."

Everyone looked at Andrea, remembering that when her sister Amy died, she'd been all but covered in her blood. Andrea paled slightly and sat down on the edge of the couch. Dale sat on the arm of the couch and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's possible, I guess," said Rick. "But that doesn't explain why nobody's sick _unless_ they get bitten."

"It doesn't make any sense," said Lori, who had emerged from the bedroom upstairs to join them. She had been ill for two days after eating spoiled apples, and her sickly appearance was alarming considering the conversation.

"How can we even be sure Jenner was right?" T-Dog added. "Does anyone even understand what all this means?" He was holding the page with the lab results. Jenner had listed all of their names with a detailed breakdown of their blood results, but simply summed the report up by scribbling _we are all infected_ at the bottom and underlining it twice.

"We can't be sure," said Rick. "Not here anyway."

"What do you mean?" Lori asked him. Rick said nothing, just turned away from her to stare at the fire for a moment. Daryl watched him carefully, and Alexis shifted in his arms so she could set her cup down on the floor.

"He means Shane," Alexis said quietly. Rick nodded and turned around, looking at the floor. Lori stared at him, realization spreading across her thin features.

"I have to go back," he said simply. "I have to know. If Jenner was right... I have to go back. I can't leave Shane like that."

Lori stared at him as if he had just announced that he was from another planet, then slowly stood up and faced him. Neither of them spoke, and after a moment everyone else in the room looked at the floor, each other, or the fire. Lori nodded wordlessly as he matched her stare, then turned and quietly headed for the stairs.

"I'll go first thing tomorrow," said Rick to nobody in particular.

Alexis watched Lori leave, then closed her eyes and tried to push the image of Peter dying in a pool of his own blood out of her head. Daryl had not said a word to her since Rick had said the word _infected_ in the kitchen, but she'd seen it on his face when he looked at her. He knew what images were racing through her head right now, but he said nothing. She could feel his hand on her back, up high between her shoulders and squeezing the nape of her neck slightly as if to stop her from getting up and running out the front door.

And for a moment, that's exactly what she'd wanted to do.

_I can't leave him like that._

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics: <strong>Metallica_, Through the Never  
><em>


	5. Breadcrumbs

_People are strange when you're a stranger _  
><em> Faces look ugly when you're alone <em>  
><em> Women seem wicked when you're unwanted <em>  
><em> Streets are uneven when you're down <em>

_ When you're strange _  
><em> Faces come out of the rain <em>  
><em> When you're strange <em>  
><em> No one remembers your name <em>  
><em> When you're strange <em>

_ People are strange when you're a stranger _  
><em> Faces look ugly when you're alone <em>  
><em> Women seem wicked when you're unwanted <em>  
><em> Streets are uneven when you're down <em>

_ When you're strange _  
><em> Faces come out of the rain <em>  
><em> When you're strange <em>  
><em> No one remembers your name <em>  
><em> When you're strange...<em>

* * *

><p>"Nobody goes anywhere alone," said Dale. "Your words, Rick, and you were right."<p>

"I know what I said," Rick replied and zipped up the backpack with a decisive jerk. "I don't suppose it matters that I was referring to women wandering in the woods by themselves at the time?"

"Not to me it doesn't," Dale sighed. "Just don't let Andrea or Lex hear you say that."

Almost everyone had taken a turn at trying to talk Rick out of going back to the motel. Everyone except Lori, Daryl and Lex. None of the three seemed to question his reasons for wanting to go back, although Lori refused to see why he had to do it alone. Dale was the last, and he followed Rick outside to where T-Dog's Explorer was parked. T-Dog and Daryl had both offered him the use of their trucks, but he'd elected T-Dog's, since it was newer than Daryl's and at the very least less likely to break down.

"You can call it purely selfish reasoning if you like," said Rick as he opened the driver's side door and tossed the pack inside. "I want as many people around my family as possible while I'm gone. Two days, Dale. I'll be back in two days. I trust everybody here and I know they'll be safe."

"Of course they'll be safe," said Dale, a touch of impatience in his voice. "None of us would let anything happen to them, you know that. But you won't be. Not out there on your own."

"Make sure everyone stays sharp," Rick ignored Dale's last statement. "Keep the kids inside as much as possible. And if Daryl starts getting one of his wily redneck suspicions, pay attention to it. He's been right more times than most of us like to admit."

"Two days," said Dale. "You've got two days, and then Lori will make us come after you."

"Well, if I'm not back in two days, maybe I'll need a ride."

* * *

><p>Andrea sat on the roof of the porch for her watch shift, but all she was really watching at this moment was Rick shaking hands with Dale and then driving away. Everyone had heard the argument between Rick and Lori the night before, but nobody could honestly fault Rick for his decision. It was strangely fortunate that the snow had prevented them from traveling too far from the motel, and Glenn's routine of circling and marking the locations of their stops on the map had proven to be helpful at last.<p>

She watched as Rick turned the Explorer around in the yard, then headed down the long driveway and paused at the end there for a moment before turning left. Just as the vehicle disappeared from view, she caught the tiniest flash of light in the corner of her right eye and immediately stood up, then raised the binoculars to look in that direction. From her vantage point above the front yard, she could see across the road and the neighboring farm's wide-open field, which was bordered by a rock wall and beyond that, trees as far as the eye could see. The sun was behind her, and she had the distinct impression that what she'd seen was a quick flash of the sun off a reflective surface.

"Everything okay up there?" Dale called from down below. Andrea zoomed in on what appeared to be a piece of farm equipment in the field across the way and looked at it as closely as she could for a moment.

"I guess so," she finally answered, and lowered the binoculars to glance down at Dale, shading his eyes from the sun as he looked up at her. "Thought I saw a reflection over across that field. Looks like a tractor or something."

"Should we send Daryl to check it out?" Andrea looked through the binoculars again for a few long moments, but then shook her head.

"There's nothing moving, it was probably just a reflection."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, Daryl and Alexis crossed the road to the neighboring property together, to check out the reflection sighting. The field was wide open and barren from the strain of winter, making it easier for them both to keep an eye on their surroundings. Andrea had been correct about the tractor, it stood on the edge of the field rusting peacefully with no sign of obvious threat or danger. Daryl poked under the seat of the crossbow and disturbed a large crow that startled them both as it protested noisily and took flight.<p>

"Maybe that's what she saw," Alexis said. "There's nothing else moving out here." She stood with her back towards him as he circled around the tractor and eyed the woods beyond suspiciously. She'd slung the rifle Dale gave her onto her shoulder, and Daryl decided he didn't like her relaxed stance. She was too distracted.

"Maybe," he said. "But I ain't never seen a crow reflecting in the sun. Have you?"

"Think I saw a movie about evil crows once," she said. "Maybe they're stalking us."

"Crows I can handle," Daryl mumbled. "They suck at hiding."

"What's that over there?" He glanced back at her then followed her pointing finger to a small shed on the far side of the field.

"Wood shed or somethin like it," he answered, but she was already heading towards it. He frowned and stepped quickly to catch up with her. She was looking at the ground as she walked, and he felt his patience start to waver.

"Hey," he took hold of her arm as they drew closer to the shed and she stopped walking, turning to meet his gaze steadily. "I know what yer thinkin' and it _ain't_ gonna happen."

"If you really knew what I was thinking, you wouldn't be saying that to me," she answered immediately.

"Yeah? Well, think about this. Shane's buried half a day's drive away from here and it's only been a month since Carl shot him. We left Harmony almost six months ago. _Six months,_ Lex. Do ya really think your brother's gonna still be there, just sittin' in the same place we left 'im?"

"I have no idea," she said quietly. "But if it was Merle and not Peter, we wouldn't even be having this discussion. Would we?"

"Don't gimme that shit," he bit back on the harshness just a bit, but he couldn't keep the impatience out of his voice. She was quite possibly the most stubborn person he'd even known in his life, aside from himself. "It ain't Merle we're talkin' about, or me. It's _you_. I know what you wanna do an' if it make even a lick of sense I'd drive you there myself right now. But it don't make any sense, and you know it."

"I know it doesn't," she said flatly, and he was struck by the coldness of her tone. "But I don't need you to tell me what to do or not to do. I'm not your goddamned _wife_, Dixon."

"What the fuck is _that_ s'posed to - " a loud _snap_ from behind the shed seized their attention, and Alexis unslung the rifle from her shoulder as Daryl quickly stepped past her, crossbow pointed in the direction of the shed. He glanced at her and gestured with his head, and she nodded, moving around the left side of shed as he moved to the right. When they were both standing behind the shed, looking at the spot where nothing was standing there waiting for them, Daryl turned his attention to the woods while Alexis stood quietly, listening to the wind blowing through the treetops.

"Evil crows," she finally said quietly. Daryl didn't reply, but nodded his head slowly as he watched the trees.

"I know that you ain't my goddamned wife," he said quietly after a few moments. "But that don't mean I'm jus' gonna stand back an' let you run off chasin' after bad dreams. Go ahead an' be mad at me if you want. Let's go. We're out in the open here."

She followed him without a word, and they walked in silence back to the farmhouse. Daryl quickened his pace and moved away from her when they reached the yard, heading around to the back of the house. Alexis waved up at Andrea on the roof and handed the rifle back to Dale before following Daryl.

* * *

><p>"We're already infected. Every one of us." Carol whispered to herself as she quietly left the kitchen and followed the short hallway into the living room. The revelation from Jenner's notes had created even more questions, but nobody wanted to ask them. "We're already infected," she whispered again as she headed up the stairs to check in on Lori. She passed by the room she shared with Sophie and paused in the doorway briefly. Carl was there with Sophie, as always. The two were sitting cross-legged on her bed with a checkerboard between them. Neither had spoken much since Shane was killed, but Carol knew they spent many hours whispering together. Perhaps it was possible that they were the only two living children in the world now, she mused. They both glanced up at her as she stood there, and she gave them a smile before moving on to find Lori. It wasn't difficult, she could hear her retching long before she was near. Carol hurried down the hall just in time to see her coming out of the small bathroom adjacent to the Grimes' bedroom.<p>

"My God," she said. "How can you still be sick? You haven't eaten anything since yesterday!" For days Lori had been struggling with nausea, upset stomach. Whether it be food poisoning, stomach flu, nerves or bad apples like Daryl had suggested, Lori had spent most of her time in bed. She sat down on the bed now with a sigh, and Carol hurried to dip a hand towel in the bucket of water she'd brought up from the well earlier. It was icy cold, but Lori pressed it against her face gratefully.

"Carol," she said faintly, her voice muffled by the towel. "I think I might be pregnant."

* * *

><p>"Do you think he's coming back?" Glenn stood on the highest point of the boulder, watching the woods beyond the orchard through binoculars and seeing nothing expect an occasional crow or squirrel.<p>

"Rick?" T-Dog was leaning on the boulder below him and watching as the sun started to drop lower in the sky. "Yeah, I think so. He's not reckless or stupid. And you know he wouldn't have gone off like that if he didn't have to."

"Yeah," said Glenn. "I guess I'd have done the same thing if I were him. It's just... everything seems different now. After that stuff Lex found in Jenner's book-thing."

"I'm not sure it really changes anything," said T-Dog. "Except how we treat our dead." They both heard footsteps and turned in time to see Daryl coming towards them, his face dark and stormy. He ignored them both and headed towards the orchard, crossbow in both hands as always.

"Hey," T-Dog shouted. "Where the hell you going?"

"Sick of fuckin' dried fruit and beef jerky," Daryl answered without bothering to slow down. "Gonna check the snares and see if we got anything. Back in a bit."

"Goddammit," Glenn said. "Rick doesn't want anyone going off alone. How am I supposed to stop him? Wrestle him to the ground?"

"I'd pay to see that," T-Dog snorted, turning again as Alexis approached them. "What's up, sis? Trouble in paradise?"

"There is no paradise," she scowled. "Which way did he go?" T-Dog and Glenn both pointed, and she caught sight of Daryl just as he passed behind a thick clump of bushes.

"Said he was checking the snares," said Glenn. "I don't think he set any too far out."

Alexis nodded and made her way through the orchard at a brisk pace, still cursing herself for her sudden attack of bitchiness back in the field. It didn't take her too long to find him, although he was somewhat deeper into the woods than she'd expected. The farmhouse was no longer in sight, nor could she see Glenn's red baseball cap marking his position on watch.

She found Daryl kneeling on a thin layer of snow, working to release a dead rabbit from one of the wire snares he'd set with Carl the day before. He glanced up at her as she approached, and she knew he'd probably heard her coming the whole time. She stood in place for a moment, looking around as he worked on the snare in silence.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she finally said. "That was a really shitty thing to say. I'm sorry, Daryl."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with you," he said without looking up from what he was doing. "Nothin' that ain't wrong with everyone else, anyway." She wasn't sure she completely understood his meaning, but decided not to press for details.

"I just can't stand the idea of Peter wandering around out there like that," she said. "It's making me sick."

"It ain't him," Daryl said, and stood up to reset the snare for another possible catch. "Even if he is walkin' around out there somewhere, it's just a dead body. It ain't your brother." He looked at her sideways, and she nodded at her feet.

"Daryl," she said quietly, and he turned to face her, his attention caught by the hesitant tone in her voice.

"I've never asked you for anything," she was still looking at the ground as she spoke. "But I have to ask you for something now."

"Ask me for what?" She could only look at his boots at the moment, but turned her face up to his when he stepped closer and traced the curve of her chin with a finger. The steel blue of his eyes never failed to hold her in place, and even now she wanted nothing more than to just stand here in the cold and be lost in that blue.

"Promise me that you'll never let me end up like that," she said it quickly, as if she was afraid that she would change her mind. "Don't let me become just another dead thing, walking around without a soul." Daryl regarded her quietly for a moment, and found himself wondering if he ever could put a bullet between her beautiful hazel-green eyes, even if it meant stopping her from getting up after death.

"If it comes down to that," he said. "I'll do us both. I'll promise you that."

* * *

><p>"What th'hell are they doin' down there?"<p>

"Shut up, asshole. They'll hear."

"Yeah but what're they doin'?"

"They're still talkin, fuckwit. Now shut up!"

He peered through the binoculars at them. The guy had set the crossbow on the ground when he found a rabbit in one of the traps. He looked like he knew what he was doing out here, and he also had that shifty sort of look about him that said he knew how to throw down and fight dirty if he had too. He wasn't very big but he looked wiry and mean as fuck. He had a big hunting knife strapped to his belt in easy reach, but no other weapons aside from the crossbow could be seen.

The girl looked tough, too. Not mean like him, but she had the look of a survivor and she looked strong enough to handle herself. She was armed, too, a single handgun in a holster on her hip with a strap around her thigh. But unlike the only woman in their own group, this one was pretty. She hadn't had enough hard living to take that from her yet. The crossbow guy was kissing her now, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it so her head tipped back and exposed her neck to him. And she liked it. _Oh yeah. _She liked it.

"How long we gonna sit here? My ass is frozen."

"Shut up. Go back to camp if yer such a pussy. The man says we watch, so that's what I'm gonna do."

He watched as the crossbow guy licked her neck and said something in her ear that made her laugh out loud as he pushed her up against a tree. He grinned and focused the binoculars in closer as crossbow guy pulled her shirt up and slipped his hands underneath. She unbuckled his belt and he heard himself laughing quietly deep down in his chest as he watched the two of them grappling against the tree.

"What's so funny? What are they doin' now... hey... holy fuck gimme those!"

A brief tug of war ensued for the binoculars, which ended with the smaller man losing and the larger man resuming his watch on the pair below. He zoomed in as close as he could and watched Alexis' face closely as she closed her eyes and let Daryl have his way with her against the tree, completely oblivious to their audience.

* * *

><p>Rick Grimes reached the roadside motel just before sunset. He'd hoped to get there earlier, but a wrong turn had interfered with that plan, and he'd been lucky to find the correct route before it got too dark. Without Glenn to act as navigator, it seemed nobody could manage a simple trip.<p>

As he pulled into the motel parking lot, it appeared that nothing had changed. Shane's jeep was still parked where they'd left it, although from where he was now he could only see the shape of it silhouetted against the fading sun behind it. Rick scanned the area quickly, then pulled around to the rear parking lot and parked the Explorer at the edge of the woods.

_"I tried to save you, did you know that? I went to the hospital to get you when it all started to fall apart. There were soldiers shooting civilians in the streets, Rick. Putting them down like animals. I don't even know why, but I went to get you anyway. I risked my life for you. But I couldn't get you out, so I got your family out instead."_

Rick got out of the Explorer with his gun drawn and flashlight in hand. He could see the rough path that led to the clearing, to the place where his best friend had fallen and had subsequently been he started up the path, the events of that terrible day played out in his head, and Shane's voice replayed like a recording in his head, over and over again.

_"You don't know. You don't have any idea. Yeah, but you really did it for me, buddy. Coming back from the dead just like everything was as it should be. But you're still just as blind as you ever were. You don't see. You never saw."_

Rick followed the path through the woods, using his flashlight to follow the footpath although the memory of this place was burned into his head so completely that he was sure he didn't need it. But the light reassured him, and he kept it pointed at the ground as he walked. When he reached the edge of the clearing, darkness had started to fall. He could see the wooden cross out of the corner of his eye. It had tilted sideways slightly as time and weather took its toll, but until he shone the light on it he would not be able to see if anything else had been disturbed.

__"This fucking world. This fucking godforsaken world of shit, Rick. There's nothing for me here now. I thought I could make it, thought I could hold out I thought I could live with this, but I can't. I just can't."__

"God damn you, brother." Rick spoke aloud. "If you'd said something sooner, if you'd talked to me... I could have saved you. I could have done _something._"

_"You're not supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to_ live_!"_

Rick shone the light directly on Shane's grave, and stood still for several long moments, taking in the sight before him. A thin layer of snow covered the area, but it wasn't enough to hide the fact that the grave had been recently disturbed. Dirt mixed with the snow directly under the sideways-leaning cross_, _and as Rick stepped forward he could just make out a rough path, as if something had been dragged across the ground._ Or dragged itself, _Rick thought to himself. He swallowed with a dry throat and followed the tracks.

As he moved further into the woods he paused more than once to listen, sure he'd heard the snap of a twig or rustle of something behind him. But the sounds never repeated and he moved on with a numb determination. But it didn't take long. Rick presently came upon a stone wall with a metal grate, which covered a drainage pipe leading into a sewer. For a moment he could only stand and stare until his eyes forced him to recognize his former partner and best friend.

Shane had dragged himself from his grave, weakened and hindered by the cold and made his way here. The wall had apparently stopped him, and without sound or scent to stimulate his instincts, he'd simply stayed where he was. His dead eyes fixed in his head, he didn't react as Rick approached him, simply sat there, slumped to the side and motionless. Rick frowned and forced himself to nudge the dead man's foot with the tip of his shoe, but Shane didn't react.

"Shane," Rick said firmly, and raised his gun in both hands to take careful aim between his eyes. "Look at me." For a long moment, nothing moved and no sound reached his ears, then Shane's right hand twitched, and his head rolled to the side. Rick looked into the dead eyes and waited until they were looking back at him, then pulled the trigger.

"Not gonna bury you again," he said, after the gunsmoke cleared and the shot had stopped echoing in his ears. He looked at the dead man lying on the ground before him for another moment, then turned his back and walked away. So preoccupied were his thoughts, he didn't realize he wasn't alone when he came out of the woods at the edge of the motel parking lot and headed for the Explorer.

"Howdy," said a voice, and Rick froze in place. A soldier stood next to the driver's side of the Explorer, his stance anything but casual. Dressed in full combat gear, complete with chest armor, helmet and a black bandanna pulled over the lower portion of his face. The eyes above the bandanna were wide and clear, fixed on Rick's face with a deadly seriousness. Most importantly, the fully automatic machine gun held in the soldier's hands was pointed straight at Rick's face, and he had no doubt about its accuracy.

"Howdy," said Rick, keeping his hands in plain sight. The soldier's eyes flicked down at the gun in his hand, then across his Sheriff's Department coat, hat and uniform.

"You're a cop?" he asked, and Rick nodded.

"I was," he said. "You a soldier?"

"I was," he lowered the weapon and nodded as Rick put his own gun into its holster, then reached up and pulled the bandanna away from his face.

"Corporal Kyle Davis, United States Army," he said with a sharp salute. "But I guess that would be more impressive if I had a platoon with me, wouldn't it?"

Rick shrugged, watching the man carefully. He took off his helmet, revealing a shock of sandy light-brown hair. Rick guessed him to be anywhere between thirty and forty years of age, although his eyes had the look of someone who had seen years more than he should have already.

"My truck broke down about two miles back," he said. "I was just looking over that Jeep out front when I heard a gunshot. That you? What did you shoot?"

"A walker," said Rick. Davis studied him with narrowed eyes, and Rick realized he was doing the same thing.

"There's no gas in that Jeep," said Rick. "But it runs otherwise. I can give you some if you like, don't have much extra, but I only need enough to get back to my family." Davis looked surprised at the offer, and nodded with a half smile.

"That's kind of you," he said. "Ain't seen much of that since I left Benning."

"Fort Benning?" said Rick. "You've been there?"

"I was stationed there," Davis said, and Rick watched as something dark spread through his eyes. "There's nothing left, so don't even ask. Nothing alive anyway." Rick watched his face closely, then nodded.

"It's getting dark," he said. "Let's get that Jeep gassed up." He drove the Explorer around to the front of the motel and backed it up next to the Jeep, then fished out the backup gas can in the back.

"I'm much obliged to you," said Davis as he poured gas into the tank. "I thought I'd be walking for days before I found anything that would run." Rick walked around the Jeep, shining the flashlight on the tires and checking for anything that looked out of the ordinary. When he reached the other side, he stopped and shone the light around for a moment.

"Something wrong?" Davis frowned.

"There was a bike here," said Rick. "A big old chopper. Hard to miss... it was out of gas, too."

"Sounds like you've got a story to tell," Davis commented. "How long ago?"

"A month," said Rick. "I guess somebody came through and took it." Something occurred to him then, and he pointed the flashlight towards the motel's office door, then abruptly walked towards it. Davis sensed something was off and immediately set down the gas can to follow him.

"What is it? Grimes... what's wrong?" Rick was standing at the door to the office, staring at it with a frown.

"Maybe nothing," he said. "The wind could have blown it away."

"Blown what away?"

"A note," said Rick. "I left a note on this door for a friend of mine, so he would know which way we went. I always leave him a note, and a map." he looked around the area, knowing that it was silly to even think it would just be lying there somewhere.

"You've been leaving breadcrumbs everywhere you go," said Davis. "For any scumbag to follow if they felt like it? Doesn't that seem a little... well... _stupid_, Grimes?"

Rick turned again to look at the spot where Merle's motorcycle had been parked, and a connection started to form in his mind.

"Oh my god," he breathed.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Doors, _When You're Strange_


	6. Secrets and Salutations

_Well we all have a face_  
><em>That we hide away forever<em>  
><em>And we take them out and<em>  
><em>Show ourselves<em>  
><em>When everyone has gone<em>  
><em>Some are satin some are steel<em>  
><em>Some are silk and some are leather<em>  
><em>They're the faces of the stranger<em>  
><em>But we love to try them on<em>

_Well we all fall in love_  
><em>But we disregard the danger<em>  
><em>Though we share so many secrets<em>  
><em>There are some we never tell<em>  
><em>Why were you so surprised<em>  
><em>That you never saw the stranger<em>  
><em>Did you ever let your lover see<em>  
><em>The stranger in yourself?<em>

_You may never understand_  
><em>How the stranger is inspired<em>  
><em>But he isn't always evil<em>  
><em>And he is not always wrong<em>  
><em>Though you drown in good intentions<em>  
><em>You will never quench the fire<em>  
><em>You'll give in to your desire<em>  
><em>When the stranger comes along...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Secrets and Salutations<strong>

"Let me get this straight," Davis paused and shone the flashlight around the dark parking lot for a moment, and they both listened to the silence before he turned the light back to the Jeep's engine. "You handcuffed a coked-up angry redneck asshole to a rooftop, left him there overnight, then went back with his angry redneck brother the next day, only to find he'd cut off his own hand to get loose."

Rick nodded, lips pressed tightly together as he attached the jumper cables to the Jeep's battery. It was still hours until sunrise, but any plans to spend the night here had been cast aside the moment he noticed Merle's motorcycle was gone.

"Try it now," he waved at the Jeep, and Davis leaned into the driver's side to turn the key in the ignition. He frowned hard as the engine turned over slowly, then finally caught. They exchanged a look as the engine sputtered to life, and Rick leaned over the engine to give the oil a quick check.

"One-handed man might find it hard to ride a motorcycle," Davis said. Rick stepped back, wiping his hands on a rag he'd found on the floor of the Jeep, and regarded him thoughtfully.

"That he would," he said. "Which means if it was him, he had help. Or at least had a cube van big enough to load a motorcycle in the back. Either way, somebody was here, and I've got that proverbial bad feeling."

"Grimes," Davis shook his head. "I owe you. It sounds like you're going to need all the help you can get. I'm offering help if you want it, but I'll understand if you can't. I had a family, too you know."

Rick stood back from the Jeep with his hands on his hips, frowning and listening as the sound of the engine grew steadier as the battery drew power from the Explorer. He had no reason to trust the man, and no reason not to. Judging by the bulging army-issue duffel bag sitting in the ground not far away, he was armed to the teeth and he knew how to use every bit of his arsenal. Exactly the kind of help that might come in handy if Rick's suspicions were true. But he had to admit his suspicions had been off more than once already in the last few months. _ There were soldiers shooting civilians in the streets, Rick. Putting them down like animals._

"The proverbial bad feeling," said Davis, taking Rick's silence as refusal. "I guess you get that from me, too, then."

"No," Rick sighed. "Actually, I don't. Where were you headed?"

"Texas," Davis shrugged. "It's home, although I doubt I'll find anyone there. Seemed as good a destination as any other."

Rick considered for a moment. He could hear nothing but a sort of defeated blankness behind Davis' voice. He didn't have a plan, wasn't on a mission or trying to find anything in particular, he was just going home because he couldn't think of anything better to do. Survival just for the sake of surviving... it was a common thread Rick was finding all too familiar.

"Follow me," he finally said. "Just keep in mind, the man who drove this Jeep did not leave us on good terms. Our angry redneck is a little trigger-happy, and I can't be responsible if you get shot on sight."

"Duly noted," Davis nodded, and gave the Jeep an uncertain look.

* * *

><p><em>Reverend Jeremiah Mayfield's wife was a hard-faced woman by the name of Daisy - yes, Daisy - who happened to be the most obese person ten-year old Alexis had ever set eyes upon. Her arrival in the Mayfield Home in Brighton, Massachusetts took place in the middle of the night. The typically disgruntled social worker who drove her to her new home dropped her off on the front porch without bothering to turn off the car's engine and drove away with a beep and a wave just as Daisy Mayfield opened the front door to let in their newest charge. Having long resigned herself to the expectations society placed upon the wife of a man of God, she accepted her responsibility to those in need with quiet resentment. Regarding the small female creature in front of her with an air of disgust, she made no effort to hide her distaste with the girl's skinny appearance and well-used clothing. <em>

__After being removed from her home in Benton, Alabama __at the age of six__ after her parents were killed in a car accident, Alexis had been placed with her only surviving relative, a grandmother in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The old woman died of natural causes on Alexis' eighth birthday, and the child subsequently became the property of the State of Massachusetts. Within two years' time she'd been shuttled between three homes for vague "behavior" reasons that consisted mostly of fighting and running away. What the intake paperwork did not say was that she ran away from the first home because her first foster parents threw away all of her personal possessions the moment she arrived. In the second home she bullied the younger girls by pulling their hair and pinching them, flushed six live goldfish down the toilet and then set the garage on fire after being punished for murdering the fish. In the third she ran away three times. The first time was because the foster parents refused to let her have a puppy, the second time because one of the older girls gave her a black eye, and the third time for no apparent reason at all other than habit._  
><em>

_"We don't take girls here," Daisy said bluntly. "So don't expect to get treated like one. Bedrooms are on the second floor, you get to have your own since you're a girl and the law says you have to. Don't expect the others to be happy about it, we've had to move them around because of you. The rules are on the wall in the kitchen, you break them and you get punished. You're here because nobody else wants you, which must mean you're trouble. We don't allow trouble here. Don't think you're going to get an easy ride just because you're a girl. Understand?"_

_Alexis stood holding her small suitcase in both hands, her expression blank as she stared up at the mountain of a woman with such a delicate name in front of her. _She had always been a quick study. She had a sharp mind that absorbed details and learned fast, and as she stood there listening to Daisy Mayfield give her unwelcoming speech, she decided several things. First, Daisy Mayfield was a fat, bitter old bitch who hated children, possibly because she had none of her own. Second, she had already made enemies by getting her own room. Someone had to give up the luxury of a room to themselves because of her, and that meant she was starting off with no credibility. Third, all of the other kids were boys, which meant she would be a target for ridicule, animosity and possibly much worse. In summary, there were no allies to be had here so there was no reason why she should pretend to be happy about her new home._  
><em>

_"We home-school Monday through Saturday and go to church on Sundays. You give thanks to God before you eat and before you sleep, and we have two hours of bible study every night. No swearing, no stealing and no talking unless we speak to you first. It's late, so we'll skip the introductions. Your bedroom is on the second floor, last one on the left. Do you have any questions?"  
><em>

_"Yes," she said quietly, and Daisy glared impatiently._

_"Make it fast," she said. _

_"Can you see your own feet over your stomach, or does someone have to help you put your shoes on when you go to church?"_

_Alexis spent her first twelve hours in the Mayfield Home locked in a closet with two dirty mops and a broom.  
><em>

__Reverend Jeremiah Mayfield - Jerry to his friends - reminded Alexis of a skeleton. Tall and lanky with hands as big as frying pans and feet as flat as a duck's, his appearance would have been amusing if it wasn't so disturbing. To make matters worse, he had a long, crooked nose and small piggish eyes that did little to improve his appearance. He let Alexis out of the closet the next morning and proceeded to sternly lecture her on the values of good behavior and the importance of respecting the adults as rulers of the household. She listened in silence throughout the sermon, and when he was finished he proceeded to beat her with his belt until she cried, something that took a surprisingly long time. Alexis' first bible lesson was the part about sparing the rod and spoiling the child. __

__At breakfast she refused to eat or speak, only stared at the flowery tablecloth in angry silence and ignored the arrival of her four foster "brothers," although she heard and memorized their names almost immediately. Curtis, Jason, Peter and Benjamin, oldest to youngest. The Reverend escorted her back to the closet for a lesson about being rude before leaving for the day. She continued her angry silence for three days straight, refusing to eat anything as if on a silent hunger strike, although she had no idea what such a gesture even meant. She became well acquainted with the reverend's belt and the broom closet quickly, but her stubbornness was not to be underestimated. By dinnertime on the fourth day she could barely sit without crying from the soreness of her backside, but stubbornly continued her vigil... until one of the boys kicked her hard under the table when Daisy left them alone for a moment.__

__"Hey," Peter hissed at her, and Alexis looked up into the pair of brown eyes that stared at her across the table. "Just eat, and they'll stop!"__

__"Eat your food, bitch," Curtis said, and she immediately felt a stab of fear as she met the oldest boy's angry glare. He was sixteen and two years away from being legally free of homeschooling and bible study, and in no mood to put up with a bratty female's stupidity. "If you don't, they'll make us eat yours and I can't stand this slop. So do it, or I'll make you sorry later."__

__Alexis looked back and forth between them for a moment, then picked up her plate and threw it at Curtis on one smooth motion. The mess earned her another night in the closet and another belt whipping, but the Mayfields seemed exhausted with the battle and decided to lock her in her room instead. She accepted the terms, mostly because her stomach was driving her insane with hunger, and managed to make it through meals with no further theatrics.  
><em>_

__Curtis made her sorry for the food-throwing incident exactly two weeks later. He and Jason, the second-oldest, crept into her room after the rest of the house was asleep and dragged her out of her bed, tied a pillowcase over her head and stripped her of every stitch of clothing. While no actual assault occurred, they threatened to perform the most vile acts they could think of on her young body, whispering things that no ten year old girl could (or should) understand in her ear.  
><em>_

__Alexis spent the next two months sleeping with a chair wedged beneath the doorknob of her closed door. Twelve-year-old Peter overheard Curtis and Jason laughing about the "trick" they'd played on her and their plans to follow through with at least some of the things they had threatened to do to her. Not trusting the Reverend and his wife to make the right choices, he took it upon himself to look after her, and started by slipping out onto the roof and peeking through her bedroom window after lights-out to make sure she was alone. At first she ignored him, hiding under her blankets in stark terror. Eventually he let himself in, and began a routine of sleeping on the floor next to her bed until morning, when he would slip out and return to this own room before he was missed.__ Alexis eventually glued herself to Peter's side and the two were inseparable for the duration of their shared childhood.  
><em>___

__Six years later, Peter and Alexis both took the state high school equivalency test. He was eighteen, she sixteen. Peter barely passed, and Alexis scored a perfect 100. Peter left home in the middle of the night and took the underage Alexis with him. The Reverend and his wife did nothing other than file a report with the local office, and nobody bothered to look for them for more than a day. __

__Two years later, __at the age of eighteen__, Alexis Reilly walked smugly into Child Protective Services and reported her former foster parents to the authorities for neglect, abuse, and failing to report the sexual assault of a minor child in their custody. She made sure she was present in the courtroom to gloat at them both on the day they were forced to face a judge for their actions. Peter stood at her side, loyal to the end, as the Reverend was sentenced to two years in prison, and Daisy received two years' probation. Curtis and Jason had long since left the state and were never found.  
><em>_

__Alexis enrolled herself in college and never looked back at the past again. She'd finally taken control of her life, and encased herself firmly in an almost impenetrable bitch-bubble. Nobody would ever take that control from her again. At least that is what she believed for years, until the day she knelt over Peter's dying body and felt every ounce of self-assuredness leaving her body as if she were nothing but a deflating balloon...__

"We need to change the rules," said Daryl abruptly, sounding almost angry. "I need more than one question a day. What the _fuck?_ I thought_ Child Protective Services _meant they protect the kids, not stick 'em in worse places. Maybe me and Merle were better off being ignored by them."

"Maybe," Alexis shrugged. "But they can't all be bad... I guess I was just lucky."

The sun was just starting to peek over the edge of the trees across the road from the farmhouse, and light started seeping through the curtains drawn across the window of their small bedroom. Alexis was glad to see the sun, as it gave hope that the cold might soon drift away, but she dreaded the coming of today for purely selfish reasons. Daryl was up and getting dressed in the dimness of the room. Alexis sat up and watched him with a sullen expression, sensing that he was anxious to get out into the woods by himself.

"You shouldn't go before Rick gets back," she said quietly. He smirked as he pulled his shirt right-side out and slipped it on over his head. He'd put off the hunting trip for a day after Rick had departed, but food stores were getting thin and the two rabbits they'd pulled from the snares yesterday had only been enough for everyone to get a single meal.

"Not this again. I told ya I won't go far, an' I'll bring one of the walkies. If anything happens y'all can just call me back."

"I just don't want you to go alone," Alexis insisted. "Rick said he would be back today. Can't you wait until then?"

"There ain't nothin' left here for food," Daryl said, and sat next to her on the bed to pull on his boots. "We all got to eat better. The kids are getting skinny... and so are you. And Lori looks like shit, in case you hadn't noticed." He glanced up at her and found her regarding him with a curious smile. "What?"

"If I didn't know better," she said. "I might think you actually care about this bunch of misfits."

"You should know better," he mumbled, averting his eyes to focus on the laces of his boots. "Bein' from _Alabama_ and all. You were holdin' out on me... all along just a Southern girl with a Yankee-bitch attitude."

"Whatever," she snorted. "I still hate the South."

"Seems to me you should hate Boston," Daryl quipped. "Ain't nobody in the South ever hurt you as much as they did there."

"Please don't go, Daryl," she said again, and he turned to face her fully, planting both hands on either side of her on the bed and resting his forehead against hers.

"We gotta eat," he said. "And you know it. I'll be back before dark, though. I won't go overnight."

"Promise," she said. "Promise you'll come back."

"I promise."

* * *

><p>Dale was sitting in the backyard, cleaning his shotgun and looking across the orchard with mild interest as the afternoon sun reflected off the slightly fading colors of the remaining leaves on the fruit trees. Daryl Dixon had passed by several hours ago, heading for the woods with the ever-present crossbow slung on his back. He hadn't carrying the equipment he usually took with him on overnight hunts, which indicated that the trip would only be a short one. Even so, Dale hadn't missed the fact that Daryl's step seemed quicker and he carried himself differently than he had when he'd first met the volatile younger man. A shadow fell across him and he looked up and behind himself to see Alexis had come up behind his chair, blocking the sun momentarily.<p>

"Daryl's bringing us more rabbits for dinner tonight," Dale said amiably as she sat down on the back steps to his left. A couple hours remained until the afternoon turned into evening, but Alexis appeared to be watching the sun as if it were a clock.

"He's hoping for a deer," she said shortly, and Dale nodded. She'd been quiet since reading the fateful words in Jenner's journal the other night, as had everyone else. The implications of the man's theory had two possible outcomes. Either he was completely insane, or the human race was literally on the verge of extinction. Neither one was very reassuring.

"And you were hoping he wouldn't go," Dale finished her unspoken thought, and she shrugged in reply.

"I just don't feel like it's safe," she said. "Like Rick said, nobody should go anywhere alone. Funny how he's the first to break that rule, though."

"Well," Dale sighed. "Maybe in a way he is alone, without Shane at his right hand anymore. There wasn't much to discuss. He had to go back to find Shane, it's what anyone would do for someone as close as a brother to them."

Alexis didn't reply, just crossed her arms on her knees and stared into the distance where Daryl had disappeared from sight. She knew she appeared to be acting like a sulking child, and imagined that her worrying about Daryl going off alone was amusing to others. But the sudden revelation that they were not alone back at the isolated campground, coupled with the possibility that anyone who died would become a walker had rattled the sense of safety she'd been allowing herself to enjoy.

"Weak," she muttered, and Dale glanced at her with a frown. "We let our guard down, got comfortable. We forgot that life isn't simple or easy anymore, if it ever was. It makes us weak."

"Weak?" Dale looked genuinely confused. "Is it weakness to want to be content? Do you think it's made Daryl weak that he's settled into a life that doesn't fill him with rage at any given moment? Because that's what he's done, you know. I might even say he's _happy_ with you, and maybe even all of us. And I might even say the same thing about you. Does that make you weak?"

"No," she said faintly. "What makes us weak is thinking that happy is the same as safe. Because it isn't. It makes us forget what we shouldn't forget."

"Your brother," said Dale. "That's what this is about. You lost your brother and now you're worried that what Jenner thought might be true for him." She shook her head, lips pressed together, but it wasn't a denial so much as a refusal to admit it was fact.

* * *

><p>In the kitchen, Lori stood at the sink listening to Alexis' words as they floated through the window. She'd not intended to eavesdrop, she'd only been washing Carl's clothes in the sink with water Carol drew from the well. She knew she should walk away and stop listening like a nosy roommate, but the fear in Alexis' voice was infectious and she couldn't tear herself away.<p>

"We've been through plenty already," Dale was saying. "We can get through whatever else comes our way, we just have to be smart and work together."

"We're all_ infected_, Dale," said Alexis. "I know we only have the scribbles of a stranger to go on, but I'm not sure I need proof of that. Rick believed it or he wouldn't have gone after Shane like that."

"He went after Shane to be sure," Dale began, but Alexis shook her head.

"No, he went after Shane because he couldn't bear to leave him like that. And who can blame him? You said it yourself, it's no more than any of us would do. But what does it mean for us, the ones who haven't died left? What does it mean for the human race? Are we going to pass it onto our children and just keep some bizarre birth-to-death-to-undeath cycle going?"

"Stop," said Dale firmly, and Lori placed a hand over her still-flat belly unconsciously. It was a thought that hadn't occurred to her. What did this mystery disease mean for children born afterwards?

"Look," Dale was saying outside. "The fate of the world isn't _your_ personal responsibility. I've little doubt that humans somehow managed to do this to themselves, but there's nothing we can do to change it now. All we can do is keep trying, keep looking and _keep living._"

"I'm scared, Dale," said Alexis, and Lori was struck by the absolute fear she heard in her voice. "More scared than I've been since all this started. Something's going to happen, and I don't know if we're strong enough to survive it."

"Incoming," T-Dog's voice suddenly crackled across the walkie-talkie Dale was holding in his lap. "Vehicles coming up the road guys, two of them." Lori gave up all pretense of not being there and opened the back door, making Alexis jump in surprise.

"Two?" Dale was saying into the walkie, and Andrea suddenly came into view from the side of the house, followed closely by Glenn. "Are you sure?" Alexis was already running around to the front of the house with her weapon drawn. T-Dog was standing on the roof of the RV, looking up the road with the binoculars.

"It looks like Rick," he called down to her. Lori followed close behind Alexis, and her sigh of relief was audible.

"You said two vehicles," Alexis said. She heard the others coming around the house, accompanied by the sounds of chambers snapping into place and rifles preparing to fire. On the front porch, Carol pushed the children back into the house, but lingered in the doorway to watch. Before T-Dog could elaborate further, his Explorer came into view and quickly turned into the driveway. Rick pulled it to the side and stepped hard on the brakes, jumping out quickly as if he wanted to beat the other driver there.

"Who's following you?" Alexis called, and Andrea grabbed hold of Lori's wrist before she could run forward.

"It's okay," Rick held up a hand. "Don't shoot him, guys. He was invited."

"Who was invited?" Glenn sounded both confused and nervous as the sound of a second vehicle reached their ears. Rick opened his arms as Lori ran to him with a choked sound and he was hugging her tightly when Shane Walsh's black Jeep appeared in the driveway.

"Holy shit," said Glenn out loud, and Alexis could only stare as the driver parked the Jeep behind the Explorer and turned the engine off.

"Rick, who is that?" Lori's voice sounded strangled, and Alexis suddenly felt very sorry for her. But when the driver emerged and stood next to the vehicle, looking at them all uncertainly, she felt her own heart start to pound hard in her chest. The man was dressed in a soldier's uniform that was identical to the ones she'd seen in Harmony months before, all he was missing was the helmet with plexiglass shield to protect him from the blood spray when he shot someone in the head...

_A sudden crash sounded as the front door was literally kicked in. Three soldiers dressed in riot gear poured into the room, weapons brandished and voices raised. Daryl spun with the crossbow and took aim at the nearest, but he was too close and the man ducked and lunged in closer, clubbing him solidly in the head with the butt of his weapon. Daryl stumbled backwards against the wall and the crossbow was slapped out of his hands._

_"Get up!" the next one shouted, pointing his rifle at Merle as the older Dixon reached for a shotgun. Alexis let out a short scream as the third charged towards her and Peter, shoving them towards the wall next to Daryl. Jones scrambled backwards towards a far corner as Merle was shoved growling like an angry dog to stand against the wall with them. He gripped Daryl's shoulder as the younger man stumbled, dizzy and bleeding from the blow to his head, and held him upright against the wall._

_"Any more?" the first soldier demanded of Jones, who sat staring mutely at the scene before him. "Is there anyone else here?"_

_"N - no," Jones stammered. "It's just us."_

_"Sir!" one of the soldiers spoke up, a walkie-talkie in his hand. "The clinic and school are cleared, but there's walkers in the street. We've lost contact with five and six."_

_"Give the order to pull out," the leader said shortly, then turned to look at the group against the wall. "As soon as we take care of them." Then he turned and in one swift motion drew his sidearm and shot Sanders straight through the back of the head. Jones opened his mouth to shout and the second soldier shot him right between the eyes, blood splattering on the wall behind him. Alexis was screaming before she fully realized what was happening, and the room started to spin before her eyes. Merle shoved Daryl hard to the side, and Daryl slammed into Alexis. They both tumbled to the floor in a heap as gunfire erupted and bullets struck the wall where their heads had been a split second before. Peter dropped to the floor beside them, hands covering his head..._

_She was kneeling on the ground with both hands pressed over the gunshot wound in Peter's chest. She looked up at them both, her face completely white in stark contrast to the bright crimson blood draining onto the ground next to her._

_"I can't stop the bleeding," she said faintly._

_"Can't stay here," Merle said loudly as Daryl walked towards Alexis and Peter, the latter bleeding to death before their eyes. She was talking to him, her voice low and shaky but Daryl couldn't quite make out the words. He looked the man over quickly, taking note of his ashen face and the enormous pool of blood around and under him._

_"He's bleedin' out," Daryl said in a matter-of-fact tone. Alexis shook Peter slightly, as if to rouse him from his pitiful state. "He's not gonna make it," Daryl said. She turned her head and looked up at him, tears, anger, fear and countless other emotions boiling within her eyes. Peter made a horrible choking sound and coughed blood that sprayed onto her t-shirt._

_"Peter," she whispered, and he opened his eyes, focusing on her with great effort. _

_"I don't know what to do," she said. "Tell me what to do!" Peter looked at her, then over her shoulder at Daryl, who was clearly uncomfortable with staying out in the open._

_"Can't stay here," Daryl said to her, and stepped closer. "If yer still comin' it has to be now." Peter reached up and gripped both of her wrists, then pushed her hands away from his chest._

_"Run," he whispered. "Run now."_

"This is Corporal Kyle Davis," Rick's voice broke through the images swirling in Alexis' head as he addressed the group. "He was stationed at Fort Benning. Is everyone okay here? Has anything happened?"

"Yeah, said Alexis. "Something happened, all right." Her feet were already moving, closing the distance to the new arrival rapidly.

"Lex!" Dale shouted, and the soldier saw something that might have resembled his own death in her eyes as she closed in on him. He took two steps back and started to dodge to the right, but she somehow moved faster and he found himself flat on his back on the cold ground with a throbbing knee and a nine-millimeter barrel pressed against his forehead.

"Lex, don't," said Rick. "What's the matter with you?" He started forward, but stopped as Kyle held up one hand to him.

"You," she breathed, and Kyle stared in more than just mild surprise at the fury burning within the green eyes that looked down the barrel at him. The ferocity of her expression helped dull how impressed he was that she'd just used a textbook-perfect leg sweep to take him down and get the advantage over him in less than a second.

"Don't know you," he said quietly. He knew he could kill her in the space of a heartbeat, just flip her over and snap her neck before anyone got a shot off. But he didn't want to kill her, or anyone else. Not anymore.

"No," she said. "You don't. But since I can't get my hands on the bastard that _executed_ my brother, you'll do just fine."

"Alexis," said Rick again. "Drop the gun. Right now." She didn't move, but wondered if he was pointing a gun at her head, the same way he'd done to Daryl when he tried to take Jim down.

"We don't kill the living," she whispered. "Do you? How many civilians did you execute after the outbreak, _Corporal?"_

"Lex," Rick said again, and she heard the sound of the others moving around, coming closer.

"Two, since you asked so nicely." said Davis clearly, but quietly. "My wife and my son."

* * *

><p>"Shit. There's a new guy with them."<p>

"Huh? New guy? Who?

"Looks like a fuckin' soldier."

"What's he doin there?"

"Actually," the larger man laughed. "It looks like they might shoot him. Sweet Ass from the woods is sitting on him with a gun in his face."

"Damn," said the other. "I might_ let_ 'er point a gun at me for that. So what do we do?"

"Nothin," the first man shrugged, and lowered the binoculars. "Duke and Jess gonna grab the crossbow guy, bring 'im back to camp. Once they realize he's gone missin' they'll come lookin, and the rest will be easier."

He peered through the binoculars once more, wishing he could zoom in closer for one more look at her, or at least his favorite part of her anatomy which had inspired her nickname.

"When that one comes lookin, I get first shot. Hear me?

"I ain't fuckin' deaf."

"No, but you are a fuckin' moron."

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Billy Joel, _The Stranger_


	7. Nightfall

**A/N: **Hi everyone... this chapter may seem a little short (by my long-winded standards anyway), mainly because It was becoming such a huge beast I decided to break it into two parts. Hope everyone is still enjoying the ride. :)

This story continues where **_Road to Nowhere_** left off. If you're joining us for the first time, please go to my profile page and start with part one. It simply won't do to start here. :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or hold any rights whatsoever to any of the Walking Dead characters, living, dead or undead. I take no credit for Robert Kirkman's storylines or any other of his creations, as he is the master and must not be disrespected in such a way. I do however take credit for my own OCs and original thought processes. Please respect my ramblings and do not borrow or steal. Unless you happen to be Robert Kirkman and would like to borrow them for awhile. Thank you!

* * *

><p><em>Forthcoming entry of pain<em>  
><em>I will be the poison shot into your heart<em>  
><em>I will be the one to end your life<em>  
><em>I will beat you to the ground<em>  
><em>I will see you wither like a rose<em>  
><em>Turning black and turning blue<em>  
><em>Like any flower in the frost<em>  
><em>Death has come for you<em>  
><em>This hatred will kill us both<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Nightfall<strong>

The Neely family farmhouse sat on approximately three acres of land, most of which was wooded and unused. It was there that Daryl went first, and he took some pleasure in knowing that he could ignore the _No Trespassing_ signs which forbade him from hunting on private land. He'd seen tracks in the orchard, under the trees where the snow was still undisturbed and shaded from the sun. Deer, at least three of them, coming out of the woods at night to feed on the fallen and long-dried up apples. The discovery made him want to run, but he kept his pace careful and deliberate as he moved into the woods, following the trail left by the deer.

He was slightly annoyed with himself for feeling guilty about wanting to go out alone. The expression on Alexis' face had said it all, she was upset that he'd refused her repeated requests to stay. She didn't understand, and he hadn't expected her to. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to stay behind with her, it was more that he _couldn't_. Cabin fever was bound to set in eventually, and those closest to him would suffer from his moodiness. The need for food was a real one, but the need to be outdoors without the suffocating walls around and above his head was greater. He wasn't sure she would understand that, but the further he walked into the woods, his eyes watching the trail and ears keenly alert to the sounds around him, he started to wonder if it was _alone time_ he wanted after all. His thoughts kept wandering back to the farmhouse, and he wondered what everyone else was doing, or if maybe Rick had returned yet.

By noon he'd crossed the property line and found himself stepping onto the neighboring land, which did not appear to have been inhabited much before the outbreak had began. Rustic only barely began to describe the small house on the open lot, and Daryl stood quietly in the trees, watching and listening for signs of life. The yard was overgrown and think with tangled grass and weeds, and the roof of the small house was completely caved in. A car had once been parked in front of the house, but it was now almost completely hidden by the thick overgrowth, visible only as a flash of dull rusty red when the wind blew.

The deer trail abruptly ended here, and try as he might Daryl could find no further sign of which direction they'd gone. Daryl knelt and poked at the leaves closest to him, looking for even the smallest hint of a trail, then sighed heavily and stood up again. The day was already half gone, and he'd promised to get back before dark. Maybe if he was lucky he'd get some more rabbits on the way back, or - _please no_ - squirrels.

"God _damn_ I'm sick of squirrel," he grumbled to himself.

"Yeah," said a voice. "I never could get a taste for 'em myself."

Daryl snapped up the crossbow and spun around to face the source of the words, and found himself standing face to face with... a woman. Her gender wasn't obvious at first glance, she was stocky and roundish, and dressed heavily in layers of men's clothing. She could have been forty years old, but the long lines of gray in her tangled hair made her appear older. Daryl took in all the details in a second, but wasted no time dwelling on any of them.

"Who the fuck are you?" He demanded, finger on the trigger. The crossbow was locked and loaded, and he took aim at the center of her forehead. She stood there with her hands at her sides and grinned at him, revealing a wide gap from at least four missing top teeth.

"I'm Jess," she said. "An' yer on my land, fuckwit."

"Yer land?" Daryl glanced towards the dilapidated house and the hidden car in the weeds. "Don't look like it's been anybody's land for years."

"Well, it's mine now," she said. "An' if you got a problem wit' that you can take it up with my husband. He's right behind ya."

Daryl gritted his teeth and cursed inwardly at the sound of a gun being cocked right behind his left ear. He hesitated for a moment, then lowered the crossbow and raised his free hand up in the air.

"All right," he said. "Sorry for the trespassin. I'll be on my way, no harm d- " the last words were cut off abruptly as something slammed into the back of his head. Lightning flashed brightly behind his eyes for a brief second, and as the ground rushed up at him, he heard himself thinking that he was really sick of people hitting him in the head everywhere he went.

"Like I say," Jess continued, bending down to pull the crossbow free from Daryl's limp fingers. "We don't eat squirrel."

* * *

><p>"She's right," said Corporal Kyle Davis. "It happened everywhere. The smaller towns were overrun too fast, sometimes within a day. I don't know exactly when the order came down, but at some point we - they - stopped trying to contain and started eliminating the potential hostiles."<p>

"Potential hostiles," said T-Dog. "You mean those who weren't bitten yet."

"That's right," Kyle looked at him with eyes that were both haunted and defiant. Alexis had let him up from the ground and backed off, but she watched him suspiciously from a distance with her gun held in her hand. She'd frightened herself with her reaction to this stranger's arrival. The very sight of the uniform had driven her into action without thought, but she had no intention of apologizing for her behavior. Not yet anyway.

"So that's how the military deals with a crisis, is it?" Andrea said angrily. Dale put a hand on her arm but she shrugged it off. "Just kill everyone? Put a bullet in their heads so you don't have to worry about them?"

"Somebody made the decision, somebody gave the order," said Kyle. "Whether or not it was the right decision, hell I don't know. All I know is, in Atlanta the dead outnumbered the living by fifty to one in less than 48 hours. They didn't contain it fast enough, and it spread like wildfire."

"Are you saying it started in Atlanta?" Rick frowned, but Kyle was shaking his head. He leaned back against the Jeep, giving Alexis a very slight glare as his knee twinged in pain.

"Nobody knows where it started. Patient zero could have been a scientist working at the CDC. Or a mad cow, a sick monkey, a crow with bird flu... a terrorist with a new bio-weapon... hell, maybe it was just a bad cheeseburger purchased at a roadside gas station. If there was anybody who knew, they're gone now."

"We've been to the CDC," Glenn spoke up, and Alexis shot him a warning look.

"So have I," said Kyle. "It's gone, the entire complex was destroyed. Probably had a self-destruct plan and blew itself up."

"Yeah," Rick sighed, and glanced up at the sky as a gentle and cold rain started to fall. "Yeah, it blew itself up and took one of our group with it." Kyle said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Whose turn on watch?" Rick asked everyone, and looked around at the group. The rain had started to fall harder, but still nobody moved.

"Mine," said Dale. "You all get inside, I'll watch the back if someone keeps an eye out front."

"Daryl said he'd be back before dark," said Alexis, and Rick looked at her and then around the yard as if noticing for the first time that Daryl wasn't with them.

"He won't stay out there long in the rain," Dale reassured her quietly as everyone started to move towards the house. "He's got no gear, so he'll come back. I'll watch for him, you get inside and keep an eye on our new friend."

Alexis eyed their "new friend" carefully as he hauled a large duffel bag out of the Jeep and limped past her without a word. Carol still stood on the porch, watching him approach with the same uncertainty, but he simply nodded politely and called her _ma'am_ as he passed by. Inside he looked around, seeming to be surprised by the relative comfort of the large but simplistic living room. Carol was at her best in a house that she could keep as a home. Whether it made her happy or not was anyone's guess, but she kept the fire burning and stopped the dust from settling as if it was her personal responsibility.

"We have some cold packs left in first aid," she said quietly as Kyle sat in one of the armchairs and pulled his leg up on a footstool with a painful grimace. He looked up as if to answer her, but she was already gone into the kitchen. His eyes fell on Carl as he looked across the room, and suddenly everyone was aware that he was looking at the boy as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Carl," said Rick, clearing his throat once. "This is Corporal Davis. He's a soldier."

"Hi," said Carl, eying the duffel bag with interest. "You got guns in there. I can tell."

"Well," said Kyle, glancing down at the bag, then at Rick. "You don't miss a thing, don't you? Yep, I got guns in there. Guns without ammo, I'm afraid."

T-Dog gave Alexis a quick shoulder squeeze and headed out the front door, intending to pull all of the vehicles closer to the house for the night. Carol came back with the cold pack, and he took it from her with a polite nod, then watched as she steered Carl out of the room and upstairs.

"Just the one?" Kyle asked Rick, and he nodded.

"Carol's daughter is with us too," Lori added. "Her husband, Ed, died back before we left Atlanta."

Kyle nodded and looked at the others in the room. Andrea sat by herself on the room's only other chair, her feet pulled up underneath her and a rifle across her lap. Her girlish sitting position was an odd contrast to the large weapon she held. Alexis sat on the window seat, deliberately positioning herself so she had a clear view of him. Glenn stood right next to her, leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded and an unreadable expression on his face.

"Everything fell apart too fast. Fort Benning was evacuated just after wildfire was declared in Atlanta," Kyle said. "Mine was the last squad, we were supposed to be evacuating the civilians on the base. We had sixteen people with us... mostly women and kids, a few elderly. The order came down just before the last helicopter was supposed to pick us up. Three of the squad refused to execute the civilians, and two of them were shot by the lieutenant for disobeying orders."

"Two," said Alexis. "What about the third?"

"The third shot the lieutenant between the eyes," Kyle said simply. "And then the rest of the squad opened up on him, so he ran."

Alexis returned his hard stare for a moment, then blinked and found herself having to look away.

"It's getting dark," Glenn said after the silence in the room had grown past the point of uncomfortable. Alexis picked up the walkie-talkie sitting next to her on the window seat and clicked the button.

"Dale, any sign of Daryl?" she released the button and everyone listened to the static for a moment.

"None," Dale replied a few seconds later. "It's raining pretty good out here. Maybe he found shelter."

"I doubt it," Alexis said as she set the walkie down and looked at Rick. "Does Daryl strike you as the type to get squeamish about a little rain and run for cover?"

"No," said Rick, and glanced at Kyle. The two men exchanged a look for a moment, and Alexis was instantly suspicious.

"What?" she demanded. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Back at the motel," Rick sighed. "The note I left for Morgan was gone. It didn't say exactly where we were going, but it did say which direction. Somebody could have followed us to the campground."

"The ones who were watching us," said Andrea, and Rick nodded. "Okay, so what? We left immediately. Could they have followed us?" She frowned at Rick as he ran a hand through his hair in that uncomfortable way her had when he didn't want to say something.

"Oh for _fuck's_ sake," Alexis exclaimed, and everyone looked at her in surprise. "You left a goddamned note at the campground too, didn't you?"

"I didn't leave it out in the open," Rick said defensively. "Like the one at the motel, it just said which direction we were headed. I taped it to the picnic table, underneath it. I wasn't even sure if Morgan would ever make it that far." Alexis dropped her head into her hands with a frustrated sound, and Glenn made a small moaning noise as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

"They followed us," said Alexis. "And if not them, somebody else. I know it." She knew she was sounding paranoid, but she didn't care. Full dark had fallen now, and Daryl still wasn't back. Even if he'd had no success with the hunt, he'd have been back by now.

"There's something else," said Rick, and she lifted her head to look at him warily.

* * *

><p>Daryl awoke to the sounds of a crackling campfire and the murmur of voices somewhere nearby. His head was pounding and he knew he was sporting a good solid lump even before he moved his hands to feel it. He was somewhat surprised to find that he could use his hands freely, whoever had hit him over the head hadn't tied him or done anything else to stop him from getting up and leaving. He was, however, face down on a dirty blanket that smelled like feet and had no idea how long he'd been there.<p>

He pushed himself up and looked around with a momentary sense of wild confusion. He was lying in what appeared to be a rough shelter built with branches tied together and covered with a green tarp to keep the rain off. It provided a roof and one wall, and would do exactly jack shit to protect anyone from cold weather, but it had served sufficiently to keep the rain off him while he was out. He groped around the ground with his hands, keeping his eyes fixed on the soft orange glow that indicated a campfire was nearby. The crossbow was nowhere to be found, of course. They'd taken his knife and found the small gun he strapped to his ankle, too. He couldn't even find a damned rock in the dark.

He crawled out of the shelter and stood up, and at that moment realized he wasn't wearing his coat or boots. They'd taken all but his shirt and pants, it seemed, but he didn't figure on that stopping him from getting back to the farmhouse to warn the others. He moved carefully towards the campfire ahead, using the cover of a large tree to hide him from the view of anyone who might be sitting around it. He could see three of them now, two with their backs to him. The third was the woman with the missing teeth, and he assumed one of the others was whoever had hit him.

Daryl looked to his left and saw nothing but trees catching the firelight in the dark. He looked right and saw the same, and realized he had no idea where he was or which way to go. He was completely turned around, not even able to spot stars in the sky through the rainclouds overhead. Then something metallic flickered in the dark off to his right, and he realized the firelight was reflecting off what appeared to be a truck. And if there was a truck, there must be a road. Daryl glanced back towards the fire quickly, then headed towards the vehicle on quiet if not cold feet.

As he drew closer he saw it was a white cube-shaped truck, the kind businesses might use for deliveries. Spattered with mud and grime up both sides, it was hard to see in the dark until he got closer. But something struck him as familiar about the shape of it, and he frowned at the driver's side door, noticing the wide red lettering that was partially hidden by mud. _Ferenc Builders_, it read, and Daryl stopped short as his confused brain tried to catch up with what he was seeing.

"What the _fuck?_" he breathed, then froze as he heard the distinctive click of a zippo lighter, and a tiny flame sprang to life, silhouetting a tall shape towards the rear of the truck. Daryl thought he might never breathe again as eyes squinted over the flame that lit the tip of a cigar. Eyes steely blue like his own, but harder with many more miles behind them, they looked up at him as smoke billowed up and the tip of the cigar glowed red, then the lighter was snapped shut and the flame extinguished.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Look what the cat done brought out into the rain. Hey, little brother. Ain't you glad to see me?"

* * *

><p>"It's stopped raining. We have to go look for him," Alexis insisted. "We can't just sit here and wait, what if he's injured... or worse?" She paced the kitchen restlessly, watching through the window as Dale and Rick stood just outside, trying to raise Daryl on the short-wave walkie.<p>

"It's too dark," Glenn said. "We don't even know where he went exactly, nobody _ever_ knew where he went to hunt. It was like... his world and nobody else was invited." He looked behind him as Kyle Davis appeared in the doorway, and Alexis swallowed whatever reply she had immediately.

"Do you think it's Merle?" Glenn asked her, and she shook her head.

"I don't know," she said. "And I'm not sure it even matters. He's not back yet, which means he ran into something out there. It'll be hours before the sun comes up..."

"It's impossible to search for one man in the woods, in the dark." Kyle spoke up. "Not with things the way they are now, anyway." Alexis threw him an angry look, but he returned it without flinching. The back door opened at that moment, and Rick came back inside.

"I'm sorry," he said to Alexis. "He's not answering. But these are short-range walkies, he may just have gone too far. We'll have to wait until morning to go and look for him."

"Grimes," Kyle spoke up suddenly, leaning over the sink to look out the window into the backyard. "Get your man inside, now."

Rick hurried to the door to look out, then cursed and opened it as Dale hurried up the steps.

"Walkers in the orchard," he said. "It's too dark to see them until they're close."

"Let's get this door boarded up," Rick said, and opened the pantry to pull out the planks of wood they kept there for quick access. Kyle stepped forward to take them as he handed them out, and Glenn started down the hallway to warn the others. He was nearly knocked down as T-Dog suddenly burst into the room, and Alexis sensed a rush of activity in the living room beyond him.

"I hate to add more fun to the party," he said. "But there are walkers in the front yard. At least a dozen of them. They're coming right towards the house."

* * *

><p><strong>Lyrics:<strong> Catherine - _Stranger Danger_


	8. The Darkest Hour is Just Before Dawn

**A/N:** Thanks for your patience and reviews, loves! Here's part 2 of the massive beast of a chapter. Next chapter may take a couple days... work week starts tomorrow. :(

_What's so new about what you're saying?_  
><em>It's a new generation with the same sad song.<em>  
><em>What's so new about what you're saying?<em>  
><em>Just another generation with the same sad song.<em>

_The walking dead couldn't tell us any better._  
><em>It's a tale you gotta live to know.<em>  
><em>Yeah the story you're telling is from the book I wrote<em>  
><em>I've forgotten more then you'll ever know!<em>  
><em>'Cause at the end of the day when the hope fades away.<em>  
><em>It was an outlook you could never afford.<em>  
><em>You're on one last stand, with the boys and the band<em>  
><em>Before the demon strikes the final chord.<em>

_What's so new about what you're saying?_  
><em>It's a new generation with the same sad song.<em>  
><em>What's so new about what you're saying?<em>  
><em>Just another generation with the same sad song...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>The Darkest Hour is Just Before Dawn<strong>

"Get upstairs with the kids, and take this with you," Rick handed Lori his own revolver, fully loaded and safety off.

"Where the hell are they coming from?" Glenn ran to help Kyle hammer the boards in place over the back door, and Alexis followed T-Dog to the front door. The windows had been well covered when they arrived, and Rick wondered if the former occupants had held off walkers this way before.

"I don't know," he said, and took one smaller board to cover the window over the sink. "It doesn't make any sense, walkers don't travel in packs."

"Actually," said Kyle. "They do. But we can discuss that later." He left Glenn to hammer in the last nail and headed into the living room. Alexis and T-Dog had tipped over the table and used it to brace the door, but already the shuffling muffled thumps of walker feet could be heard on the porch. Andrea and Dale stood in the middle of the room, both holding rifles and looking worried.

"Something must have attracted them," said Dale. "They can't all be here by coincidence."

"Somebody put that fire out," Kyle pointed at the fireplace as he strode to the oversized duffel bag on the floor in the corner. "Noise attracts them, but the light might keep them."

"Who decided to put you in charge?" Alexis shot at him without bothering to turn from the window. Dale knelt in front of the fireplace and smothered the flames with the water kept in a nearby bucket, then closed the grate to stop smoke from pouring into the room.

"What noise?" Andrea frowned at Rick as he came into the room with Glenn, who was carrying two heavy wooden baseball bats from the pantry. "We haven't fired any shots since target practice last week, and nothing came of it!"

"Who's the best shot here?" Kyle ignored everyone's questions as he picked up the bag and set it down on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"She is," Rick nodded at Andrea and she blinked at him in surprise, then caught the weapon Kyle tossed to her.

"30-cal sniper rifle with infrared scope and silencer," he said, and handed her two spare magazines. "Safety's off, just flip this cover open to use the scope. Take a window upstairs and pick off the ones in the back yard, they've got no cover out there."

"I thought you said you didn't have any ammo," said Rick. Andrea looked at the weapon in her hands, then hurried up the stairs to find a window overlooking the back yard. Dale returned to the kitchen to watch the back door,

"I lied," said Kyle, and handed him another rifle with a silencer, but no scope. "Your boy is way too interested in firearms, my friend. 44 Desert Eagle with a built-in silencer for Miss Attitude. Don't let the kick break your wrist."

"Since when do military-issue weapons have silencers?" Alexis said bluntly, but accepted the weapon and holstered her own.

"Who the hell cares?" said T-Dog. "Got any more?"

"Sorry," Kyle shook his head. "Everything else makes big noises. Take a bat, I bet you hit hard."

"We hold them off," said Rick. "Let Andrea clear the back yard and we can make a run for the vehicles if we have to."

"If we end up shooting our way out, we can't come back here," Kyle said to Rick, moving up to Alexis' left to peek through the boards on the window. There were at least seven walkers on the porch, crowding and bumping into each other as they found resistance and could go no further. Several more could be seen in the yard, but with no light to speak of it was impossible to tell how many more were out there.

"It's a herd," Kyle said to himself.

"Shut up," Alexis hissed. "They can hear us through the damn windows."

"Right. Just keep them from getting through the front door," he called to Rick as he headed for the stairs, and caught the walkie-talkie Rick tossed to him. "I'm going to have a look from the front window upstairs."

"That's my room," said Alexis. "Don't touch anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it, princess."

* * *

><p>"Jesus Christ, Merle," Daryl could barely think as he stared in dumbfounded disbelief at his brother. They'd moved around behind the truck and Merle was sitting on the rear bumper, smoking his cigar and glaring at his brother. Daryl tried not to stare at his right arm, which ended at the wrist and was covered in what appeared to be a black stocking cap.<p>

"Have you been out here in the woods the whole damn time?" he demanded. "What the hell were you doin'? Why didn't you come back?"

"Come back?" Merle echoed. "Why the hell would I wanna do that? Those motherfuckers left me for _dead_, jus' in case nobody told you."

"No," Daryl said loudly. "They went _back_ for you, and so did I. Why didn't you wait for me? Didya really think I wouldn't come?"

"An' how long was I s'posed to fuckin' wait?" Merle bellowed. "If those fuckers didn't eat me first I'da burned to death under the goddamned sun waitin' for yer slow ass!"

"T-Dog chained the door shut," Daryl said angrily. "He made sure they wouldn't get to ya... theyd'a gone back even if I wasn't there. Goddammit, Merle... even _Lex_ tried to get to ya before we did!"

"Useless snatch," Merle scoffed. "I'm _glad_ she didn't get to me first! Why she couldn't just stay dead is beyond me... Hey! What the _fuck_ are you assclowns starin' at?" Daryl spun around to see all four of Merle's companions... or camp-mates... standing there, watching the brothers argue. Merle flicked his cigar to the ground and stood up, drawing a huge handgun from his belt and pointing it at all of them in turn.

"Jess, Duke, Marcus and Zeke," He named them all with each point of the gun. "Whoever took his fuckin' boots, you go an' git em right now. I told y'all to _bring_ 'im here, not bash his brains in an' steal his shit."

"We had a deal, Dixon," said Jess. She stood her ground and glared as the others backed off, and one turned to scurry away completely. "We brought 'im to ya, an he ain't hurt. When do we get our part?"

"When I _decide_ it's time," Merle growled, and leveled the gun at her face. "Until then, you keep your hole shut an stay away from 'im. Got it?" She glared at him, then leaned forward and spat on the ground.

"Marcus' got his boots. He needs new ones."

"I don' give a rat's ass," said Merle. "Bring 'em here. Marcus can go find 'is own."

"Who the hell are they?" Daryl asked as she turned and walked away. "What the fuck is going on up here, Merle? What deal did you make with 'em?"

"Aside from Zeke's machete, they ain't got no weapons," said Merle, sitting back down on the bumper with the gun in his lap. He watched the other four gathering around the fire again with narrowed eyes. "Yer crossbow's in the truck. You can have it after you hear me out."

"I'm listenin," Daryl scowled.

"I want that pig cop and that nigger bastard," Merle said simply. "Grimes and T-_Dawg_. I want 'em both, right here. Alive and able to understan' what I'm doin' to 'em when I kill em slowly. I don't give two shits about the rest. I jus' want them two."

"They went _back_ for you," Daryl repeated. "Don't that mean nothin'?"

"Nope," Merle stood up and faced his brother, stepping close until they were nose to nose. "I cut off _my own hand_ to get away, little brother. You got _any_ idea what it's like to saw through yer own skin and bone with a fuckin' dull saw? Do ya?" Daryl gritted his teeth but held his ground, looking right back at Merle and trying not to flinch.

"You don't," said Merle. "An' I hope to God that you never do. But _they_ will. They're gonna _know_ what it's like, an' I'm gonna be standin' there watchin' when it happens."

"What do you want from me?" Daryl asked quietly. "You want 'em, go git 'em. What do you need me for?" Merle stepped away, his eyes still on Daryl's and gleaming with a strange light that Daryl had seen before.

"You remember when those niggers busted you up and left you fer dead?" Merle's tone was conversational now, and he spoke as if they were just having a chat about the old days. "Course you remember. They beat you so bad, I thought they'd killed you. Who'd forget that? Remember what you said to me as soon as you could say anything at all? _Find those motherfuckers for me, brother. Find 'em and make 'em pay_. That's what you said. An' that's what I did. I did it 'cause my brother asked me. My own flesh and blood asked me for help."

"Jesus fuck, Merle," Daryl rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. _This can't be happening._

"Bring those motherfuckers to me, brother," Merle said. "Bring 'em to me so I can make 'em pay."

Merle gestured at Daryl with the gun, looking at something behind him. Daryl stepped aside and turned to see Marcus coming towards them with a pair of boots in his hand. He stopped far enough away so neither brother could reach him, and tossed the boots at Daryl. He stared at Daryl strangely as he bent to pick them up, his eyes gleaming with something he couldn't quite identify. He hurried away again when Merle coughed meaningfully at him, and Daryl sat down on a nearby fallen log to put them on.

"They're hungry," Merle said. "Stupid backwoods hicks, they're even more hillbilly than we are. I showed 'em how to catch rabbits with snares an' such. It ain't enough for 'em, though. They've had their eyes on you and yer buddies for a long time now. They were gonna hit y'all back at the campground an' take the chinaman. I told 'em if they ate chink they'd jus' be hungry again an hour later... I was hopin' they'd take the nigger so I could say hi to an old friend... an' then I saw yer girl in the woods, now that was shocker. I was sure she was dead..." He stopped talking when Daryl looked up from lacing up his boots to fix a wide-eyed, angry stare on him.

"That was you?" Daryl almost shouted. "You were in the woods, watchin' her like that? I was _right there_, Merle. You coulda said somethin, you coulda come to me any time you wanted to, but you just stalked us with your fuckin' creeper friends? Christ, they _eat_ _people_, Merle! What makes you think they won't kill _you?_"

"They ain't my friends," Merle said firmly. "But they won't kill me, 'cause I _brought_ 'em here. Like the bitch said, we made a deal."

"What did you do?" Daryl asked, a heavy dread creeping up into his chest. "What _deal_ did you make?"

"I promised 'em food," Merle said grimly. "They get the pig and the nigger when I'm done with them. I reckon they'll come lookin' for ya soon, won't they? Probably Lex, too. You bring 'em to me, and I'll make sure you and her get away safe. That's what you want, right? Keep her safe?"

"I ain't gonna help you feed these fuckin' mutants," Daryl snarled.

"Maybe you wanna rethink that," Merle said evenly. "You know, Zeke and Marcus really liked that little show y'all put on in the woods the other day. they came back here and talked about it all damn night. Glad to hear yer finally gettin' some pussy, brother, but I doubt you feel like sharin' it with a couple of horny fuckwits. Maybe I can convince them to keep their dicks in their pants if they get food... but I doubt ... whoa, easy now..." He stood up quick and held up the gun as Daryl started towards him with a menacing growl.

"I ain't gonna touch her, brother," he said. "Ain't even interested. But Zeke's taken quite a shine to her. He even sneaks down into the orchard to spy on 'er when she's outside. If I were you, I'd wanna get her as far away from him as I could. Got me?"

* * *

><p>Alexis could hear the muffled, sharp thumps of the sniper rifles at the front and back of the house as Kyle and Andrea made slow progress in clearing the front and back yards. She risked lifting the curtain to peek through the cracks of the boards and watch as one walker after another went down in a spray of black blood and dead brains. But Kyle couldn't shoot at those on the porch, and as more and more came into the yard the number on the porch was growing.<p>

"They're surrounding the RV," Kyle's voice crackled across the radio. "Front yard is full and there's more behind them."

"Less than a dozen in the back," Andrea reported, and Alexis heard a few more thumps from her rifle. "But if we can't get to the RV there's no point in even trying."

Alexis jumped back as the glass of the window right in front of her cracked with a loud snap, and the level of the walkers' moaning and snarling increased immediately.

"They're crowding against the windows," she whispered loudly at Rick. "The glass is going to break!" The window in front of her shattered even as she said the words, and the sound caught the attention of every walker in the front yard.

"Oh, shit," said Glenn. "Oh shit oh shit goddamn _shit!_" He backed up, holding the baseball bat ready as more walkers crowded onto the porch and against the front door. Alexis fired three quick shots through the broken window and T-Dog smashed the legs off a chair so they could use the flat wooden seat to cover the hole. More breaking glass could be heard from somewhere else in the house, and Rick looked around wildly.

"They're going to get in," he spoke into the walkie-talkie. The second living room window shattered as the walkers smelled living bodies within reach and started to move more aggressively. "Andrea, how is it out back?"

"The back yard's clear," she reported. "But they're still too close to the RV, and Daryl's truck is surrounded. Jesus, where are they all coming from?"

"Rick!" Glenn shouted, and swung the bat hard as a walker broke through one of the narrow windows along the sides of the front door. The bat slammed solidly into its head and it withdrew, only to be replaced by several reaching, grasping hands. Rick pushed him out of the way and fired several shots into the crowd. The front door started to creak, and Rick watched in horrified amazement as it started to separate from the hinges. Alexis cried out and T-Dog shouted as two walkers broke through the window they were covering with surprising strength. She dropped them both with clean head shots, but more crowded in, using the bodies of the fallen ones to push through further.

"Get upstairs!" Rick shouted, and grabbed hold of Glenn's shirt to yank him towards the stairs. "Dale! Lex, upstairs now!"

Dale came running from the kitchen, and T-Dog dashed across the room to pick up Kyle's duffel bag from the table. The windows practically exploded inward as he ran for the stairs, pushing Alexis ahead of him.

"We'll be trapped up here," Alexis shouted, but couldn't righteously argue as she glances back in time to see walkers breaking through the front door and climbing through the broken windows.

"Back bedroom," Rick ordered, and Kyle ran to join them from the front bedroom. He was the last one in, and T-Dog pushed a heavy antique dresser against the door after he'd slammed it shut. Andrea was at one of the two windows, peering through the scope of the rifle and Kyle pushed past everyone to do the same.

"You guys all right?" Alexis asked Carol, who was huddled on the floor with Sophie and Carl on the far side of the room. Lori knelt next them, Rick's gun held in one hand. Carol nodded at Alexis quickly, but none of them could hide the stark terror from their faces.

"Are they in the house?" Sophie asked. "Are they inside?"

"Shh," Carol said. "It's okay, they won't get in here."

"We have to get to the RV," Rick moved over to the window. "What about the other vehicles?"

"We can't leave without Daryl," said Alexis.

"There are only a few close to the RV," said Kyle. His voice had an edge of excitement, almost as if he was enjoying himself. "The Jeep is on the other side, I can't see it. The Explorer is clear. That pickup truck is swarmed, though. We'll have to leave it. _Damn,_ there must be hundreds of them!"

Rick tapped Andrea on the shoulder and she backed out of the window so he could lean out and look down. The tiny back porch had a small overhang, barely wide enough for one person to stand on. But it looked to be an easy climb or jump down from there, and the RV was only a few yards away.

"We can make it," Rick said as he pulled his head in. "I'll go first, clear the way and you cover me. Andrea can help with the cover, and everyone goes down that roof one at a time." Kyle nodded, and they both looked at Andrea.

"Okay," she said, her voice breathless.

"We can't go without Daryl," Alexis said again.

"We grabbed a bag from everyone's room," said Lori, and suddenly everyone but Alexis was moving around the room, gathering up their personals, checking ammunition and preparing to go out the window. She looked around and saw both hers and Daryl's backpacks sitting on the floor.

"They're at the door," Glenn suddenly announced, and Alexis turned to cover it with the .44 held in both hands.

"Glenn, after I go, you're next. I need you to get to the RV and unlock the back door," Rick said.

"I've got three grenades in that bag," said Kyle. "We can use them for a diversion if we have to."

"Stop!" Alexis said louder, and everyone paused to look at her. "What about Daryl? We can't just leave him here!"

"Lex, we can't _stay_ here," said Rick. "We're overrun... if Daryl's out there, he might be safer than we are in here." The door thudded dully as if to emphasize his point, and Sophie started to cry in terror as the walkers' snarling reached their ears.

"We can run to the woods," Alexis said stubbornly. "Find shelter until morning..." she knew it was a stupid idea even as she said it, but what made her even angrier was that Rick looked to Kyle before answering her.

"Alexis," said Kyle. "Maybe the reason he didn't come back is outside that door right now." She glared at him for a moment, then turned and picked up her pack from the floor, doing her best to hide the tears already burning in her eyes.

"Go now, Grimes," said Kyle, still watching Alexis as she gathered her gear.

Rick climbed out the window and walked two steps to the edge of the roof and looked down. There were no walkers in the immediate area, but he could see a few in the kitchen. The house was filling up with them, and soon they might be spilling out onto the back lawn. He carefully jumped down to the ground and edged around the side of the house, silenced rifle pointing the way. Walkers were still moving across the lawn, but only three lingered around the RV. He pulled back out of sight and waited until he heard the muffled _pop pop pop_ from Kyle's rifle up above, and when he looked back all three were down. He turned and waved up at Glenn, who was already out on the rooftop.

"All clear," Rick whispered. "Go, we're covering you." He stepped forward and aimed the rifle at the walkers shambling around the front yard. Glenn slipped around him and ran towards the RV on silent feet.

* * *

><p>"You sonofabitch," Daryl hissed, and started pacing back and forth in fury. The four around the campfire were watching him now, and not making any pretense or attempt to hide it. He glared at them and clenched his fists, but they just stared right back. The one he guessed to be Zeke was tall and built like a brick shithouse. He grinned at Daryl and gave him a wink.<p>

"Any of those fuckers touch her, and I swear on this earth I will kill every one of them."

"Booyah," said Merle. "You help me get Grimes and the nigger and I'll help ya kill 'em just fer thinkin' about her. But I ain't gonna force you. Leave now if ya want, but I guarantee you won't make it back 'fore they catch up with ya."

Daryl gave him a narrow-eyed sideways glare, as he blew a series of smoke rings with a casual air that annoyed the shit out of him. He'd never really seen it before, but as Daryl looked into his brother's eyes, he saw for the first time the manipulative bastard he'd always been. Merle smirked as if guessing his brother's thoughts, and nodded at him with a small smile. _As long as we understand each other._

"All right," said Daryl. "What do I have to do to make you and your merry band of mutants go away?"

"Nothin' much," Merle shrugged. "Just wait here until mornin. They'll come lookin for you, and when they do you go out and meet them. Jus' tell 'em you have to show 'em something. They trust you, right?"

"Yeah," Daryl turned away from him. "Yeah, they trust me. How long 'till morning?"

"Just a couple hours. Sit down for a bit, brother."

"Stop callin' me that," Daryl turned around and glared at him. "I ain't doin' this for you, Merle. I'm doin' it for _her._ And I don't want to see you again after it's done."

"Whatever," Merle shrugged. He watched Daryl's face closely as he turned away and sat down on the branch again. His clothes were wet from the rain and he'd started to shiver in the cold as anger started to fade. Something was different about him, and the realization made something dark simmer deep down in Merle's gut. They'd gotten to him, all of them. The cop, nigger, the chink and that damned woman. He'd let them all get under his skin and now his priorities were skewered. _It just ain't right._

Suddenly the night sky lit up as if a bolt of fire had struck nearby, and a sharp explosion echoed through the woods around them. Duke, Marcus and Zeke immediately bolted from the campfire and disappeared into the trees.

"What the hell was that?" Merle shouted, but Jess only shrugged and shook her head.

"Came from the farmhouse," she said. Merle spun and looked for Daryl, but he was already gone from sight. The back of the truck was open, and Merle ran to it just in time to see Daryl climbing out over the driver's seat with his crossbow.

"Godammit!" he snarled as Daryl hit the ground running and followed the path the other three had taken into the woods.

"You stay here," Merle shouted at Jess. She gave him the finger and sat down at the campfire again as Merle hurried to catch up with Daryl. He could already hear shouting up ahead, but he couldn't tell exactly who was doing it. Finally he caught sight of two figures, standing around a third on the ground up ahead, and ran faster. Marcus was down, and Merle wasn't at all surprised to see the red feathers and shaft of a crossbow bolt sticking out of the back of his neck.

"Yer goddamned brother killed him," Duke seethed. "I'm gonna take his fuckin' head off when I catch him."

"Nah, you're not." Merle said, and shot Duke between the eyes. He spun around to do the same to Zeke, but he was already off and running through the woods before Duke even landed on the ground, away from the direction of the farmhouse. Merle considered chasing him, but then caught sight of Daryl skidding his way down a steep bank.

Ten minutes later, he caught up to him standing on the edge of the orchard and staring at the burning farmhouse. No less than fifty walkers were swarming around the house, most of them moving away from the inferno and on fire. Merle started in fascination as several walkers continued to shuffle away as they normally would, even though they were completely engulfed in flames.

"They blew the fuckin' house up," Merle observed. "Have to say, I didn't see that comin."

"Where'd all these damned walkers come from?" Daryl was winded from the run and his voice had an edge of panic, as well as fear. Merle almost hated him for that.

"How the fuck should I know?" He snarled. "I'm guessin' there were a lot more before they blew up the house!"

"I have to get in there," Daryl started forward, but Merle grabbed his shoulder.

"Hold it," he said. "Open your eyes, numbnuts. They're gone, _look._"

Daryl looked, and saw that the RV and Explorer were gone. He walked forward and skirted around the edge of the orchard to see further, and saw his pickup truck was now parked halfway inside the burning house, and also split in half. Some crazy asshole had driven it right up the front porch and then somehow blown it up, and with a full tank of gas it had made a hell of an explosion. Daryl glared at the burning house, then turned around and swung his fist as hard as he could towards Merle's face.

"You sum_bitch!_" he roared and Merle's head snapped back as Daryl's fist struck him hard in the jaw. He spun around and hooked his right arm around his neck, then twisted and threw him to the ground.

"I may have just saved yer life,_ idiot!_" he shouted back. "Now get your sorry ass up so we can follow them! You and me, we still have a deal!" He bent and yanked Daryl's crossbow out of his hand and turned away, heading towards the woods. Daryl scrambled to his feet and stood watching as the farmhouse's roof collapsed in on itself, and several more burning walkers stumbled out into the yard before the entire structure collapsed. The sun was just starting to peek over the treeline when he finally turned around and followed his brother into the woods.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Dropkick Murphys, _Walking Dead_


	9. Responsibility

**A/N:**Hello everyone! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I had to stop somewhere. Welcome new reviewers Aku15 and jasmin! Sami, Ashley, TragicCure ... not sure if I welcomed you before, but of course you _are_ welcome.

Special thanks to JoanieNobody, viktorskrumpet, "K," Lucy Freebird, FellowEarthGirl, ChaoticxTheoreticals, GingerGidget, Jac Danvers, xXBXx and AvidReaderWolf for always being right there to offer feedback! Twitter buds Tenderloin Baby, pitbullsrok, dragoness0420... love you guys. You too, Murph and Daniella, I know you're reading even when you don't review. :)

MUAH!

* * *

><p><em>Welcome to my nightmare<em>  
><em>I think you're gonna like it,<em>  
><em>I think you're gonna feel<em>  
><em>Like you belong,<em>  
><em>A nocturnal vacation,<em>  
><em>Unnecessary sedation,<em>  
><em>You want to feel at home<em>  
><em>Cause you belong,<em>  
><em>Welcome to my nightmare.<em>  
><em>Welcome to my breakdown.<em>  
><em>I hope I didn't scare you.<em>  
><em>That's just the way we are<em>  
><em>When we come down.<em>  
><em>We sweat, laugh and scream here,<em>  
><em>Cause life is just a dream here.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Responsibility<strong>

Glenn hesitated for a fraction of a heartbeat, then darted out into the darkness towards the hulking shape of the RV. His heart pounded so hard he was sure the walkers would hear it, and his racing pulse made him feel lightheaded. But with the surge of anxiety came the adrenaline, both frightening and exciting at the same time. Glenn reached the RV and darted around the rear bumper, pausing there as Rick squeezed off several shots with the silenced sniper rifle soldier-boy had provided.

_Silenced sniper rifle. Am I really the only one who finds it odd that he has three of them? Even on an army base, do they just have sniper rifles with built-in silencers and infrared scopes just laying around?_

Glenn's thought processes didn't require him to stop and think. The running monologue in his head was ever-present and reliable, especially when he was doing things that placed him in mortal danger and got the adrenaline levels spiked. Like right now. He peeked around the end of the RV and looked straight up the driver's side.

It was a clear run to the driver's side door, and he took it without pausing to think about it. The plan was already laid out in his head, he was just following the map now. The steady drone of a mob of walkers was growing louder by the moment as more and more added themselves to the mix.

_I wonder what else he's got in that bag. Maybe a rocket launcher. That would be cool. I've always wanted to fire a rocket launcher._

As he opened the door as quietly as he could without squeaking the old hinges and climbed into the driver's side, he heard the tiniest of _thumps_ from somewhere behind him. He closed the door firmly, then turned completely around in the seat to stare into the empty RV. Seconds later, a walker bumped against the side of the RV and Glenn realized they were starting to surround the vehicle again.

"I'm in," he whispered into the short-wave walkie. "But it's getting busy out here. If I start the engine they'll swarm me, and nobody gets through."

"What's the status of the other vehicles?" Kyle's scratchy voice replied after a couple seconds. Glenn glanced at the Explorer, it was parked about six feet to the right side of the RV with a tree blocking one side and the Jeep behind, effectively blocking it in. Daryl's truck, on the other hand, was parked away from the others up along the edge of the lawn. It appeared completely surrounded, but as Glenn watched it seemed more like it was just in the path of the walkers as they came from wherever they were coming from.

"The Jeep's clear," Glenn reported. "Explorer's okay, but the Jeep will have to move first for it to get out. Daryl's truck is parked on the lawn, they're walking right around it."

"Copy that. Stand down for a moment."

"Stand down," Glenn shook his head at the military-speak and peered out the passenger side window at the house. The front door had collapsed inward under the sheer weight of the horde of walkers. There were too many to count, and Glenn could only stare at the overwhelming numbers. Even in Atlanta, he'd never seen so many moving in the same direction, it was almost as if they had a singular purpose...

"Glenn," Rick's voice came through the walkie, low and whispering. "Get that side door open as soon as Daryl's truck moves."

"Daryl's truck?" Glenn frowned. "What are you - oh my god..." He stopped and gaped in amazement as a shadowy figure moved stealthily along the far edge of the property, skirting the edge of the moving crowd of walkers and making its way towards the truck.

It could only be Davis by the dark military fatigues. Within moments he was up on the back of the truck and moving silently up onto the cab roof, then he jumped lightly onto the ground and slipped inside. Several walkers spotted him almost immediately and started forward, but the majority seemed completely confused and moved without focus. The ever-present noise of the snarling, moaning dead nearly drowned out the sound of the truck's engine starting, but when Davis leaned on the horn the sound split through the night and Glenn's mouth snapped shut as every walker head turned towards the noise. Davis slammed the truck into reverse and backed across the lawn, away from the RV, leaning hard on the horn as he went.

Glenn scrambled out of his seat and ran for the side door, then froze in place as at least a dozen walkers moved right past the RV to follow the truck. As soon as they were clear he shoved the door open and leaned outside. Already Lori and Carl were running towards him, and he could hear more silenced firing from the direction of the house.

"Come on!" Glenn waved frantically. He jumped outside and grabbed at Carl as the boy drew closer, and pushed him inside, Lori right behind him. Sophie was running towards him now, a look of absolute terror on her face. Glenn heard Carol shout as she realized her daughter had run out alone, and so did the nearest walkers. Sophie stopped short at the sight of three dead, blood-dripping faces leering at her, staring as if completely frozen. Then she began to scream, high-pitched and high.

Glenn started forward, but Dale was suddenly there. He scooped up the girl in his arms even as Carol reached them both. They piled inside, and Glenn followed them in and jumped into the driver's seat to start the engine. To the right, T-Dog was running for the Jeep, and Glenn couldn't suppress a smile as he realized the insane plan was working. He glanced in the mirror and saw Rick and Andrea moving forward as they fired at the walkers who were attracted to Sophie's screaming, making their way towards the Explorer.

"Badass," he grinned. The horn of Daryl's truck blared again, and Glenn watched as Davis plowed down the small wooden fence and spun the tires out onto the road, making as much noise as possible. He started the RV's engine, and Andrea ran right past him to jump into the Jeep with T-Dog. Glenn glanced back in the mirror again, and his smile faded as he saw Alexis still standing back by the corner of the house, looking back towards the distant woods with her backpack hanging loosely in her hand.

* * *

><p>"Lex, what the hell are you doing? Come on!" Rick was trying his best to shout quietly, if such a thing was possible, Alexis looked at him then back at the woods. He ran back to her as Glenn started the RV, and pushed her back into the shadow of the house. The sky was started to lighten, and the cover of night would be gone soon. Davis was literally doing donuts in the street, spinning the truck and slamming walkers with both ends.<p>

"I can't do it," she whisper-shouted back. "We can't just_ leave_ him, Rick!"

"Do you think I _want_ to leave him here?" Rick hissed back. "If I had even the slightest idea where he was I'd take that hillbilly truck and go get him myself. Come on, Lex... _think!_"

"I _am_ thinking," she slapped his hand off her shoulder angrily. "I'm thinking that if we drive away from here tonight without him, I will _never_ see him again! That may not mean much to you or anyone else here, but it sure as _hell_ means something to me!"

"I know," said Rick, glancing back at the RV. Emotions were running high, and he was torn between wanting to scream at her for being so stubborn and wanting to hug her for the look of absolute agony in her eyes. "I know that, Lex. I _know_ you care about him. But if we don't move now we'll _both_ die, and I know for a fact that he wouldn't want that to happen to you!"

"I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. But she took a step forward when he took hold of her arm and pulled.

"We need you," Rick said, and she turned away from the woods to face him. "You're just as much a part of our group as he is." Suddenly the sound of the pickup truck's engine roared behind them, and they both turned to see it barreling across the yard at an incredible speed.

"Oh, sh... RUN!" Rick shouted, and they both dashed forward towards the Explorer. The Jeep had already backed out of the driveway and was accelerating away from the house, and the RV followed as the truck continued at full speed right up the front steps and crashed halfway through the front doorway. Walker bodies flew in all directions, and Alexis gasped at the sight even as Rick pushed her into the Explorer through the driver's side and shoved her over so he could drive.

"Is he crazy?" she shouted. Rick slammed the Explorer into reverse and floored the gas pedal. He backed them out into the street and spun the wheel hard, then glanced back at the house.

"Get down!" He shouted suddenly, and all but flung himself on top of Alexis to flatten them both onto the seat. A sharp blast split through the pre-dawn air, followed by a huge fiery blast as the old blue and white pickup truck's gas tank ignited and exploded. Something slammed into the Explorer hard, and Alexis snapped her head up to see the top half a walker sliding down the windshield, leaving a dark bloody smear in its wake.

"He is crazy," Alexis said hoarsely. Rick let her up, and she jumped almost a foot off her seat as a hand suddenly appeared out of the dark outside and hauled the flailing half-walker off the hood. Davis rapped twice on her window, then trotted over to the rear passenger door and let himself in.

"Any casualties?" he asked, breathing hard as if he'd just run a mile, and Rick shook his head. They all looked at the house for a moment. It was completely engulfed in flames almost immediately, and Rick grimaced as walkers stumbled around, burning and dropping parts as they went. Up the road a bit Glenn honked the horn once and flashed taillights at them. Rick put the Explorer in gear and the small caravan started moving once again.

* * *

><p>"A herd," said Davis. "I've seen one before, but nowhere near as big."<p>

"What, like a herd of deer?" T-Dog echoed. "How can they do that? They don't even think."

They'd driven less than ten miles, pulled onto a side road and driven another ten before Lori demanded that Glenn stop the RV and let her out so she could make sure Rick and the others were all right. They had passed more walkers along the way, almost as if they were stragglers from the main crowd, and the events of the night were like the blurry remains of a nightmare by the time the sun came up.

Except it wasn't a nightmare, at least not one that Alexis could escape by waking up. She'd not been able to take her eyes off the sight of Daryl's pickup truck disappearing into the remains of the burning house, and fell into a heavy silence almost immediately. As the group gathered by the side of the road, everyone started peppering questions at Davis, as if he would have all of the answers. So far, he seemed to have an answer to everything, and that annoyed Alexis even further. She walked back towards the Explorer, eyes on the distant horizon and her thoughts only partially in the present moment.

"No," Kyle shook his head and accepted the bottle of water Carol handed him. "It's like... okay, say there's one walker by itself. Just walking along. Say it scuffs its foot on the ground, kicks a rock, steps on broken glass... it makes a noise somehow. The noise gets the attention of another walker, and now they're both walking together. They make more noise, and pick up a third, then a fourth. The more walkers you have, the more noise they make. And the more noise they make, the more walkers they attract. Maybe in the city it doesn't happen that way, because there's too many of them. But out here, where they're more isolated they don't hear anything but wind and birds so they're more responsive to sounds and smells, right?"

He paused as he realized everyone was staring at him as if he had three heads. Then Andrea and Rick exchanged a glance.

"Like gunshots," said Andrea. "Maybe they did hear us shooting."

"Maybe," Davis shrugged. "Or maybe that herd has been gathering itself for months and moving this way all along. Impossible to say."

He glanced over his shoulder at Alexis, who was pacing back and forth in front of the Explorer. She still carried the gun he'd given her, and it had crossed his mind that she might end up using it on him. But disarming her at this point was less likely to go over as well as pretending to trust her.

"You said you've seen one before," Carol spoke up. "Where?"

"Just South of Benning," he said. "But it was a lot smaller. I was able to avoid it, but when I went through the same area again a couple days later, it was bigger. I watched it for awhile from a distance. Weirdest thing I ever saw, and I don't mind telling you, scary. If a mob like that ever got into the thousands..." He glanced sideways at Sophie and stopped.

"Yeah, this is very educational," Alexis suddenly spoke up. "But since nobody else is bringing it up, I will. We left somebody behind, people."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable to say the least, and T-Dog frowned hard at the ground.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Glenn finally said. "Maybe he saw all the walkers and headed back into the woods."

"Maybe," said Alexis, but T-Dog shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "Not Daryl. He'd have charged in there crossbow first. Maybe he'd go back if he knew he was losing the battle, but ain't nothin' that would stop him from at least tryin to get back here." He met Alexis' eyes and she saw the unspoken part of his opinion there. She felt the tears threatening again and bit her lip hard as she turned away to pace some more.

"There were too many of them," Davis said cautiously. "Look, I don't know this guy, but I doubt anyone would be able to get through that many walkers on his own."

"No, you don't know him," said Alexis sharply. "But that was his truck you blew up, so if you ever get the chance to meet him I wouldn't advise mentioning it."

"We do know him," said Rick. "And he's got more outdoors' sense than all of us put together. If he's in the woods and in control, he's all right and I wouldn't be surprised if he found us first."

"What do you mean _in contro_l?" Dale frowned.

"If somebody overpowered him and took him, he's not all right." Rick said.

"I'm going back," said Alexis. "I'll walk if I have to, but I'm going."

"It'll be days before that herd disperses," Davis said flatly. "I tossed a grenade in the truck because I wanted to draw as many of them towards the place we were leaving."

"Very effective," said Alexis. "Except you obviously thought that nobody would care about our missing person."

"I never thought that," Davis said quietly.

"You can't go back alone," said Lori. "This is even worse than when you wanted to take Daryl back to Atlanta by yourself. You don't even know where to look."

"In the woods," Alexis said simply, and gave Lori a sad smile. "Where else would he be?"

She looked past Lori at Rick, who was scratching the back of his head and frowning at the ground the way he did when he was thinking hard. She knew what he was thinking. They'd left another Dixon behind, and Rick had moved heaven and earth to get to Merle, only to find he'd taken drastic action to free himself. But this time it was Daryl who was missing. And this time their numbers were a lot lower than they were back at the Atlanta campsite.

"This one isn't your responsibility," Alexis said. "You didn't handcuff him to a roof, Rick."

"Responsibility," said Rick. "Nobody's responsible. Everybody's responsible. It's not about responsibility anymore, it's about holding onto the last shreds of humanity we have."

"I'll go with you," said Davis. "We can take the Jeep and get out there quick enough." Alexis fixed him with such a cold stare that Rick almost pitied the man immediately.

"Why?" she demanded, and he shrugged.

"Because I blew up his truck. Maybe if he beats me to a pulp over it, it'll make you smile."

* * *

><p>Daryl and Merle arrived back at the small camp in the woods, fully prepared to be met by an enraged Jess hellbent on revenge for the death of her husband. What they didn't expect was to find her eating him. Or rather, preparing him to be their next meal with Zeke's help. Their numbers evened now, both parties stood glaring at each other across the stripped-down body of Duke, which was lying next to the campfire, contorted grotesquely in death. They had dragged Marcus back as well, and he was apparently up next. Finally Merle turned his head to the side and spat on the ground in an exact mockery of Jess and her unpleasant habit.<p>

"Make sure he don't get up again before yer done with 'im," he said to Zeke, gesturing to the machete he held in his hand. "We're leavin' tomorrow. I advise you both to keep yer distance tonight."

Daryl fingered the trigger on his crossbow as Merle headed towards his own corner of the campsite. Zeke caught his glare and returned it with a sly smirk and a wink, and it took every ounce of self control Daryl had not to put an arrow right through his face. He reminded himself that Alexis was out of his reach now, and the thought was only mildly comforting. Jess bent over the dead body with a long, thin knife in her hand, and Daryl turned away in disgust.

Merle watched the nonverbal exchange curiously, but said nothing as Daryl joined him again. He eyed the small campfire and glanced around, then looked up at the open back of the van. He'd discovered the motorcycle strapped to the wall in the back of the van when he climbed through it last night, but it hadn't occurred to him to ask how it got there.

"Nice of you to leave it behind for me, _brother_," Merle said. "Can't ride it no more anyway. Tents are a bitch to put up with one hand, too. That there is my home on wheels. It's dry and I can lock the doors to keep those fuckwits out at night."

"You were at the hotel?" Daryl frowned. "You followed us from Atlanta?"

"Yep," Merle nodded, and hoisted himself up onto the rear tailgate. He leaned back and reached for a battered, dirty pack, pulled it towards himself and started fishing inside as he spoke. "Officer Friendly was kind enough to leave a note. Looks like all hell broke loose before y'all left. Walkers?"

Daryl nodded automatically, feeling a strange sort of numbness start to distance him from reality. He realized he was standing in the woods having a conversation with the brother he'd given up for dead. He turned and looked back in the direction of the house as Merle rambled on about getting lost on the way to the CDC. Daryl had accepted the loss of his brother and moved on, settling into a different sort of life that consisted of being around a small group of people that he didn't completely hate, and who didn't hate him in return. He'd been falling asleep with a beautiful woman in his bed every night, and waking up to find her still there the next day. She listened when he talked. Really_ listened_, and it didn't even seem odd to want to talk anymore. _When did that happen?_ She came to him when she was afraid, or sad or otherwise needed company. Eight year old Carl looked up to him. The cop's kid looked up to him more than his own father. Lori even made attempts at conversation, although she was forever awkward around him after the Shane incident. Carol always had a smile for him, and T-Dog stopped calling him _cracka._ Dale called him _son_ on occasion, and Andrea didn't wrinkle her nose in disgust whenever she saw him anymore...

"They left you behind," Merle's voice broke through Daryl's hazy thought process, and he turned to glare at him. Merle was holding a can of baked beans in his hand, and another sat on his lap. "They left you for dead, just like they left me. They ain't comin' back for you. Open this, willya?"

_Why not?_ Daryl thought. _They came back for your sorry ass..._ Merle was holding out the can of beans, watching his face and waiting for a reaction. But all he saw was the same old blank, hard mask Daryl had worn for years as he snatched the can from his hands and pulled at the ring to open it.

"So why not leave now," he said. "Ain't no reason for us to hang around here, unless you want to watch those two eat their friends." He kept his back turned and let Merle do the watching, since it didn't seem to bother him.

"Too early," Merle yawned. "And I'm tired as shit. Let's eat and get some rest, we can go in a few hours. Don't fall asleep in the open though, get in the van and lock the doors if you get tired."

Daryl didn't think he'd be able to eat anything or sleep, especially after the distinct wet ripping sound of a large animal being gutted and butchered reached his ears. But this time it wasn't an animal. He handed Merle the open can and took the other, swallowing the nausea that had suddenly risen in his throat and thinking that he really _really_ wanted to kill those two sick fucks and leave before Lex came looking for him. _And she will. With or without help. She's the most stubborn damn woman I ever met in my life._

He forced the cold beans down, telling himself he had to keep up his strength. Sleep was something he absolutely would not do, and Merle seemed to accept that as understandable. Merle had no plans to actually sleep, but seemed determined to sit and wait for at least a couple hours, despite the fact that the two cannibals were now roasting something Daryl didn't want to look at on a spit over the fire. The smell of the meat roasting threatened to make him gag, but he kept his face neutral and stared into the woods.

_Stay away,_ he implored Lex silently. _ Don't look back._ _Just keep going. _

* * *

><p>"Keep going," said Alexis, turning the map Glenn had given her sideways and frowning at the lines he'd drawn on it. Kyle Davis was driving the Jeep and occasionally frowning sideways at her as she studied the map.<p>

"Do you even know how to read that?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I don't read. About two miles up there should be a left turn and there's an access road about half a mile down. If Glenn was right, that should run up into the woods behind the farmhouse."

"And if he wasn't right?"

"We go back and I'll shoot him."

"You're a little scary."

"No, I'm pissed off."

Kyle turned his face away so she wouldn't see him smile. He figured that it would send her into another rage that might end with her actually pulling the trigger this time. He spotted the turnoff up ahead and slowed the Jeep down to make the sharp turn. The road immediately turned to mud, and with the recent cold snap the mud was on the edge of being frozen, making the ruts deep and rock hard.

"So," he said, pausing to grit his teeth as the Jeep hit a deep rut so he wouldn't bite his tongue off. "You and this... Daryl? You've been together long?"

"Look," she sighed. "I'm sorry I put a gun to your head yesterday. You seem like a decent person so far. But I am really not in the mood for small talk right now."

"Fine," he said. "I just wanted to know if you love him. Because if you do, it means you'll risk the lives of your companions for him, maybe even your own life. So, just so we both know where we stand, do you love him?" He waited a full minute for her to answer before risking a look in her direction. She was looking out the window, her face turned away. The second turn in the road appeared just ahead, and Kyle slowed down more as the road narrowed.

"Yes," she finally said, so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. "Yes I do, but I would never let anything happen to the others either."

"Fair enough," he said, then slowed abruptly as something caught his peripheral vision. "Wait... what's that?" he pulled the Jeep over, and they both leaned forward to look up through the windshield. A single line of smoke was rising from the top of a steep, thickly wooded hill. Alexis got out and hurried to the front of the Jeep, and Kyle followed with binoculars.

"Campfire," she said, and he heard her breath catch as he scanned the area around them through the binoculars. Glenn had been right, the access road had taken them around behind the farmhouse and up into the wooded area where Daryl had most likely been hunting.

"I can see the house," he said. "Or what's left of it. So what do we do, boss?"

"Find out who made that campfire," she said. "I can't be this lucky, but there's nowhere else to start."

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Alice Cooper, _Welcome to My Nightmare._


	10. Lost

**A/N: **Thank you for your reviews, everyone.

**pitbullsrok** - sorry about that. You probably shouldn't eat anything while you read this chapter, either.

Welcome new reviewer **rocknroll136**... I'm flattered that you chose my little atrocity for your first ever fanfic review. Glenn is a favorite of mine as well :) If they start looking for TWD writers again, you better believe I'll be pounding on their door. Until they have me arrested for trespassing, that is. As for the song lyrics, I'm not making any money off this, so why should they? :)

**Warning:** I have been sneezing my head off all day. _Literally_, all day. I've been writing and sneezing. It was quite amusing. I apologize if anything is lacking here, and promise to make up for it in future chapters.

* * *

><p><em>I've watched you change into a fly<em>  
><em>I looked away<em>  
><em>You were on fire<em>  
><em>I watched a change in you<em>  
><em>It's like you never had wings<em>  
><em>Now you feel so Alive<em>

_I've watched you change_  
><em>I took you home<em>  
><em>Set you on the glass<em>  
><em>I pulled off your wings<em>  
><em>Then I laughed<em>  
><em>I watched a change in you<em>  
><em>It's like you never had wings<em>  
><em>Now you feel so alive<em>

_I look at the cross_  
><em>Then I look away<em>  
><em>Give you the gun<em>  
><em>Blow me away<em>  
><em>I've watched a change in you<em>  
><em>It's like you never had wings<em>  
><em>Now you feel so Alive<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Lost<strong>

The access road narrowed even further, then less than a quarter mile up the hill it turned into little more than an animal trail and Kyle didn't dare attempt to go any further, even in four-wheel drive. Alexis half expected him to tell her they had to go back, but if he had any complaints he kept them to himself as they made their way on foot up the hill. The road had turned into a path, but as they went deeper into the woods the path vanished, and Alexis felt what little confidence she had starting to slip away.

"We're still going East," Kyle said quietly when she stopped once, completely confused and not sure if they should be going any further.

"That doesn't really help," she admitted, "Since I have no idea if we should be going East in the first place."

"He was probably following that deer trail," Kyle said, and she turned around to look at him with a frown.

"Deer trail? Where?"

"You're standing on it," Kyle said with a short laugh. "I thought you were following it."

"Okay," she sighed. "Look... I don't know if Daryl came this way and I don't have any idea how we'll get back. I was counting on finding him so _he_ could be in charge of the returning part."

"If he was hunting deer, he came this way," Kyle said firmly. "It's a straight shot back to the farmhouse from here, the most direct route he would take. Let's just do what you said, find that campfire. We'll worry about the rest later. Just... keep your gun out. These woods feel funny."

Alexis couldn't argue with that. Aside from the fact that the threat of walkers was a very real one after the previous night's events, the woods themselves were all but silent. More than once, she felt that same eerie back-of-the-neck tingle she'd felt back at the campsite when she'd been washing blood off in the stream. It was close to an hour before the top of the hill came into view, and the smoke that had prompted their decision to come this far had long since disappeared. But they were stopped short by the sight that lay just before them as they came out of a patch of trees and onto a short but steep slope.

A large patch of snow had been partially melted and stained red with what could only be the blood of a large animal... or a person. For a moment they both stood still, and Alexis took a long, deep breath as Kyle immediately started scanning the area, his finger tapping lightly on the trigger of his weapon. Finally Alexis stepped forward and knelt down as if a closer look might reveal the source of the bloodstain.

"It's a deer, right?" she said. "He bagged one right here. It has to be a deer..." she let her words drift off as Kyle silently pointed out the obvious marks of someone dragging something heavy and bleeding up the slope and into the woods. She let him take the lead as they followed the grisly trail, cold fingers gripping her heart all the way. He glanced back at her once just as they reached the top and held a gloved finger to his lips, then pointed into the trees ahead. She moved up to stand next to him, gun held in both hands and pointing at the ground. Just ahead she could see the remains of a camp, although it looked as if it had been very recently and very quickly abandoned. Whatever had been dragged up the hill had clearly been brought here. Kyle hesitated a moment longer, which prompted Alexis to move past him impatiently and walk straight out into the center of the campsite.

"Wait!" he hissed at her, but she ignored him as she headed straight for the smoldering remains of the fire in the center of the circular clearing. He fully expected something to charge out of the trees and attack her instantly, but nothing happened as she poked at the still-smoking coals with the toe of her boot. Only slightly relieved, he started to circle to the left cautiously, following what was left of the drag trail as best he could. Alexis moved right, noticing signs of human habitation as she went. A tent stake still in the ground, wood shavings, a few cigarette butts, empty cans with dried-up remnants of baked beans inside.

_Somebody was living here,_ she thought. _The same somebodies from the campground? Could Rick have been right about them following us? If Daryl came up this way and they weren't friendly... oh fuck Daryl... where are you?_

"Tire tracks over here," Kyle's voice floated across the deserted campsite to her. He didn't have to speak loudly for her to hear him, the silence of the surrounding woods seemed the perfect conduit for sound. "Oh, _Christ_."

"What is it?" she bent and picked up the thick stubbed remains of a cigar and looked at it for a moment before flicking it away and turning around to see where Kyle was.

"Just stay there a minute," Kyle was standing over a heavy tree branch, looking at something on the ground behind it. She frowned as he leaned over and prodded at something out of her sight with the muzzle of his weapon, then pulled back with an odd expression on his face.

"No, Alexis... stay there. Don't - " he sighed heavily as she ignored him yet again and hurried across the clearing to see what he'd found. She gripped her gun tightly in her hand as she came up next to him, then immediately dropped it and clapped both hands over her mouth.

The remains of at least two humans lay behind the log in a grotesque, twisted heap. Recognizable as human only by the partially-bare skulls, Alexis saw rib cages, spinal cords, severed limbs. Worse, the unfortunate souls had been gutted like animals, something she recognized from her own experience with the deer not long ago. Just beyond the pile of remains lay the discarded innards and organs that whoever had done the butchering considered to be undesirable. After almost a full minute she turned away, the images already burned into her memory. As she turned away she saw something else lying on the ground against the base of a nearby tree, something that disturbed her even more than the mess on the ground behind the log.

_No._

She heard her own breathing coming in rapid, shallow gasps and her vision started to blur and swim as she took a few steps forward. She was vaguely aware of someone taking hold of her arm and speaking in a low voice close to her ear, but the words were meaningless. She shook off the grip on her arm and dropped down onto her knees, then reached forward to gather Daryl's winter coat into both hands. She turned it over and stared blankly at the dark reddish-brown stains that stood out starkly against the olive-green of the material. A long tear ran down the length of it, as if whoever had been wearing it had been slashed with a large knife. She looked around wildly, desperately, as if there had to be some evidence that it wasn't his coat, or that he hadn't been wearing it when this happened. It wasn't until she spotted the crossbow, broken in half and laying on the ground just a few feet away that she started to scream.

* * *

><p>Merle Dixon turned and lifted the long-range binoculars to his eyes just as the sound of a woman crying out in loud, wordless shouts reached his ears. He focused in and recognized her immediately, Alexis kneeling on the ground with her back to him. Someone was with her, dressed in what appeared to be some kind of Special Forces uniform with all the insignia stripped off. Merle couldn't see either of their faces, but from the amount of noise she was making he was pretty sure they'd found everything. Merle smirked to himself in satisfaction. Women were so fuckin' predictable.<p>

"They here?" Zeke blundered up next to him and Merle sat back against a tree and handed him the binoculars so he could look for himself.

"She is, but they ain't with her," Merle said. "I figured she'd a brought at least one of 'em with her, but I'm guessin' that's the soldier y'all saw the other day."

"Yeah," Zeke said. "That's 'im. We takin' em now?"

"No," Merle glanced back in the direction of the campsite. Alexis was still screaming, although the pitch had changed from the initial fear-filled sound into something more primal. Merle listened for a moment and thought that he might feel sorry for her if he hadn't been counting on her to react exactly as she was. "Shit... she's gonna attract every walker in the area. He'll get 'er out of there. Daryl still makin' noise?"

"Yep," Zeke was still watching them. As if to emphasize his answer, a series of loud metallic thuds came from the direction of the truck, parked a short distance away. "He's really pissed off. Dumb fuck heard her screamin' an' thinks we done somethin' to her - " he grunted and dropped the binoculars as Merle's left fist slammed into his temple. He gathered a handful of Zeke's filthy shirt and pulled him up so they were nose to nose.

"That _dumb fuck_ is my brother, asshole," Merle growled. "Yer only alive right now 'cuz I ain't got enough hands to keep 'im in line myself. You so much as_ look_ at 'im the wrong way and I will _end_ you. Got me?" He shoved Zeke hard against a tree, snatched up the binoculars from the ground and headed back towards the truck. Even from a quarter mile away he could still hear Alexis howling like a banshee. She was screaming Daryl's name over and over again, and it sounded like Daryl was attempting to kick a hole in the wall of the truck to get out.

Once Merle had agreed to leave, it hadn't taken too long for Daryl to let his guard down. He'd climbed into the back of the truck at Merle's request to make sure the motorcycle was securely strapped into place. He hadn't noticed that the door between the cab and the back was securely closed and locked. Merle simply pulled down the rear door and locked it from the outside, trapping Daryl inside. _Pissed off_ was a very mild description of Daryl's initial reaction. Once the door was closed, he'd simply driven the truck away with what could only be described as the Tasmanian Devil trapped in the back. He'd headed down the narrow access road and parked it in the spot he'd already scoped out as a cautionary vantage point not long ago, then walked back to the campsite secure in the knowledge that Daryl would not escape.

Zeke was dangerous because he was stupid and single-minded, but that also made him very easy to control. Merle had no doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to cut his throat while he slept, but as long as he kept dangling the carrot in front of him, the dumb bastard would follow and obey. An extra hand never hurt, especially since he was missing one of his own now. Eliminating Jess was the only thing Merle had been unsure about. In the end, he decided she served no purpose to him whatsoever and it was surprisingly easy to get Zeke to agree. Merle had cut her throat himself then made Zeke drag her body around to make a trail before dumping her in a shallow grave in the woods. If she decided to get up again later, they'd be long gone and he didn't much care either way.

As Merle approached the truck now, he almost laughed out loud as he saw a portion of the heavy roll-down door was actually starting to separate from the track under Daryl's repeated blows. He knocked hard on the side of the truck as he passed by, then hopped into the driver's seat and turned to look through the small window in the door. He had to snap his head back almost immediately as Daryl's hand shot through the small opening and made a grab for him.

"Hey, now!" Merle laughed. "Take it easy there, we'll be on the road soon!"

"You sonofabitch," Daryl snarled. "What the fuck did you do to her? Goddammit, Merle you open this fucking door right now or I swear I'll - "

"You'll what?" Merle snarled back. "Glare a hole in me? Shut up and listen, you stupid hick. We ain't done nothin' to her. She's hollerin' up a storm 'cuz she thinks yer dead."

"She _what?_" Daryl drew back so he could see Merle more clearly through the opening. "Why? What the hell are you doin?"

"I knew she was comin' back for ya," Merle smiled. "You were tryin' to get me to leave 'fore that happened, can't blame ya for that. But you and me, we have a deal. Remember? So now she thinks yer dead an' eaten by crazy hillbillies."

"And she'll stop lookin and go back to the others," Daryl interrupted. He saw Merle's plan immediately, and it infuriated him that his brother was even more observant than he'd realized.

"She'll lead us right to them," Merle finished. "You should be proud, brother. Nobody else would have come hikin' all the way up here lookin' for yer sorry ass. She even brought a new friend to meet ya." He turned away as Daryl just stared at him in mute frustration and confusion, then spotted Zeke hurrying towards the truck in the passenger side mirror.

"Look at it this way," Merle suggested. "When we do catch up to them, she'll be so damn glad to see ya she'll forgive anything, won't she?" He could see the dilemma Daryl was wrestling with, and already knew what he would decide, so he simply leaned over to unlock the door and let Zeke in.

"They're leavin," Zeke reported. "She don't wanna, but he's draggin' her out. There's walkers in the woods, comin' up from the house now."

"They're parked on the west access road, then," Merle said, and glanced back into the rear of the truck. Daryl was no longer in sight, but judging from the silence he'd either accepted the situation or was going to just wait until he had the chance to kill one of them. Maybe both. He started the engine and smiled to himself as they started down the narrow road. It was going to work, he was sure of it. It would take Alexis and her soldier at least an hour to get to their vehicle and out onto any main roads, and by then they would have them in sight and be ready to follow.

* * *

><p>Kyle had imagined that the return trip to the Jeep would be easier, regardless of whether or not they'd found Daryl. It was all downhill and all they had to do was retrace their steps. But nothing ever seemed to work the way it should lately.<p>

Alexis was at first hysterical, then completely enraged and within moments simply inconsolable in her grief. Kyle did his best to show patience, if not compassion, but the sight of a walker shuffling uncertainly in their direction spurred him into action. He'd quickly shot it between the eyes then physically dragged Alexis to her feet then made the mistake of slapping her in the face to get her attention. He figured she was going to be completely unable to do anything but follow directions, so he simply picked up her gun and grabbed hold of her arm to drag back the way they'd come. She surprised him by yanking her arm free and slamming her fist right into his left cheekbone. If he hadn't moved at the last second, she'd likely have broken his nose. Then she ran back to grab the broken crossbow. She wrapped it in the bloodstained coat as she ran to catch up with him again and held the awkward bundle securely against her chest with one hand, leaving the other free to keep her balance as they alternately ran and skidded down the steep slope.

It had taken them an hour to make the climb up, but running downhill cut their return time in half easily. Alexis' screaming had attracted walkers, although the continuing cold snap was helping to slow them down. But still they came, and as Kyle and Alexis hurriedly slammed the doors of the Jeep behind them, he could not help noticing that a few of them were actually still smoldering from the house inferno the night before. It made him think about the scene they had just left, and he glanced at Alexis, realizing that she was probably now trying to deal with the fact that her - _boyfriend? husband?_ - had probably been cooked and eaten by cannibals. Having buried his own wife, he understood that loss... but he wasn't sure how he might cope with the reality if she had actually been _eaten._

"Alexis," he began as he started the engine, but she held up a hand immediately and turned her face away from him, effectively cutting off the conversation before it even started. She was still holding the bloody coat and crossbow against her chest.

"Just get me back to the others, please," she said hoarsely. Kyle reached behind her seat and picked up the short-wave walkie talkie, dropping it in his lap as he put the Jeep in gear and started to back out onto the road.

* * *

><p>Daryl sat on the floor of the bouncing truck, not caring that his head thumped against the wall every time they hit a rut or pothole. He felt like he was still dreaming, a long never-ending nightmare that he couldn't wake from no matter how he tried. When he'd heard her screaming, he'd known immediately that it was her. The worst possibilities had occurred to him first... Alexis facing cannibals alone, Alexis in the hands of Zeke, Alexis being chased and killed by walkers... it hadn't occurred to him once that she'd been making that much noise not because she was injured or dying, but simply because she had somehow been tricked into believing <em>he<em> was dead.

The moment Zeke had climbed into the truck with Merle, Daryl understood exactly what was going on. Merle was using him just as he was using Daryl. The only difference was that Zeke didn't know it, or maybe he just didn't give a damn. Alexis was the real key to Merle's twisted plan and the realization made Daryl want to scream. She was the key, and Zeke was the threat. Merle was counting on his brother's feelings for her to both keep him in line and to guarantee he did his part to help when the time came. Eventually they'd let him out of the truck, and he could escape without much effort if he wanted to. But on foot he had no hope of getting back to the others before them, if at all. He had no choice but to ride along if he had any hope of being there to protect her when it all went down.

Merle had promised not to harm her, but any trust that might have still existed between the brothers had vanished the moment Daryl heard Alexis desperately shouting his name from a distance. Zeke would be dead soon. That was a_ fact_ now that Daryl had made the silent vow. He sat there banging his head against the wall every few moments, letting his thoughts drift to a darker place he'd not visited in a long time, but then the crackling sound of radio static came from the front cab and he slid closer to listen.

_"Lex? You there? I can just barely hear you... where are you guys? Did you find him?"_

Daryl recognized Glenn's voice immediately, and banged his head against the wall again just a little harder as he remembered the short wave walkie-talkie Alexis had insisted he take with him. They were still within range, which meant they were close enough that Merle might find them soon.

_"She's here. We're just coming off the access road now," c_ame an unfamiliar voice. It was a male voice, and Daryl was now even more concerned. Who the hell was that?

_"Put Lex on,"_ Glenn insisted, and Daryl thought he heard an edge to the demand, as if Glenn didn't fully trust the other party.

_"She doesn't want to talk,"_ the stranger began, but the distinct sound of a scuffle could be heard and Daryl imagined that she had grabbed it away from him.

_"Glenn,"_ her voice came across the radiowaves clear as day, and Daryl could already hear the flatness of her tone. He leaned his head back and waited as a long silence filled the air, broken only by the occasional crackle of static. When she finally spoke again, Daryl could hear the sound of defeat in her voice. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

_"They killed him, Glenn. They killed Daryl. We were too late... I've lost him." _

Another long silence followed, then the stranger's voice took over again and asked where they were. When the reply came, it was Rick himself who answered, and he gave their exact location right down to the closest mile marker. Merle laughed out loud and said something to Zeke that Daryl couldn't hear, but the sound of their laughter only served to bring up an old emotion he'd hoped might be gone.

He felt the old familiar heat of pure rage building up deep down inside again, and bit down hard on his lower lip in an effort to keep it from exploding. _Not now. Just hold it for awhile until it's time. It'll be time soon._

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Deftones,_ Change (In the House of Flies)_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own or hold any rights whatsoever to any of the Walking Dead characters, living, dead or undead. I also claim no rights to anything created by Robert Kirkman, or of the song lyrics anywhere in this story. Original storylines, OCs and any lyrics I mark as my own **are** mine, and I will think very bad thoughts about you if you steal them from me._


	11. Ultimatum

_I see a red door and I want it painted black_  
><em>No colors anymore I want them to turn black<em>  
><em>I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes<em>  
><em>I have to turn my head until my darkness goes<em>

_I see a line of cars and they're all painted black_  
><em>With flowers and my love, both never to come back<em>  
><em>I see people turn their heads and quickly look away<em>  
><em>Like a newborn baby it just happens everyday<em>

_No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue_  
><em>I could not foresee this thing happening to you<em>  
><em>If I look hard enough into the setting sun<em>  
><em>My love will laugh with me before the morning comes<em>

_I look inside myself and see my heart is black_  
><em>I see my red door and it has been painted black<em>  
><em>Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts<em>  
><em>It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black<em>

_I see a red door and I want it painted black_  
><em>No colors anymore I want them to turn black<em>  
><em>I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes<em>  
><em>I have to turn my head until my darkness goes<em>

_I wanna see it painted black, painted black_  
><em>Black as night, black as coal<em>  
><em>I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky<em>  
><em>I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black<em>  
><em>Yeah<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Ultimatum<strong>

"Mile marker 57," Merle said angrily. "Isn't that what he said? Highway 86 rest stop at mile marker 57?"

He turned around to glare at Zeke, who was leaning against the side of the truck and chewing on a thin piece of wood. Zeke only looked confused and shrugged, and Merle felt a sudden urge to shoot him. But he only had six shots left, so he decided that when it was time to kill Zeke, he'd just break his neck. He walked over to the mile marker sign as if a closer look might reveal a different number, but nothing changed as he drew closer. They were at the exact location Rick Grimes had given over the radio, but there was nothing to be found except for an old broken down sign leaning against a tree to alert passing tourists that they could pick blueberries here for $1.00.

"Sonofabitch," Merle muttered, and kicked at the sign angrily. It immediately flopped forward, and Merle noticed something on the other side. He bent and looked at it, then ripped it loose from the sign. It was a note, written on an old brown paper bag that had been flattened and taped to the sign with duct tape.

_"I see you,"_ it said.

Merle stared at the paper for a moment, then stepped back away from the sign and looked around carefully. The highway was not one of the main four-lane roads. The smaller, lesser-used route had only one lane in either direction and ran through a series of hills and heavily wooded areas. Plenty of places well-suited for someone who wanted to watch the road without being seen.

"Sneaky, wily bastard." Merle snarled.

* * *

><p>Rick Grimes lay flat on the top of the hill, trying to ignore the coldness of the ground as it seeped up into him and watching as Merle stood in confusion at the side of the road. He focused the binoculars in closer on him and realized he was talking to someone, or maybe himself. The familiar white truck was parked in a way that made it difficult to see if anyone else was standing on the other side.<p>

_Merle Dixon,_ he thought to himself. _He's been following us all along, and he's got help. Why couldn't it have just been a band of rogue cannibals? Weird mutants like those things in the movies that are too stupid to do anything but run in circles?  
><em>

It didn't make any sense. Rick still hadn't been able to wrap his brain around how a man could be driven to cannibalism, even when faced with starvation. He flat-out refused to believe Merle would sacrifice his own brother in that way, but that didn't change the possibility that his companions might have gotten to him first. Whatever had happened, the fact that Merle was standing there proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had the walkie-talkie Daryl had taken with him.

Rick watched as a second man came out from behind the truck and said something to Merle. Whatever he said prompted Merle to crumple up the note and throw it at him. The newcomer was tall and lanky, and Rick couldn't see much more than dirty clothes and shaggy hair. The fact that there appeared to be only two of them only confused the matter more. Daryl had reported finding tracks of five or more different people back at the campground, and Davis had seen at least three more recently. But here was Merle and one other man, bringing the grand total to two.

He watched as Merle shouted at the other man angrily and shoved him towards the truck. They both climbed in and after a few moments of sitting with the engine running, the truck pulled away slowly. It crawled along at only a couple miles per hour for a short distance, then The engine revved up and the truck moved away. Rick sighed and lowered the binoculars once it was clear the truck wasn't going to turn around. He'd sincerely hoped to see Daryl alive, at the very least so he could tell Lex that he hadn't met such a nasty end. Then again, he was somewhat glad that he hadn't seen him, because telling her that Daryl was alive and had left her to follow his brother would not have been any easier. He slid backwards down the small hill, still taking extreme precaution to not attract any unwanted attention, and made his way back to where he'd parked T-Dog's Explorer.

The rest of the group was waiting just a few miles away at the broken-down remains of an old sawmill, vehicles parked out of sight behind one of the buildings. The misdirection trick had been Kyle Davis' idea, and it had worked like a charm. For now at least. Rick had no illusions that Merle would just disappear forever, and as he drove the short distance to the old mill he watched the mirrors constantly. The sawmill was made up of one large main building, or it used to be a building perhaps a century before it became a structured fire hazard. Several smaller ones, little more than sheds, surrounded the area. They would make do for quick cover if necessary but that was about all.

Everyone was waiting anxiously for his return, particularly Lori and Carl. Rick spotted Shane's Jeep - _no, it's not Shane's anymore_ - parked somewhat haphazardly along the side of the drive just behind the RV. Davis was leaning against the back bumper, automatic weapon in hand as he watched Rick pull in. He nodded once at him but kept his attention focused on the road beyond. Lori was already hurrying forward as Rick shut off the engine and opened the door. For a moment she all but smothered him in a choking-tight embrace, and when she pulled away he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Did you find him? Was he there?" Carl was looking up at him hopefully even as Lori turned her face away. Rick looked around and saw that everyone was suddenly there. Dale stood on top of the RV in his customary watch stance, Andrea was below him and standing in front of the RV door next to Carol. Glenn appeared from around the back end of the RV with Sophie tagging along behind him. T-Dog was leaning on the front end of the Jeep now, although he hadn't been there when Rick arrived. All were looking at him expectantly, and he was momentarily struck by the fact that they had apparently hoped he would bring Daryl back with him.

"I'm sorry, Carl," he rested a hand on the boy's head. "I didn't find him. I'm afraid he's gone." Carl's face was a mask of stone, but he nodded and looked down at the ground with a frown.

"Where's Lex?" Rick asked Lori. She shook her head and gestured past the RV. Rick looked and for a moment could not see what Lori was pointing at, but then he caught sight of her sitting alone under a threadbare old tree not far away.

"She puked," said Carl, and Lori frowned at him. Carl looked almost ashamed and walked away.

"She was pretty sick," said Lori. "Sicker than I was if you can believe that. Carol sat with her for awhile, but she wanted to be alone. from what Kyle told us... my_ god_, Rick. Is this really happening? Did Daryl really get _eaten_ by... "

"I have no idea what happened," Rick interrupted her swiftly. "And standing here speculating isn't going to do anything but scare everyone even worse. We need to get moving, and I mean now. They headed North, which means we go South."

"They who?" asked T-Dog," although his expression said he already knew the answer. Rick took a breath and looked around at them all again before answering.

"It was Merle," he said. "Merle Dixon."

"Fine," said T-Dog. "Just next time you find yourself lookin' at him like that, do the world a favor and shoot him."

"No arguments there," Rick said to himself. He looked over to where Alexis was sitting with her back against the tree as everyone made their preparations to leave. There really weren't any, they had just been waiting for him and it was only a matter of folding up a few chairs. Glenn was walking towards her, presumably to tell her they were leaving.

"Her stuff's in the Jeep," Kyle said to Rick. "It's a bumpy ride, though. She should ride in the RV maybe, so she can sleep."

"We got this," T-Dog said in a low voice.

Kyle looked at him for a moment, then simply nodded and turned to haul Alexis' pack out of the back of the Jeep. By the time he turned around again, she was walking towards them with Glenn right behind her. She favored her right leg with a slight limp, and judging from the rips and muddy stains on her knees she'd fallen more than once and likely twisted something. She pushed Glenn away when he moved to help her, but her movements were not angry or harsh so he just walked beside her.

An eerie silence fell as she walked through the middle of the small area, and everyone made a point of not looking at her. Kyle was immediately struck by the stark whiteness of her face and the shadows under her red-rimmed eyes, but her jaw was set so hard he had to wonder if her teeth would break. He held up her pack as she drew closer, and she took it from him without a word or even a look. T-Dog opened the door for her, and she climbed into the back seat and lay down as he closed it behind her.

* * *

><p>Alexis didn't speak to anyone for four days. Nobody bothered her, aside from Carol who insisted that she eat something whenever they stopped for the night. She felt no anger or ill feelings towards any of them at all, but she felt as if every last remaining bit of energy or strength she possessed had literally been sucked away like the air from a leaking balloon. She slept in the Explorer when the others made camp at night, and it didn't occur to her to care where they were going or what the next plan was. It didn't seem to matter, the continued planning, hoping and searching. It all seemed to have the same ending one way or another. They'd eventually find another place that was <em>safe enough for now<em>... and then some disaster or another would strike, someone else would die, and they would be forced to move on again.

She stared out the window as they traveled during the day, watching the scenery blur past with absolutely no interest as she listened to the stream of subconscious despair floating through her own head. She hated herself for it. Hated herself because she couldn't stop the downward slide into self-pity and hopelessness, and not even sleep could bring any real measure of relief. Sleeping only meant she would have to wake up and face the cold reality that Daryl was gone, every morning. She found it easier to sleep only by pretending that none of this was real, and that when she did wake up, he'd be right there next to her, keeping her warm and making her world feel just a little bit safer, just as he always had.

_Always._ How did a few months turn into _always?_ It had been less than a year since she was driving from Boston to Atlanta with her head so full of her own ego that she couldn't see past her own nose. How did she get to be one of the lucky few to survive? Peter's death had shattered her world, until she realized that it wasn't just _her_ world that shattered. Nothing deflates the ego quite like an apocalypse, after all. But in the midst of harsh realities of a whole new variety, Daryl had been the one thing that remained constant, a rock that she could hold onto when the current threatened to sweep her away. So she'd built another little world around herself, a smaller one with people she would always want to have close by and never feel alone. But a smaller world with fewer people only meant the losses were more personal every time. _Why Peter? Why Daryl? The boys at Sunnydale... Guillermo, Miguel, Felipe... Why not me?  
><em>

On the fifth day the Explorer's left rear tire blew out, startling her out of a distant daydream that was already beginning to fade as she pushed herself up and looked out the window. T-Dog was cursing colorfully as he got out and slammed the door behind him, and Glenn sighed heavily, then jumped almost a foot off his seat when he saw Alexis sitting up in the back seat.

"Holy crap," he said. "I thought you were asleep." Before he'd finished speaking she had already opened the door and climbed out.

T-Dog was standing at the rear of the Explorer with Rick and as Alexis closed the door Kyle passed her as he hurried over to join them.

"That _was_ the spare," T-Dog was saying loudly. "I didn't think to stock up on tires before the apocalypse. Did you?"

"Guess we should have been checking the abandoned cars for tires as well as gas," Rick sighed.

"There's one on the back of the Jeep," Kyle suggested. "Let's just change it and get off this road, we're too close to town."

Alexis sensed an urgent push behind Kyle's tone, and as Rick hurried past her she realized everyone else did too. She looked around at immediate surroundings, then looked at Glenn quizzically as he came to stand beside her.

"We're just Southeast of Macon and Warner Robins," he said. "The area is at least as big as Atlanta, so there's sure to be walkers." He was just as nervous as the others, looking up and down the road constantly, even though Andrea had climbed up on top of the RV with Dale so they could both watch for trouble in both directions. Alexis realized she wasn't wearing a weapon and turned around to climb back into the Explorer before they lifted it on the jack. She found the police-issue belt and holster on the floor behind the driver's seat, but no gun anywhere.

"Um... Rick has your gun," Glenn said hesitantly. She turned around to look at him and closed the door again. "For safe keeping, I guess," he said, but she watched as he averted his eyes and understood the real reason. They were worried that she might blow her own head off. On a normal day, she'd have been offended by that. But it wasn't a normal day, and she wasn't sure if it ever would be again.

She stood back as Rick passed again, this time rolling the spare tire from the Jeep with him, and the Explorer moved behind her as T-Dog jacked it up. Glenn moved away, opening up the road map that always seemed to be in his hand, and Alexis followed him to look over his shoulder, even though she didn't have a reason to need to know where they were. She buckled the holster on as she walked, and Glenn glanced at her but made no comment. Alexis felt something tug at her sleeve, and glanced down to see Sophie standing next to her and studying her face cautiously.

"She kept asking about you," Glenn said. "She was worried that you were sick." Alexis forced a small smile at her and rested a hand on the girl's head as Glenn showed her the route they were taking. Her attention drifted away almost immediately until she heard him say _Texas. _Glenn noticed the shift as she looked back at the map suddenly.

"Kyle was heading that way when Rick met him," he explained. "We were talking about it last night. He's from East Texas, says there's an Army base there that might be worth checking out." She was looking past him now, watching as Kyle released the jack and the Explorer settled back onto he ground with the new tire in place.

"I was born in Texas," Sophie said. "Have you ever been there?" Alexis shook her head slightly, then abruptly walked away from them both. Glenn watched her go, then noticed the solemn expression on Sophie's face.

"She still isn't feeling well," he said.

"She's not sick, she's sad about Daryl," Sophie said. "I'm not _dumb_, you know."

* * *

><p>They spent that night in another rest stop, this one completely barren of tress or anything even remotely attractive to tourists. Ugly chain-link fence surrounded the area, which was the only thing that made it appealing at all. Nobody commented on the fact that Alexis had apparently decided to stop living in the Explorer and joined them around the small fire Kyle had built in the middle of the small grassy area. They had parked the three vehicles in an awkward triangle to act as shelter against the cold wind, but it did little more than the small fire to warm anyone to the point of comfort.<p>

Alexis sat in silence and imagined that her presence was making everyone uncomfortable, and after awhile she decided she didn't care. She felt nothing other than Daryl's absence anyway, and didn't feel that she should be responsible for making anyone else feel comfortable. She knew her inner bitch was in full control now, but seemed to be the only way to keep from falling apart. So she sat with her feet as close to the fire as she could get them without setting her soles on fire, and thought she'd never be warm again. Dale initiated conversation by asking Kyle about where he'd come from, and Alexis pretended to listen for a few moments before losing interest. She got up without so much as scuffling her feet and quietly left the area. Kyle stopped talking as she disappeared beyond the circle of firelight, and glanced at Rick. He'd given her gun back to her earlier, and both could see the same thought going through their minds.

"Oh for crying out loud," said Andrea. "She's not going to blow her brains out. It's just not her style."

"Her style?" Dale looked at her with a confused look. "We have _styles_ now? She hasn't said a word in days. Somebody should try to talk to her."

"Just let her be," said Carol quietly. "She's heartbroken, and nobody here can fix that. She'll talk when she has something to say."

Alexis didn't bother to alert anyone that she was still within full earshot as they discussed her state of mind. It didn't matter, and she supposed she could hardly blame them. But as she walked further away from the group towards the edge of the fenced-in area, where she'd spotted a beat up-looking wooden table and bench earlier. Almost immediately she sensed someone was following her. The kids were sleeping, at least they were supposed to be, so she guessed it was probably Glenn. Maybe Rick had sent him to follow her and see if she was going to do anything irrational. She was tempted to fire off a shot and see what happened, but she didn't like that evil side of her conscious thinking up mean tricks to play on her friends, so she took a deep breath and turned to face Glenn.

"Hi," said Kyle, and the words she had prepared for Glenn immediately drew back into her throat. "And yes, I am following you. Everyone else says you're not suicidal, but I just got here so I don't know for sure."

Alexis regarded him in silence, and after a moment he nodded as if her non-reaction was exactly what he expected. He sat down on the bench and dug around in the left breast pocket of his jacket for a moment before pulling out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes. Alexis watched as he lit one and took a long drag, then offered the pack and lighter to her by pushing them across the table towards her with one finger. He turned his head away and exhaled smoke, just in case his suspicions were incorrect and she wasn't a smoker. When he looked back, she was lighting one of them and he silently congratulated himself for not having lost his investigative touch.

Neither of them said anything as she sat down on the furthest part of the bench and leaned back to look up at the full moon overhead.

* * *

><p>Merle was snoring again. As if he'd ever <em>stopped<em> snoring, Daryl thought to himself. He'd actually snored louder than a chainsaw since their daddy broke his nose when he was 13. It annoyed him to no end that his brother was able to sleep so soundly, and it also signified that he suffered from no guilt whatsoever. After three days Merle had finally let Daryl out of the back of the truck to inform him that he'd lost track of Grimes & Company and had no idea where to look. Daryl had responded with laughter, and Merle had responded to the laughter with his fist.

It had been refreshing to let loose and do his best to pound Merle into a pulp, but even one-handed Merle proved to be an even dirtier fighter than Daryl in every possible way. In the end they'd called it a draw and made camp so they could sit in silence and nurse the wounds they'd inflicted on each other. Zeke grumbled about being hungry for a moment until Merle told him to go eat his own shit.

"I guess you'll leave soon as I fall asleep, then," Merle said at one point, and Daryl looked at him in disbelief. Did he have any grip left on reality at all?

"Why?" said Daryl. "So you can follow me like some creepy stalker again until I find Grimes for you? _Fuck you_, Merle. Fuck you right up your stupid hick _ass_." Zeke laughed as if he'd never heard anything so funny in his life, and Daryl glared at him.

"Fuck you, too you demented piece of shit. I'll cut yer throat while yer sleepin' if you even _look_ at me again!"

"_Demented?_" Now it was Merle's turn to laugh. "Damn, boy that there is a ten-dollar word! Guess that's what happens when you get yerself a nice piece of smart pussy - _ooof!_" Merle felt all the breath slammed out of him when Daryl hit him with the force and speed of a freight train. Zeke stood up and looked on nervously as the two wrestled for another moment, then Merle finally managed to get the advantage back by hooking a leg around Daryl's waist and flipping him over onto his back.

"Use yer brains, _boy,_" Merle snarled into Daryl's face. "She had yer_ balls_ in her pocket from the first time she got into yer truck back home! I knew it then, and I know it now." He gave Daryl's chest a shove just to push the breath out of him, then sat back and let him get up.

"Get the fuck outta here," Merle said to Zeke. "Go catch someone to eat, jerk off in the woods, whatever. Jus' get lost until morning."

"Faggots," Zeke snarled, but shuffled off anyway. Merle watched with a look of disgust on his face until Zeke was out of sight, then he turned to Daryl.

"You love her?" he asked him bluntly.

Daryl sat glaring at the ground, then spit out a bit of blood and wiped at his lower lip, but ignored the question. Merle reached over and shoved Daryl's shoulder. Daryl immediately swung back, but Merle caught hold of his wrist and Daryl heard a metallic click. He stared in shock as Merle snapped one side of a set of handcuffs around his wrist, then dragged him the short distance to the truck and snapped the other cuff around the undercarriage. Merle crouched down to look at Daryl as he yanked and snarled like an enraged badger stuck in a trap. Merle said nothing, only waited until he subsided and focused on Merle again."

"It ain't rocket science, kid. Jus' a simple question. Do. You. Love. Her."

"Yeah," Daryl finally said. "Yeah, I do." Merle sat back with a tiny, smug smile on his lips. Daryl hated that smile, it only showed itself when Merle had reached the highest level of asshole imaginable.

"Then think about this," said Merle. "You can do whatever you want. But when I catch up with Grimes an' his little band of happy travelers - and you can bet I _will _- she's gonna be there. And if you make my life any harder than it already is, I'm gonna cut pieces off her and feed them to Zeke while you watch." Daryl glared at Merle with death in his eyes, and Merle was almost proud to see the fire of Daryl's anger returning in full force again.

"You want her back an' all in one piece, I suggest you get yer head in the game and help me find them before I lose my patience an' do things the hard way," he finished.

An hour later he was asleep and snoring without a care in the world. Daryl sat on the ground with one hand cuffed to the undercarriage of the truck, his thoughts turning wildly as he fought to focus them into something singular and coherent. Zeke came back a couple hours later and spent a few minutes gloating over Daryl's helpless state, then joined Merle in blissful, mindless sleep soon afterwards.

Daryl finally felt his thoughts starting to slow down, and allowed them to shift to where they had wanted to be all along. He leaned back against the rear bumper of the truck to look up at the full moon overhead and made a silent vow, then swiftly stored it away in a place deep down inside, where it would never be lost.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Rolling Stones, _Paint it Black_


	12. Ghosts

**A/N:** Hey _y'all._Thanks for checking in! I published chapter 11 late at night night & literally fell asleep not even 10 minutes later, and the damn story leaked into my dreams. How weird is that? So I did what I always do the day after I publish. I woke up, made coffee and read it again. I don't think I am thrilled with that last one. But I'm leaving it alone because generally when I rethink something it comes out worse. So I'll just try to make up for it going forward.

**viktorskrumpet-**"rabid" is right! Geez, you guys! They've been separated for what... two chapters now? I love that everyone wants justice, but what happens if I decide to take the tragic ending route? I don't think I should even consider that. I might get bomb threats.

**JoanieNobody-** Sorry darling. You know I have to torture them to make them grow. It's all part of the process. :)

**ChaoticxTheoreticals -**I never thought of it as being constricted by the TV storyline, but I suppose you're right. I do like being able to go back and forth though. Maybe if the show manages to survive AMC's stupidity and go for Season 3, this thing might just keep on going with it. :)

**silverarrow82-**Welcome! Ask and you shall receive, although I can't say exactly when. :)

**AvidReaderWolf-**thank you so much. I promise there will be ass-kicking in great abundance.

**xXBXx, K** and **Alex** - thanks for reviewing!

I was thinking back to _The Coming Storm_ and remembering how I was determined not to just write another romance, regardless of how good I could possibly make it. Some of you might recall that I explained how my characters often get away from me and do their own thing as if they have lives of their own. Well, they've done that, and I have been happy with the results. So naturally, I have to do something nasty to them for a little while to see how they react. I'm a little concerned that I may have made Merle a little bit _too_despicable, though. Looks like he's getting away from me too. Oh, well. Let's see how it plays out.

Kidding aside, I don't publish anything here without giving it a lot of thought first. Sometimes too much thought. I have a plan, a destination and a final result ready to go that should take us through until Season 2 kicks off in October. Trust me. :)

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own or hold any rights whatsoever to any of the Walking Dead characters, living, dead or undead. I also claim no rights to anything created by Robert Kirkman, or of the song lyrics... oh, poop. You all know the drill by now._

* * *

><p><em>Darling stop confusing me <em>  
><em>With your wishful thinking, hopeful embraces<em>  
><em>Don't you understand?<em>  
><em>I have to go through this<em>  
><em>I belong to here <em>  
><em>Where no-one cares and no-one loves<em>  
><em>No light no air to live in<em>  
><em>A place called hate<em>  
><em>The city of fear<em>

_I play dead _  
><em>it stops the hurting<em>  
><em>I play dead<em>  
><em>and hurting stops<em>  
><em>It's sometimes just like sleeping<em>  
><em>curling up inside my private tortures<em>  
><em>I nestle into pain<em>  
><em>hug suffering, caress every ache<em>  
><em>I play dead<em>  
><em>it stops the hurting<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Ghosts<strong>

"He's gone," Merle blinked and glared up at the hideous face that hovered over him, thinking for a moment that it was a walker. It was worse, actually. Zeke. His breath stank like nothing he'd ever smelled before, and Merle immediately shoved him away with a snarl.

"Th' fuck you on about," he mumbled, and rubbed his eyes in an effort to focus.

"Yer brother," Zeke said. "He's gone. Look." Merle looked over at the truck, and sure enough Daryl was gone. He cursed and scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, and hurried over to the truck for a closer look. The handcuffs were still there, hooked onto the undercarriage of the truck, but hanging open. Daryl had somehow picked the lock and freed himself during the night, but Merle couldn't figure out how.

"Goddammit!" He shouted. "How long?"

"Dunno," Zeke shrugged. "He was gone when I woke up. He took my machete."

Merle automatically groped at the back of his own waist and found his gun was still there. Daryl hadn't been desperate enough to roll him for the gun, and he also hadn't taken the truck. Merle looked across the road at the woods there, and wondered if Daryl actually planned to hike on foot back to the group with only a machete to defend himself. He didn't doubt that he _could_ do it, but Daryl wasn't dumb enough to think he could outrun a truck. If they could figure out which direction he'd gone.

"Li'l bastard," Merle grumbled. "He musta known where they went all along. I swear when I catch that fucker, I'll - "

"Shut up, Merle," said a voice behind them, and both spun around in time to see Daryl toss three large dead rabbits onto the ground next to the small campfire that had not been there the night before. He carried Zeke's machete in one hand, and for a moment everyone stood back and watched each other.

"They went South," Daryl finally said quietly. "The plan was to head for the coast, where it's warmer." He watched as Zeke knelt down in front of him and picked up one of the rabbits, then pulled a knife out of his back pocket to start skinning it. Merle's eyes met Daryl's steadily for a moment, then they both looked down at Zeke.

"Ain't never been to the beach," Zeke said, and looked up at Daryl with a grin, as if they were suddenly long-lost pals.

_You ain't invited,_ Daryl thought to himself. Merle was still watching him closely with an expectant look in his eye, and Daryl saw his hand twitch as it drifted back towards the gun. He aimed the machete at the closest tree and stuck it there, then crouched down to stir up the fire as Zeke started gutting the rabbits.

* * *

><p><em>Merle Dixon. <em> Alexis sat very still, absorbing the words Rick Grimes had just said. He'd come looking for her at dawn, and appeared to have been up all night wrestling with what he wanted to say to her. Merle had the radio Daryl had taken with him into the woods. And since it wasn't likely that Daryl had just accidentally dropped it, it made him responsible for Daryl not coming back.

"There's no telling what's going through his head now," Rick said. "We don't know what he went through on that rooftop, and what he did to survive _does_ something to a man's mind. Something that can't be fixed. I regret it now. He was out of control, but I should have handled it differently. I should have tried harder, made sure he was with us when we left...it's my fault this happened. I'm sorry, Lex. So sorry."

Alexis listened to Rick as he confessed his guilt to her with an odd mixture of compassion and disgust. He seemed determined to carry the sins of the world on his own shoulders, and while she agreed he should share part of the responsibility for leaving those notes, she couldn't see that he was to blame for Merle being a complete douchebag.

"Stop," she whispered, and Rick looked at her in surprise. She looked back at him, and he saw tears standing in her eyes. She turned away before they fell and hurried to gather up her pack while the others broke camp.

_He'll keep following us._ _If I know just one thing about Merle Dixon, he doesn't forgive and forget. Rick took his hand. Merle won't stop until he takes his in return. An eye for an eye, a hand for a hand... or maybe he'll just kill him and feed him to his friends. When did he start hanging with cannibals? Is he one of them now? Are things really so desperate that the only source of food they had was each other? Is that what he did to Daryl? Daryl tried to stop him, or interfered somehow, and Merle killed him. I can't believe that. If Merle cared about anyone at all even for a moment in his life, it was Daryl. He raised him, protected him... no... Merle wouldn't do that to him. He couldn't. Could he?_

And so it went for a week. They drove South during the day and found places to camp off the road at night. They siphoned gas and spare parts from abandoned cars. They looted food when they could, and missed Daryl's hunting skills. They watched the rearview mirrors, jumped at shadows and avoided large towns as much as possible. Kyle helped Rick sharpen everyone's skills with firearms. Since possible threats now included the living as well as the dead, everything seemed more complicated and confusing as to where to draw the line, or if a line should even be drawn.

The traffic jams of abandoned vehicles grew thicker and harder to avoid whenever they drew close to any town with an average-or-higher population, and they found themselves having to take detours or turn back more and more the further South they went. Glenn found a complete road atlas at an empty gas station during one such detour, with maps much more detailed and up to date than the older ones he'd found in Atlanta. Alexis found herself spending more and more time looking over the maps with Glenn every night. His initial excitement over mapping routes and playing navigator had faded quite some time ago, and he now seemed to become easily overwhelmed with being the one responsible for getting the group from point A to point B as quickly as possible.

Carol and Sophie started riding with Kyle in the Jeep, and Alexis suspected the RV was becoming more and more claustrophobic for those who lived in it regularly. They'd left behind a sizeable portion of their camping supplies during their hasty retreat from the farmhouse, which made living on the road that much more difficult. At night Rick and Lori pitched their family tent for themselves and Carl, so at least they weren't all crammed into the RV when they slept. Carol and Sophie took the RV's only bedroom, while Dale, T-Dog and Andrea worked out revolving watch shifts so they could rotate sleeping schedules and share the small two-man tent between the three of them. Nobody ever saw Kyle sleep, but it was assumed that he napped in the Jeep or wherever was convenient when he wasn't taking a watch shift. Alexis continued to sleep in the back seat of the Explorer, and it didn't occur to her to complain when Glenn started sleeping in the front seat. He didn't bother to tell her that she talked in her sleep, sometimes cried.

Almost two weeks after the events at the farmhouse, they were well into Southeastern Georgia and making reasonable if not slow progress towards the coast. The group was split on exactly where to go at this point. they were aiming dangerously close to Fort Stewart, an Army base that Kyle insisted should be avoided at all costs since people had flocked towards it in desperate droves before being overcome by the mysterious plague. Savannah lay just beyond it, a city not as large as Atlanta or Macon, but heavily populated nonetheless.

They stopped just outside of Jessup and took refuge inside a small roadside diner-style restaurant which, surprisingly, did not appear to have been looted. A single walker dressed in the tattered remains of what may have once been a very expensive three-piece suit wandered aimlessly around behind the counter. T-Dog finished him off with a baseball bat, and Dale helped him drag it outside and as far away from the building as possible without a long walk back. The diner had four booths, a long counter with six stools, a tiny kitchen and an even tinier washroom that nobody even dared attempt to visit. The dry storage room in back yielded a small fortune of canned soup and dried pasta, and everyone was starving so they decided to splurge on a meal. The stove ran on gas, and after a quick check of the lines, Rick lit up the stove so they could heat water and cook food.

Alexis sat by herself at the counter, looking over Glenn's road atlas as she always did. Carol brought her a bowl of soup, which she ate without tasting. The discomfort the others had felt around her immediately following Daryl's loss had lessened, but she still rarely spoke to them and when she did it was generally when a nod or head shake wasn't sufficient to answer a direct question. She heard Andrea say that Christmas was less than a week away and wondered idly why she insisted on continuing to count days on the calendar anymore. She also wondered what would happen when they reached the coast, and couldn't seem to remember what exactly the goal was in getting there. She let her eyes wander over the map, not really looking for anything in particular. She started to turn the page when she realized she'd reached the South Carolina state line, when a familiar word caught her eye and she paused.

_Harmony._

She felt the counter move slightly as Glenn sat down beside her. She glanced over at him, then slid the atlas so it was between them.

"Where are we exactly?" she asked him quietly. He blinked at her in surprise, she hadn't initiated conversation with anyone since leaving the farmhouse. Then he looked down at the map for a moment and pointed out their location.

"Right about here," he said, and watched as she leaned closer and looked at something on the map, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was.

"How long do you think it will be before we get to the coast?" she asked.

"I don't know," Glenn frowned. "Depends on how clear the roads are, I guess. But it's not that far. Why?" Alexis frowned at the map, then rubbed her eyes and sighed.

"Nothing. I'm just ready to be done traveling," she said quietly. She pushed the atlas back to him and got up from her seat with a tired expression. Glenn watched as she walked over to the booth in the furthest corner, settled herself on the seat and pulled her knees up to her chest. Everything about her posture said _don't bother me_, and he knew nobody would. She was still there when full dark came, but only see her outline could be seen in the dim light of the single oil lantern that burned low on the counter.

As the others drifted to sleep or outside to take watch shifts, Glenn tiptoed over and found that she was asleep, leaning sideways with her head resting on her pack and her arms wrapped around her knees. It didn't look comfortable and he knew she's be stiff and miserable in the morning. But he didn't want to risk waking her since she rarely slept for more than a couple hours, so he slipped into the seat across the table from her and wadded up his jacket to use as a pillow.

When T-Dog him up the next morning, she was gone. Nobody had seen her leave, or even get up from the booth. It was like she'd become a ghost among them and when she slipped away in the dead of night not one person in their group took note of her departure, and it infused Glenn with anger, as well as his own share of guilt.

Searching the diner took all of ten minutes, it was just too small and there were no places she might have gone for a little privacy. Even less in the RV and she wasn't in the Explorer or anywhere in sight outside. Rick, T-Dog, Kyle and Glenn searched the surrounding area quickly, but turned up no sign of her at all. Just as they were returning, Andrea discovered the black three-ring binder that contained Jenner's notes from the CDC sitting on the driver's seat of the RV.

"She carried this with her everywhere," she said as Dale came forward and held out a hand for it. "Why would she leave it here?"

"Maybe she's not planning on coming back," Dale said, and thumbed through the binder to the end before closing it again. The others were all gathered around now, aside from Kyle who sat on the back of the Jeep just a short distance away.

"I saw you talking to her last night," Andrea said to Glenn. "What did she say?"

"She asked me to show her exactly where we were on the map," he replied. "And she said... oh _shit_. She said she was ready to be done traveling."

"Show me," Rick said, and handed Glenn the atlas. He flipped hurriedly until he found Georgia, then went forward a couple more pages, frowned and flipped back.

"The page is gone," he said. "It should be right here, look."

"She took the map with her," Rick put his hands on his hips and turned to look at the road. "That means she's going somewhere."

"But where?" Lori asked. "She's not from here, she doesn't know anyone but us aside from those boys at the nursing home in Atlanta."

"Do you have another map?" Dale asked, and Glenn nodded.

"Sure, but it's not as detailed. The smaller towns aren't marked."

"Jesus," said T-Dog, almost angrily. "Where the hell is she going on foot?"

"I think I know," Kyle spoke up, and everyone turned to look at him. "When we were driving up those back roads to look for Daryl, she told me her brother was killed by soldiers in a little town called Harmony. I saw it on the map yesterday. It's about a one-day drive on the highways from here. Maybe half a day's walk if she goes cross-country."

Rick stood where he was with his hands on his hips again, looking out at the road. Then he turned around and looked at Kyle, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.

"Her brother died months ago," said Carol. "Why would she go there now?"

"Because when he died, she didn't know he could still get up again, even if he wasn't bitten." said Rick heavily. "She's going back to find him, and put him down."

"Why would she do that alone?" Glenn demanded. "Any one of us would have gone with her!"

"We all would have," said Dale, still holding the black notebook in his hand. "Which is why she didn't ask anyone. I don't think she planned to come back."

* * *

><p><em>"Lex."<em>

The voice crackled through radio static, and Alexis hurried to turn it down, having forgotten that she'd left the walkie-talkie on when she left just before dawn. She'd headed out the back and across the dirt parking lot into the pine woods beyond, then come out just along along the outskirts of Jessup.

_"Lex, if you can hear me, please listen. You need to come back. It's not safe for you to be alone out there."_

She glanced down at the radio hooked on her belt as Rick's disembodied voice floated out of it and felt a very slight pang in her chest. She'd wrestled with the decision to go for only a short time and was sure her decision was the right one. But she'd still felt like she was doing something wrong when she slipped out without saying goodbye. But they would have stopped her if they knew, or at least made her take someone with her.

_"I don't know exactly what you're doing, but whatever it is you don't have to do it alone. Come back, and someone will go with you if there's something you need to do."_

Alexis turned the volume down a little more as she approached several cars that had collided and crashed into a telephone pole. She peered inside each one and watched the surrounding area closely for any signs of movement, but nothing jumped out at her or tried to grab her as she passed by.

_"Your brother's dead, Lex. He's been dead for months. Even if you find him, he's still gone."_

She slowed down and stopped walking with a frown, then took the walkie off her belt and stood there holding it. He'd figured out where she was going somehow. She pressed the _talk_ button, opened her mouth, then stopped and released it. She already had a few hours' head start on them, but now she worried that they might come after her. But this wasn't the rash act of a scared, helpless woman out in the middle of nowhere alone. This was her decision, and Rick could question it all he wanted, but she wasn't going to change her mind.

"Don't follow me," she finally said into the walkie. "This is my choice. Let me go, Rick."

_"You don't have to do it alone,"_ Rick said immediately.

"Keep the others safe," she said. "That's your responsibility. I have my own. Just let me go."

* * *

><p>Daryl chewed on his thumbnail as Rick said her name twice more, then after a long pause he heard the distinctive static <em>click<em> of a walkie-talkie being switched off. He'd been sitting on the back of the truck, watching as Merle and The Scumbag drained the last bit of gas from an upside-down car at the side of the road when the walkie in the front seat had suddenly started buzzing with static. He'd scrambled to grab it before they heard it, but they didn't even look his way so it did not appear that they had.

_"Your brother's dead, Lex. He's been dead for months. Even if you find him, he's still gone."_

"Jesus," Daryl groaned out loud as his tired brain put together what Rick was talking about. They were close. Close enough for Lex to somehow get it into her head to split from the group and go back to Harmony by herself. _Too close_. He and Merle both knew this area better than anyone else alive. What was she thinking? Did the others know where she was going? He couldn't remember if either of them had told anyone in the group about Harmony. They all knew what had happened, but did they know exactly where? They'd follow her if they knew, or at least Grimes would.

_"Just let me go_."

"No," Daryl said quietly. "You stubborn, stupid goddamned woman. What the _fuck_ are you doing?" He looked back out at Merle and Zeke, they were coming towards the truck now with two plastic 5-gallon jugs of fuel between them. Daryl turned off the walkie and stuffed it into the motorcycle's saddlebag, pushing it down as far as he could.

"Hey," Merle shouted. "Get your lazy ass over here and grab this thing. Just 'cause you been catching rabbits and squirrels for us don't mean yer too good to haul gas!"

"The hell it don't," Daryl shot back, but leaned down to take the gas can from Merle anyway. "If I don't feed The Scumbag he'll try to eat us, an' you know it. This one the spare?"

"Yeah," Merle leaned against the bumper and rested his left stumped arm on the floor of the truck while he wiped his face with a bandana. "It's only half full. Gas is gettin' harder to find. Hey, did you see that?"

Daryl looked at him, then leaned out of the back with one hand on the side to read the sign Merle was pointing at.

_Harmony, 7 miles_

"Yeah, I saw it." Daryl said. "So what?"

"So let's have a look-see," said Merle. "Mebbe the old gas station ain't been sucked dry yet. Nobody ever went to Harmony when ever'one was _alive_, why would they start now?"

"Because there's still nothin' to see," shrugged Daryl. "Sounds like a waste of time."

"It ain't far," said Merle, and Daryl instantly picked up on that too-casual tone he used when he thought he was being sneaky. "Might be a good place for weary travelers to spend the night off the road... especially if one of them's been there before. Don't ya think?"

"Sure," Daryl shrugged, and glanced at the saddlebag on the motorcycle. "Whatever."

* * *

><p>By mid-afternoon Alexis crossed over the Harmony town line, but found herself looking at completely unfamiliar territory. She'd come in from the Northern end of town, which put her in an area she'd never visited during the brief stay so many months ago. But she remembered that Daryl had led her and Peter through town by back streets on that last, fateful day, so she knew she likely wouldn't recognize the area anyway.<p>

She stood for a moment in the middle of the road, then fished the compass out of her pocket that she'd stolen from Kyle and muttered an apology to him as she pinpointed the direction she was facing. When she looked at the map, the thick woods leading to Big Rock, where she'd spent that first terrible night with the Dixon brothers lay on the east edge of town, so she turned in place until she was facing North and looked to her right. _Main Street._ Of course. Every small town in the country had a road running through it called Main Street.

She encountered two walkers almost immediately and shot both cleanly through the head with the silenced pistol, also stolen from Kyle. Two more lounged across the street, but she realized they weren't even taking notice of her unless she got close. The town was so quiet and isolated, there seemed to be nothing interesting for walkers. The few she saw were just standing, swaying in place or leaning against a building or car. Some were even sitting down, on sidewalks or in the middle of the road. But unless she got up close or made noise, they didn't seem to even know she was there.

_Weird. Are they weak from hunger? Is it possible for walkers to starve?_

It seemed that the ghosts of Harmony were the only silent witnesses as she passed through town. One more walker blundered into her path, almost accidentally, but she shot it cleanly without hesitating and stepped over it as it fell. She checked the magazine in her gun and found seven rounds left. She had one back-up magazine (stolen from Kyle), and after that it was down to the baseball bat sticking out of her backpack (stolen from Glenn). But if she found what she was looking for, she wouldn't need all that. She felt numb from head to toe, but also strangely relieved with her decision. She was sick of drifting around in this world like a ghost herself. She wanted to _do_ something about it, stop just existing for the sake of existing.

After walking about a quarter mile up the middle of Main Street, she spotted something familiar at last. The small one-building police station looked exactly as it had when she first saw it, aside from the fact that the glass doors were completely gone and the windows shattered. A half-eaten corpse lay in the parking lot, one that had been shot through the head at some point. Alexis gritted her teeth and stood still in front of the building for a moment, then took a breath and headed left, walking down the narrow service road that led to the back of the police station.

She recognized the area immediately. The paved rear parking lot was empty, and her eyes immediately went to the spot where she had knelt over Peter as he lay dying from gunshot so many months before.

_"He's not gonna make it," _

_"Peter, I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do!"_

_"Run. Run now."_

"I ran," she said out loud. "I did what you said, and I ran. I survived. But I'm so tired. I'm so tired, Peter... I can't run anymore."

She looked down at the place where he had fallen, and saw nothing to even suggest that someone had died there. No blood staining the ground, the weather would have long since washed it away. No scrap of clothing or anything at all left behind. If he'd been eaten by walkers, or animals... he'd been dragged away first. But if he'd gotten up and walked away... Alexis heard a scuff behind her, the sound made when a shoe or boot with a rubber sole scrapes against pavement. She stood still and listened, and heard nothing else moving. But she sensed very clearly that someone was standing behind her, and looking at her. _Walkers don't stalk._

"Hello, Merle." she said, and turned around to face him.

"Well," Merle chuckled. "You always were too smart for yer own good, weren't you? Where's yer friends?"

"I'm alone," she said. "Where are yours?"

"They're around," he smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Bjork, _Play Dead_


	13. In Perfect Harmony

**Edited 8/15/2011** - Fixed some horrendous grammatical errors and glaring inconsistencies. I also realized that I performed a magical hand swap on Merle. Somehow he regrew a right hand and lost his left. This is what happens when I write late at night._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** It's all right, **Anon.** I haven't killed anyone with anticipation yet. Care to leave a name so I can say hello next time?

I MUST say hello to** ISolemnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood** if for no other reason than because her name is Alexis. Wonderful! Glad you're enjoying it!

Also to newcomer **Oz-zone** - I did not know that Mr. Darabont was Hungarian and _Ferenc_ means Frank. That's _awesome,_ and so is your English. Thank you for reviewing.

Here you go, hungry little monsters... no cliffhangers tonight. Nothing serious anyway. :) Minor warning for a Pervert Alert, and some violence.

* * *

><p><em>I seem to recognize your face<em>  
><em>Haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place it<em>  
><em>Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name<em>  
><em>Lifetimes are catching up with me<em>  
><em>All these changes taking place, I wish I'd seen the place<em>  
><em>But no one's ever taken me<em>  
><em>Hearts and thoughts they fade,<em>  
><em>fade away<em>  
><em>Hearts and thoughts they fade<em>  
><em>fade away<em>

_I swear I recognize your breath_  
><em>Memories like fingerprints are slowly raising me,<em>  
><em>You wouldn't recall, for I'm not my former<em>  
><em>It's hard when you're stuck upon the shelf<em>  
><em>I changed by not changing at all, small town predicts my fate<em>  
><em>Perhaps that's what no one wants to see<em>  
><em>I just want to scream...hello...<em>  
><em>My god its been so long, never dreamed you'd return<em>  
><em>But now here you are, and here I am<em>  
><em>Hearts and thoughts they fade,<em>  
><em>fade away<em>  
><em>Hearts and thoughts they fade<em>  
><em>fade away...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>In Perfect Harmony<br>**

Alexis stood regarding Merle in silence for a few minutes. He was thinner than she remembered him, but she supposed she was too. Everyone was thinner these days. His leanness made him look even meaner, though. His smile was not one of mirth or happiness, either. While he had clearly once enjoyed flirting and teasing her in his own off-color way, she saw nothing but contempt and hatred behind that smile now. She glanced down at his right arm, which ended abruptly at the wrist as she knew it would. He was holding a gun in his left hand, pointed at the ground with his finger on the trigger.

"You come all this way to talk to a dead man?" Merle looked at the ground between them, then back up at her. He pointed the gun at her then, and gestured at the gun in her hand. She started to hand it to him, then paused and smiled when she realized he couldn't take it from her.

"Maybe," she said, and tossed the gun towards him so it landed at his feet. "Or maybe I was just hoping to run into you."

"Too late for _that_," Merle sneered. "You had yer chance. The pack, too."

"Why did you do it?" Alexis asked him quietly, then slipped her backpack off her shoulders and dropped it on the ground. "Why did you kill Daryl? He was your brother. He loved you more than anything else in this world. Just tell me _why._"

"Stupid bitch," Merle sneered. "I didn't kill him. _You_ did. You made him _weak_. You made him forget who he was an' where he came from. You made him forget what's _important_, you and your nigger-loving sumbitch friends!"

"He didn't forget anything," Alexis retorted. "He was _beside_ himself when he learned they'd left you behind. He went _back_ for you, they all did! But _you_ never came back, Merle! _You_ left him! He watched and waited for you. And now he's _dea_d because of you!"

"I _told_ ya I didn't kill him," said Merle. "All I wanna hear from your mouth is where Grimes is. I want him, and if I don't get him it'll be _you_ who pays for it."

"He was all I had," Alexis whispered. "He was everything to me, and _you took him away_."

"Shut up," snarled Merle. "Where's Grimes?"

"I'm right here," said a voice just behind Merle. Alexis let out a small gasp as Merle lunged towards her and hooked his right arm around her neck, then spun around and pulled her flat against him so she was between him and Rick Grimes' gun.

"Well well," Merle grinned and pressed the barrel of his gun against Alexis' left side.

"Dammit, Rick," she hissed. "I told you to stay away."

"I know," he said. "But I don't remember leaving you in charge."

Merle tightened his arm around her neck and poked her hard with the gun.

"First rule of hostage negotiations, officer? Drop the fuckin' gun."

"Rick," Alexis gasped as Merle shoved the gun into her ribs again. "I swear to god if you don't shoot this asshole I'm going to be very upset with you."

"Give me a break," said Rick. He lowered the gun, then tossed it aside with a sigh. "All right. You've got me. Now let her go."

Merle started backing away slowly, dragging Lex with him. She managed to get her hands up under his arm so he wasn't completely choking her, but his grip was like iron and she dared not try to hard. Yet. Suddenly she saw movement behind Rick as a tall, scraggly haired stranger stepped out of the woods behind him, carrying a long wicked-looking machete.

"Zeke," Merle called to the man. "Help the nice policeman with his handcuffs. Over here." He gestured at what appeared to be a metal bicycle rack at the far side of the parking lot, and Zeke bent to retrieve both Rick's and Alexis' guns from the ground. Rick held up both hands as Zeke shoved him in the back, and in seconds he was sitting on the ground with his right hand cuffed to the rack. His eyes met Alexis' for a moment, and he gave her a single, quick nod.

Merle seemed satisfied with the current situation and loosened his grip on Alexis. He slipped his arm around her waist instead of her neck and lowered the gun somewhat. She glanced sideways at his companion, more out of curiosity than anything else, and found him looking right at her with a decidedly ugly sneer on his face. He licked his lower lip as he stared at her, and she felt that old familiar _Pervert Alert_ chill run through her blood again.

"Let her go, Merle," said Rick again. "Come on, she's never done anything to you. She was your friend once, remember?"

"Friends," Merle chuckled and shook his head. "You are one sorry sonofabitch, you know that? But... you're right. She ain't never done nothin' to me. I ain't gonna hurt her. I promised Daryl I wouldn't, you know." He squeezed Alexis with his arm, the gesture almost friendly, and she frowned at his strange tone.

"But I didn't say nothin' about Zeke, either," he finished, and shoved Alexis straight into Zeke's arms. "Take her inside, fucknuts. I got no interest in seeing your diseased ass."

* * *

><p>"Merle!" Daryl shouted again, hearing his own voice starting to crack. He paced back and forth again, fuming at the irony of his present situation. He was looking at the inside of one of the three small jail cells in the Harmony police station. Last time he'd been here was to spring his brother from the very same cell, and now his brother had locked him up to keep him out of the way. <em>Mother. Fucker.<em>

Merle had spotted Lex walking into town as if she hadn't a care in the world. At first Daryl had been furious at the sight of her. She was walking right smack down the middle of main street as if she _wanted_ to be seen. Merle had almost given away their position on top of the town garage when he laughed out loud.

"God _damn_ if she aint the dumbest female I ever saw," he chortled. "Come on, let's go grab 'er before she gets wise."

"You said you wouldn't hurt her," Daryl reminded him. He glanced at Zeke, who was crouched low on Merle's other side and peeking over the edge at her. He was positively _leering_ at her, and Daryl had the sudden urge to push him over the edge.

"She'll be fine," said Merle dismissively. "The others can't be far away, we'll just hold onto her until they come. It'll give y'all a chance to catch up, right?" He slapped Daryl on the back, and Daryl immediately knew by the glint in his eye that things were about to go very wrong.

"She's goin' to the police station," Merle said. "I guarantee it. Bitches can't stay away from memories."

"All right," said Daryl. "Just let me get her, okay? If she sees you or Scumbag here, she might run. Let _me_ talk to her."

"Sure thing, brother," said Merle.

Ten minutes later they were inside the police station, picking through broken glass and the long-dried-up leftovers of dead deputies and soldiers. He had half a plan in his mind that involved simply putting himself between Zeke and Alexis mainly because he had no time to think up anything better. But anything he did was entirely dependent on getting to her first. He pushed past Zeke and headed towards the long hallway that led to the rear exit and the parking lot, then something happened very fast and he found himself flying through the air and landing hard on the floor of an empty cell. Something hit him hard in the head, and he gasped as his vision went dark and was replaced with stars.

"Sorry, little brother," said Merle as he slammed the door closed. "I figured that you weren't plannin' on runnin' off anytime soon. But what I wasn't sure of was if you were _with_ me or jus' headin' in the same direction." He bent down and picked up a ring of keys off the floor, then tossed them to Zeke.

"We'll be back," he said simply, and Daryl could only roll over and blink in confusion as Merle and Zeke headed out the back door. As soon as he could stand he started shouting, but the pain in his head made him stop and close his eyes until it passed. Zeke had clubbed him hard with something, but Daryl couldn't be bothered to dwell on what it might be. It was quiet outside. Too quiet. No gunshots, no shouting, no pissed-off Alexis making noise.

"God dammit, _Merle!_" Daryl shouted again, then snapped his head around as the back door opened with a bang and someone came inside.

"Get your _fucking_ hands off me!" a familiar voice shouted, and Daryl stared with his mouth hanging open as Zeke came up the hallway, dragging Alexis kicking and fighting him like a she-lion the whole way. Zeke was grinning and laughing as if he was having the most fun he'd ever had, and he laughed even harder at the expression on Daryl's face.

"Hey," he said. "Lookit what Merle gave me! I been wantin' one of these for a _long_ time, too!"

"Fuck _you!_" Alexis shouted. Zeke had a grip on her from behind, both arms wrapped around her in an attempt to pin her arms down. But she had one loose and was clawing backwards at his face. He laughed and captured it easily, then craned his head down to lick the side of her face. She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Zeke," said Daryl loudly, putting every ounce of hatred he could muster behind his words. "If you let her go _right now_, I promise to kill you quickly. You touch her again, and I will make it so slow and painful you'll _beg_ me to finish fast." Zeke raised his head and met his eyes, then grinned and deliberately moved both hands and clamped them firmly over Alexis' breasts.

_"Daryl,"_ Alexis whispered, and he tore his eyes away from Zeke's and looked at her.

* * *

><p>"I ain't got a saw," said Merle, and raised Daryl's hunting knife so Rick could see it. "So I guess this will have to do. It might actually even work better. Daryl took <em>real<em> good care of it."

Rick glanced behind him, at the door Zeke had gone through with Alexis. Once it had closed, he couldn't hear her shouting anymore and could only imagine what was happening. He looked around the parking lot and spotted Alexis' pack nearby, and her gun. Zeke had taken his six-shooter inside with him. Rick looked at the handcuffs securing him to the bicycle rack, then at Merle standing there in front of him with the knife in his hand.

"Things ain't exactly going as I planned," he said, and Merle laughed.

"Funny how that happens more often than we like," he said.

"Yeah," said Rick. "I was expecting you'd have at least three more with you. This will actually be much easier. Davis, _fire._" Merle frowned, then glanced at the radio on Rick's belt and noticed that the red light was on, indicating that Rick had been transmitting to someone nearby the whole time.

_"Shit!"_ he said, and dove to the side just as the first three shots were fired. He hit the ground and rolled, cursing himself for not checking the roof for snipers ahead of time. But of course there was no reason to check for snipers, _because there aren't_ _any fucking snipers in the Grimes happy family train!_ But up on the roof of a building right across the street was at least one person who defied that logic, taking shots at him with a silenced high-powered long-range sniper rifle.

"Did you bring the fuckin' CIA?" Merle bellowed at Rick. He lunged at him with the knife as soon as there was a lull in the gunfire, but suddenly more shots were hitting the ground near him, this time coming from a different direction. As if in answer to the noise, three walkers stumbled into view and made their way towards them both. One of them immediately dropped as the sharpshooter took aim and fired, but two more appeared on the other side of the building.

Merle weighed his options for a few brief moments. He could stay near Grimes with the knowledge that whoever was covering his ass would kill the walkers. Maybe if he surrendered they'd do the humane thing and just lock him up somewhere. Then he thought of Zeke inside, doing God only knew what to Alexis right in front of Daryl, and thought it wasn't likely he'd get humane treatment.

"This ain't over, you know," he said to Grimes.

"I see you again, you die," Rick said. "Stay away from my family, Dixon." Merle sneered at him, then turned and plunged into the cover of the trees, heading deeper into he woods until he was out of Rick's sight.

* * *

><p>Time seemed to have stopped inside Alexis' head, and for a split second she was aware of nothing other than the fact that Daryl was not only alive, but he was standing barely five feet away from her. His eyes were almost literally on fire and she couldn't tear her gaze away, almost forgetting what was happening. Then Zeke spoke in her ear and the Pervert Alert system went into high gear.<p>

"I saw you in the woods," he said, and she felt his hands on her, squeezing and pulling. "I saw what he did to you in the woods, and you liked it. You want me to do that to you? Maybe I'll even do it better."

"Oh god," she said "I'm gonna throw up." Zeke let go of her with one hand so he could grab at the front of her pants, and she took the opportunity to slam her head back against his nose hard. Daryl reached through the bars of the cell with both hands and grabbed hold of her as Zeke howled and she tore free. Alexis gasped as Daryl grabbed her shoulders roughly and pulled her towards him so she was pressing hard against the bars.

"The keys are in his pocket," he said in her ear. "Just get him over here so I can reach him." They both heard the distinctive click of a weapon preparing to fire, and Alexis turned to face Zeke. Daryl still had a hold of her shoulders through the bars, but there was nothing he could do as Zeke pointed Rick's gun at her, aiming right between her eyes.

"You broke my nose," he said, and wiped the blood away with one hand.

"Sorry," said Alexis lamely, unable to think of anything else to say. She heard her voice shaking and felt Daryl's fingers dig into her arm.

"Please," she said. "Please don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you want... just don't hurt him. Okay?"

"Turn around and put your hands up on the bars," said Zeke. Alexis nodded and gently pulled out of Daryl's grip, turning to face him through the bars. His eyes burned into hers again, and she saw his pupils dilate as if barely-controlled fury might leap right out and consume them all at any moment.

"You," said Zeke, and Daryl glanced up at him. "Back up." Daryl didn't move, and Zeke growled threateningly.

Alexis' fingers brushed over his as she laid her hands on the bars as instructed, and Daryl blinked twice before looking back to her again.

"I love you," she whispered. "Please do what he says."

Daryl backed away from the bars, his jaw set hard as stone and both hands clenched into fists. Zeke came forward and shoved Alexis hard up against the bars, keeping the gun pointed at Daryl with the other. Alexis kept her eyes fixed on Daryl's as Zeke groped at her with his free hand, pulling away her clothing with surprising skill. She bit her lip in an effort not to scream when he shoved his hand down between her legs, groping and pushing with clumsy, rough fingers until he found what he was looking for.

"My turn," he said in her ear. She heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and gripped the bars tightly. He kicked her legs further apart, then reached up to grab a handful of her hair, and she saw his hand holding the gun waver slightly as his concentration slipped.

Alexis whipped her head to the side and sank her teeth into the flesh of his upper arm. He screamed and squeezed off a shot reflexively, but Daryl was already moving forward and the shot hit the wall well over his head behind him. Zeke slapped at Alexis wildly as if she was a dog clamped onto his arm, and when she pulled loose she spit a chunk of his own flesh into his face. Daryl's arms shot through the bars and he grabbed hold of Zeke with both hands in his greasy hair.

"Down," Daryl growled, and Alexis dropped to the floor, grabbed hold of Zeke's ankle and yanked at it to throw him off balance. He fell forward against the bars and she crawled free as Daryl yanked Zeke's head forward against the bars, slamming his face against them again and again. A second shot fired, and Alexis realized in horror that Zeke was still holding the gun. He managed to partially twist free and pointed it at her, but Daryl spun him around and clamped an arm around his neck just as he managed to fire a third shot. Using the bars as leverage, Daryl slowly squeezed the life out of Zeke until a sickening if not satisfying _snap_ echoed through the room.

"Lex," Daryl practically choked her name out. Zeke dropped to the floor with a thud, his broken neck making his head jut at a strange angle. Daryl stretched and reached through the bars, but couldn't reach the keys in Zeke's pocket. He sensed rather than heard her moving cautiously nearby, and thought he heard her whisper a curse.

"Come on, Lex... help me. Merle could come in any minute." She was there in a heartbeat, pushing at her dead assailant until he rolled over and she could fish the keys out with shaking fingers. Daryl saw blood on her fingers and his heart leaped into his throat, but she stood up and fumbled at the keys, trying to fit the right one into the lock. She dropped them immediately and bent to pick them up, and when she tried to fit one of the keys in again, Daryl reached through the bars and put his hand over hers for a moment.

"It's okay," he said. "We'll be okay. Just - unlock the door, baby. Please."

The third key fit the lock perfectly, and once it was in Daryl put his hand over hers again and turned it himself. He pushed the door open and she practically fell forward into his arms. Both knew immediately that they smelled like unwashed humans and the room reeked of old death, burnt gunpowder and fresh blood, but right there at that moment, Alexis didn't want to move from this spot ever again. She buried her face in his neck and grabbed onto him with fingers digging into his skin right through his clothes, and his own tight embrace was almost painful. A moment later she realized she couldn't breathe because he was squeezing her too hard. She gasped and he loosened his grip enough to let her breathe. He pushed her back and put both hands on either side of her face.

"He hurt you?" He whispered hoarsely, and she shook her head no, then yes.

"I think I'm shot," she croaked. Daryl's hands moved to her shoulders. He guided her to a chair and looked down at her leg, where a widening red stain could be seen several inches above her knee.

"We need to get out of here," he said, and looked around the room for something he could use to tie off the wound. Just as he spoke, the radio that was somehow still attached to her belt crackled to life and Rick Grimes' voice was suddenly in the room with them.

"Lex, are you all right? The back door locked itself, hang on... we're coming in the front."

"Walkers in front," said Daryl. He bent over Zeke and yanked his belt off him, which was no difficult task since he'd already unbuckled it himself just a moment before. _I killed you too fast, Scumbag._

"No," Lex said into the radio, easing herself into a chair. "I'm okay, Rick. There's walkers in the front. Meet us at Big Rock, east side of town on the map in my pack. We'll make it there ourselves."

"We? Who's with you?"

"Daryl's here," she said, and he met her eyes again as he knelt down in front of her and looped the belt around her leg just above the gunshot wound. She flinched as he pulled it tight, then abruptly dropped the radio and leaned forward so she could kiss him. He kissed her back hard, and moved one hand on the back of her head to hold her there for a moment.

"Hurry, then," said Rick's voice from the floor. "Merle's gone. He went west through the woods. But we still have that other thing to deal with."

"What other thing?" Daryl asked against her lips, then pulled back and stood up.

"Long story," she said, and let him pull her to her feet. "We need to get to Big Rock. I seem to remember it was a really long walk, though."

"I got a better idea," he said, and put an arm around her waist to support her as they headed towards the back door.

* * *

><p>"You think they're all right?" Kyle asked as he helped Rick remove the cuff from his wrist. They'd parked the Explorer two blocks away from the police station and gone in on foot, so it was an easy run back. Rick had walked away for a few minutes to talk to Lex on the radio before rejoining him. She'd circled Big Rock on the map, and it was an easy drive for them but looked to be a difficult run on foot.<p>

"Yeah," said Rick as Kyle unscrewed the scope from his rifle and stowed it in the case in the open hatch of the Explorer.

"If I know Daryl Dixon he's probably already got her halfway there. But it's a good thing she'd told _you_ about Harmony before, or this might never have worked." He studied Kyle carefully as he spoke, but the other man simply shrugged. Rick spotted Andrea climbing down from her vantage point from across the street. She ran over to them, her face flushed with color and excitement.

"That was some amazing shooting," Kyle congratulated her as she tossed him the rifle.

"What can I say. I learned from the best," she smiled at Rick.

"Let's get back," said Rick. "They'll have a two-mile hike through the woods if this map is right. They might need some cover if they have walkers behind them.

"Or Merle," said Andrea. She climbed into the back seat and sat behind Kyle as Rick got in on the driver's side.

"He's wounded," said Kyle. "He moves pretty fast for a big guy, but I clipped him just before he got to the trees. He won't get far, not bleeding like that."

"Yeah, that's what I said last time," said Rick quietly. They drove in silence, following the back route around and out of town until they reached the wide open field that opened up below the steep slope behind Big Rock. Rick got out and looked up at the sun, noting how low it was in the sky.

"Damn," he said. "If they really have to run two miles they might not make it before dark."

"They'll have to camp in the woods," said Kyle. "And I'm guessing Daryl didn't bring a tent."

"Guys," Andrea was standing by the side of the road, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked towards the sun. "Somebody's coming. It sounds like a motorcycle." Kyle reached for the gun in the back seat, but Rick held up a hand to stop him. The chainsaw-rattle of a loud-pipe motorcycle could be clearly heard, and seconds later it came into view. A rider and one passenger on the back, who raised a hand at them as they came into view.

"I don't _believe_ it," said Andrea, and Rick shook his head with a smile in spite of himself.

"Nice chopper," said Kyle. "Daryl Dixon, I presume."

"The one and only," Rick sighed, and walked up to them as Daryl brought the bike to a stop and cut the engine. Alexis sat behind him, her eyes drawn and bewildered, and Rick noticed the belt wrapped around her upper leg.

"You all right?" Rick frowned at her, not liking the pale cast to her skin. But her eyes were clear and she nodded.

"You should ride with them," Daryl twisted around to look at her, and loosened the belt on her leg slightly. She shook her head immediately and turned her face away as Rick came closer to check the wound. It looked deep enough to be a problem, and he didn't know how much blood she'd lost.

"Go on," said Daryl. "You can lie down in the back. I'll be right behind you."

"No," she said stubbornly. "It's not far. I'll be fine, I promise."

Daryl looked back at Rick, then noticed Kyle standing next to the Explorer with Andrea.

"Is that the guy who blew up my truck?" he asked, and Rick nodded.

"Daryl," said Lex warningly, her voice muffled as she put both arms around his waist and rested her forehead between his shoulder blades.

"She's right, it isn't far," said Rick. "A roadside diner outside of Jessup. Just wave if she needs to stop. Good to see you, Daryl."

"Good to be seen," said Daryl bluntly. He avoided further eye contact as he started the engine again, and Rick noticed that Lex did the same. She kept her face hidden in Daryl's back, and Rick could only wonder what had happened back there. Asking was something that wouldn't come until much later, he thought as Kyle Davis climbed into the passenger seat beside him. Rick glanced sideways at Kyle, and he immediately gave him a nod and a smile as if to say _job well done_.

Yes. There were _definitely_ some other questions that needed to be answered first. He pulled out onto the road and glanced back to make sure Daryl was following, and soon they were heading East back to the diner. Back to pick up the pieces again.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Pearl Jam, _Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town_


	14. Alive

**A/N:** Hey everyone. Sorry for the delay, I've been a bit under the weather again. Hoping to make up for it this weekend. Thanks for the reviews and messages, I'll be shouting out in the next chapter. :)

* * *

><p><em>I do not understand<em>  
><em>What it is I've done wrong<em>  
><em>Full of holes<em>  
><em>Check for pulse, blink your eyes<em>  
><em>One for yes two for no<em>

_I have no idea what I am talking about_  
><em>I am trapped in this body and can't get out<em>  
><em>You killed the sound<em>  
><em>Removed backbone<em>  
><em>A pale imitation with the edges sawn off<em>  
><em>I have no idea what you are talking about<em>  
><em>Your mouth moves only with someone's hand up your ass<em>

_Has the light gone out for you?_  
><em>Cause the light's gone out for me<em>  
><em>It is the 21st century<em>  
><em>It is the 21st century<em>  
><em>It can follow you like a dog<em>  
><em>It brought me to my knees<em>  
><em>They got a skin and they put me in<em>  
><em>They got a skin and they put me in<em>  
><em>All the lines wrapped round my face<em>  
><em>All the lines wrapped round my face<em>  
><em>Are there for anyone else to see<em>  
><em>Are there for anyone else to see<em>

_I'm a lie_  
><em>I've seen it coming...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Alive<strong>

The ride back to the diner was a strange combination of relief and pure torture. Alexis had never ridden a motorcycle before, and when the machine had first surged forward back in Harmony she'd gripped Daryl so tightly around the middle he'd actually stopped and readjusted her hands so he could breathe.

"Hold on with your knees," he'd shouted over the roar of the engine, and she did her best to follow his instructions in spite of the growing numbness in her right leg.

He was angry. She could sense it rolling off him in waves and flinging back into her face as the wind whipped around them both and the road flew beneath them with dizzying speed. She knew at least part of that anger was pointed at her, even though the majority was lying in boiling, flaming reserves for Merle alone. She hoped the brothers would never cross paths again, for the sake of Daryl's sanity at the very least. But the fact that he was angry at her stung more than the bullet sitting quietly in her leg, disrupting the flow of blood and making every little bump in the road a jaw-rattling jolt. She supposed he had a right to be, but couldn't find a reason why she should apologize for her actions.

The vibration from the seemingly massive engine beneath her traveled up her legs and into her torso, then spread to her fingertips until they tingled uncomfortably. She flexed her hands one at a time, fearing for a moment that she might loose her grip and slip off, and Daryl almost immediately slowed the engine. At first she thought he was pulling over because he thought she wanted to stop, but when she raised her head to tell him _no_ she spotted the dusty-looking diner just ahead and realized they had already covered the short distance to where the rest of the group was waiting. And they were waiting, all of them standing in the parking lot and watching as the missing members returned.

If her body hadn't been so tired and sore, and her emotions were not a confused whirlwind of nonsense, she might have laughed at the almost comical look of shock and amazement on Glenn's face. She supposed the very unexpected arrival of Daryl Dixon on his brother's motorcycle, which still bore a certain very recognizable Nazi symbol across the gas tank, was a bit of a nasty shock. But the shock turned quickly to something else and she heard laughter as Daryl maneuvered the motorcycle into place behind the RV and cut the engine. Every muscle in her body suddenly felt weak and jelly-like, and she nearly slumped forward when Daryl detached himself from her hands and stood up.

"Sorry," he mumbled as she very shakily stood with his help. "It ain't s'posed to vibrate that hard. Here comes the welcome wagon."

"They're not sure sure if they should hug you or shoot you," Alexis observed. She took a step and almost fell as her right leg just about gave out.

"Neither, I hope," he sighed tiredly as Glenn approached.

"Jesus," he said, his grin so wide Alexis thought his face might split. "Rick said you were alive, but I didn't really believe it till now."

Daryl opened his mouth to reply, no doubt with something sarcastic and borderline nasty, but his breath was nearly knocked out of him when something small hit him around the midsection with surprising force. He looked down at Sophie as she hugged him fiercely, his free hand floating awkwardly up in the air as if he had no idea where to put it. Glenn turned his face away to hide his laughter as he hurried over to Alexis' other side to support her.

"She's been shot," Sophie gasped as she noticed Alexis' bleeding leg. She turned and ran back to the others, shouting that Alexis was shot even though they all were standing right there and could see with their own eyes.

"She really missed you guys," Glenn said in his_ Mr. Obvious_ voice. Alexis let herself be half-carried and half-dragged between Daryl and Glenn towards the diner, tuning out the sudden flurry of activity around her as the others closed in. Dale started shouting orders like a doctor in an emergency room, and she heard Carol's voice answering. The sun was bright and the world seemed to spin, and the next thing she was aware of was the sensation of being lifted, then lying down on a hard surface with something soft beneath her head. The belt around her leg was loosened, and she felt the rush of blood and with it, pain. A hand touched her forehead and she opened her eyes to Carol's gentle smile. She heard T-Dog's voice nearby, although she couldn't make out the words.

"Is there any rubbing alcohol?" said another voice, and Alexis realized Kyle was there. She was lying on the counter of the diner and somebody had folded something under her head to act as a pillow. Carol got up to help Kyle find what he was looking for and Alexis closed her eyes as movement blurred around her and a hand took hold of hers. She opened her eyes again and saw it was Daryl's, covered in motorcycle grease and blood.

"I don't want him to touch me," she whispered, and he had to lean closer to hear her. "Not Kyle. I don't trust him."

"I don't trust him either," Daryl said, his voice low so only she could hear him. "But he's outnumbered. He'll just get the bullet out, that's all. He said he's done it before."

"You're mad at me," Alexis mumbled.

"Not really. You're just a bigger idiot than I thought."

"This is going to hurt."

"Yep. A lot."

It did hurt, more than anything she'd ever experienced.

* * *

><p>"What were you thinking?" Daryl asked her bluntly as they made their way as silently as they could through a tiny alley between the Harmony General Store and the tiny two-pump gas station. She didn't answer immediately, and he glanced sideways at her and noted the pale hue of her skin. He tightened his arm around her waist and gave her a sharp squeeze, and she gripped his shoulder tightly, then looked at him.<p>

"What was I thinking when?" she asked, her tone flat in direct contrast with the emotions in her eyes. "When some disgusting backwoods pervert was trying to _fuck_ me against a jail cell? I wasn't _thinking_, Daryl. I was trying to figure out what to _do_, and get my brain around the fact that you're alive. I still am..."

She stopped talking as they came to the end of the alley and Daryl leaned out carefully and looked left, then right. He was holding the gun Zeke had taken from Rick in his right hand, and supported Alexis with his left. He'd also grabbed the machete, but it felt awkward to him and he didn't trust Alexis' strength to hold out, so he'd tucked the handle under his belt and let it hang down parallel to his right leg. He squeezed her again, more gently this time, and pointed across the road.

"Van's parked behind the gas station," he whispered. "There's a few walkers down the road a bit, but if we're quiet they might not notice us." She nodded and bit her lip against the pain as he pulled her forward, slowing his own pace to match her best limping speed. She glanced down the road and noticed that the walkers were either sitting down in the middle of the road or standing almost motionless on the sidewalks.

"Why are they doing that?" she mumbled. "It's like they just don't... _care_."

"How the fuck should I know?" Daryl mumbled, but he frowned as he realized she was right. They were crossing the road in full view of about half a dozen walkers, and none of them seemed to be interested. They reached the gas station and hurried around the side, then stopped and stared at the empty spot where the white cube van with _Ferenc Builders_ splashed on the side in red lettering had been parked.

"Son of a _bitch_," said Daryl.

"Let me guess," said Alexis. "Merle took the van."

"Yeah, but he won't get far," Daryl said. "The gas line has a leak in it."

"How do you know?'

"Because I put it there. God-_dammit._ It would have at least made it to Big Rock..." Alexis poked him in the arm and pointed, and he stared at the motorcycle parked beneath a nearby tree.

"I'm not even going to ask how it got here," said Alexis. "But do you think it runs?"

She stood leaning against the tree with the gun in her hand, watching for walkers as Daryl knelt beside the motorcycle to check the lines and gears for surprises. He found it hard to believe that Merle had deliberately left it behind without a specific reason and was sure that there was something wrong with it. But aside from a desperate need for an oil change, he could find nothing obviously out of place or dangerous. The tank had even been filled, most likely from the spare jugs Merle had collected just before they came into town.

"I saw you coming into town," he said abruptly. "Why'd you come here alone? You could have been killed."

"Why'd you go hunting alone?" she shot back. "I thought you _were_ killed."

"Don't gimme that," he stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. "I heard you on the radio. You sounded like... I dunno. Like you _wanted_ to die. What were you thinking when you came here?"

"I wanted to find Peter," she said quietly, and averted her face as he came closer. "If you heard us on the radio, you know that. I guess Merle heard it too, and guessed where I was."

"He didn't," said Daryl, and stepped up closer until his nose was almost touching hers. "I heard it. I heard _you._ What were you _thinking,_ Lex?"

"I thought you were dead," she said. She couldn't turn away from him, so she averted her eyes. "I lost Peter, and then I lost you. It hurt too much. I didn't want to feel anything anymore. I wanted to find Peter and finish him, then..."

"Then finish yourself," Daryl said, and she heard the anger in his voice now. "Was that it? A bullet in his head, then one in your own?"

"Something like that," she whispered.

"Your brother ain't here," he said. "But_ I_ am. Even if I was _dead_, I'd find a way to kick your stupid _ass_ for even _thinkin'_ like that."

She opened her mouth to reply even though she didn't know what she would say, but no words came as he crushed her lips against his and pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. Her breath was all but stolen away as he kissed her so hard it seemed like he wanted to punish her, and she realized how close she'd come to making the worst decision in the history of all Bad Decisions. He let her go abruptly and knelt down to loosen the belt around her leg for a moment. She hissed in pain and fear as sensation rushed back to her leg, and he looked up at her face when she leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder for support.

"Can you ride?" he asked simply, and slowly tightened the belt back up to slow the bleeding again. She glanced at the motorcycle and shook her head.

"I don't know how," she said in a small voice, and he stood up with a sigh and reached to brush tears off her face, then shook his head as if she were the biggest idiot on the planet.

"Ain't nothin' you need to know. Just don't fall off, and you're doin' it right."

"I won't fall off."

* * *

><p>"Is she gonna die?" Sophie's voice broke through Rick's thoughts and he looked at her in surprise.<p>

He was standing outside the diner, watching the road in both directions with a pair of binoculars. After arriving at the diner and settling Alexis inside, Daryl had quickly pulled him aside and whispered that Merle had taken the van. He also reported that he'd punched a small hole in the fuel line that would surely tear into something worse once Merle got the vehicle up to speed. Merle being mobile even for a short distance disturbed Rick, and he'd immediately headed outside with T-Dog to watch for trouble.

"No, of course not," he said quickly, and glanced up at T-Dog on the roof of the diner. The children had been ordered out when it became clear that Kyle was going to dig the bullet out of Alexis' leg with knife while Daryl, Glenn and Andrea held her down. To her credit, she'd only screamed once, but it was enough to frighten Sophie.

"We'll take care of her," he assured the girl as best he could. "It's just harder since we can't get to a hospital."

"They're hurting her," Sophie said quietly. Rick looked behind him as the door opened, and Lori came out.

"She's strong," said Rick. "It does hurt her, but she'll be all right. You can visit her when they're done." Lori leaned against him and whispered something in his ear, and he nodded in Sophie's direction.

"Hey," Lori smiled at her. "Come on and play checkers with Carl. He keeps beating me." She held out a hand with a smile, and Sophie took it, letting Lori lead her away from the diner and towards the RV.

Inside the diner, Kyle dropped the misshapen bullet into the bowl of water Carol held out for him, then picked it up and looked at it closely. When he was satisfied that nothing had been left behind, he sighed in relief and nodded at the others. Glenn and Daryl had been holding her shoulders down and Dale had her ankles while he'd dug around inside the wound with a knife. It wasn't an ideal situation by any stretch of the imagination, but the alternative was letting her bleed to death or die from infection.

"Almost done," he said quietly, and moved towards the stove. He lit the nearest burner and laid the knife directly in the flame. Alexis turned her head and saw what he was doing, and so did Daryl.

"For chrissake," he snarled. "Least we could do is get her drunk first."

"I found a warm beer in the cooler in front of you," said Kyle shortly. "I drank it last night. Sorry. Hold her, it won't take long."

When the knife glowed red, he removed it from the flame and avoided looking at her face as he brought it towards her.

"Oh _shit_," she whispered, and grabbed at both Daryl and Glenn in a sudden panic. They held her shoulders down as Kyle pressed the hot metal against the open wound. It sizzled, and Glenn immediately turned white and looked away. But Daryl watched grimly, letting her crush his hand as Kyle cauterized the edges of the wound as quickly as he could. Everyone had expected her to scream, but she bit her lip until it bled and remained silent, although her entire body went so tense it seemed like she'd snap in two.

"Water," said Kyle, and Carol quickly poured the bowl of water over the wound, cooling the burn almost instantly. Glenn let her go as she suddenly relaxed, and Kyle backed off as she turned towards Daryl, reaching for him with both hands. He watched without comment as Daryl put both arms around her and pulled her close, whispering something only she could hear.

"Put a cool compress on for the swelling," he said quietly to Carol. "Then dry it and bandage it. Can you do that?" She nodded and squeezed his arm in a comforting manner. Dale said something about painkillers, and Kyle hoped they had enough to knock her out. She deserved a long, uninterrupted nap after the day she'd had. He left the diner quietly, once again feeling like an intruder as the others tended to her. Glenn followed him outside without comment, and Rick turned and looked at them both.

"She'll heal," said Kyle. "She just needs some rest and halfway decent food."

"Both of which are hard to come by these days," Rick said, and waved up at T-Dog on the roof. He waved back and disappeared from sight, and Rick knew he was climbing down to join them.

"Thank you for your help," said Rick. "She probably won't be able to say it for awhile, so I will. Things probably would have gone a lot worse without you. I mean that."

"Nah," Kyle shook his head and wiped at his hands with a paper towel he'd grabbed inside. "It's the least I could do."

"Why is that?" Rick asked curiously. "You say that a lot. It's like you think you owe a debt or something." He studied Kyle's face as he spoke, but the other man only shrugged and looked away as he usually did when questioned. T-Dog appeared behind him then, and nodded once at Glenn. Rick sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Well," he said. "You've done a lot to help, Kyle. You really have. And that makes this even harder. But I have to protect my family first. I'm sure you'd understand."

Kyle looked at Rick steadily for a moment, then turned to look at T-Dog standing behind him with a rifle in his hands. Glenn stood on his left also armed with a rifle, and Andrea appeared on his right. Kyle sighed and shook his head, not bothering to berate himself for walking around unarmed.

"I _wanted_ to trust you," said Rick. "But when you said yesterday that Lex told you her brother died in Harmony, I knew I couldn't. See, she never talked about her brother with anyone but Daryl. And you might have already guessed that he's not the chatty type."

"Yeah," said Kyle. "That was risky. I didn't think you'd buy it. But I had to do something to get y'all pointed in the right direction. She would have died there without our help."

"I know," said Rick. "Like I said, that makes this harder. But Alexis never trusted you. She came to me a couple days before she left and told me to keep an eye on you, that something wasn't right. Maybe she was already planning on leaving, but I didn't know it then. But when Glenn showed us what he found in your duffel bag while we were gone, I had to make Daryl promise not to kill you until I gave you a chance to tell the truth."

Kyle stood motionless, eyes fixed on Rick as he spoke. Glenn stepped forward and held something out to Kyle, and he took it without comment. It was a thin stack of slightly bent 8 by 10 inch photos, and he was familiar with all of them. The first was a close-up from a surveillance camera inside Harmony police station, taken months ago. Alexis Reilly and Peter Quinn could clearly be seen in the photo, standing together in front of a police officer. The next one was a close-up of her face, and the next a close-up of Peter's face with a red "X" drawn over it. The third was also from the inside of the same police station, this one a close-up of Daryl Dixon standing in the doorway with a can of Pepsi in his hand. Another of the Harmony town sheriff, also with a red "X" drawn across it, and one of Merle Dixon, this one with a big red question mark.

Kyle paused before looking at the next ones and looked up at Rick, who was watching him with a tight, angry expression. Kyle glanced down at the last two photos. It had taken Rick and Glenn both a few minutes to understand these, but Kyle knew both were taken inside the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. Both showed the inside of the main lobby, just moments before the building had exploded. Rick, Shane and T-Dog could be seen clearly in this one as they ran for the broken window. The last one was another close-up of Alexis, with a red "X" drawn through it. Kyle's lip twisted into an odd half-smile when he got to the last one.

"Jenner wasn't supposed to open the doors," he said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't see that coming, but I guess he disobeyed orders, too. A lot of us did." He looked up as the door to the diner slammed open and Daryl came out, looking around until he saw them. He stood there on the top step, resting both hands on the railing and glaring at him. Kyle figured if they were planning on shooting him, Daryl would gladly volunteer to do the job.

"Nobody was supposed to get out of Harmony," said Kyle. "Especially not a reporter with video-recorded evidence. My mission was to kill her, and anyone helping her, then get that camera footage."

"So why didn't you?" Andrea demanded. "You had the perfect opportunity when you went with her to look for Daryl." Kyle turned to look at her, noting with some irony that it was his weapon she was pointing at him.

"I know," he said simply. "I changed my mind."

"Just like that?" T-Dog said doubtfully. "You were _on a mission_, and you just changed your mind?"

"How are we supposed to believe you now?" Rick asked.

"I guess you shouldn't," said Kyle. "If I were you, I'd shoot now and worry about right or wrong later. That's the only way any of us are going to survive this mess, Grimes."

"Wait," Daryl was coming towards them now. "What video?" Rick lowered his rifle slightly as Daryl put himself front of him and glared at Kyle.

"Her brother was seen around town with a video camera more than once," said Kyle. "Nobody bothered to take it from him because the town was already off the list. Nobody was supposed to survive, certainly not walk out on their own. They found him, but not the camera. I don't know what was on it, and I didn't ask. That's not part of my job. But he must have got something he wasn't supposed to see on film."

"They found him?" Daryl frowned, his thoughts spinning.

"Yeah," said Kyle. "Right where you left him."

"That's not enough," said Andrea. "He's still holding too much back. Why the hell would they care what a reporter saw in a little shit town like that? No offense," she added for Daryl's benefit, and he shrugged.

"I was wonderin' the same thing myself."

Rick glanced up at the sky. It was starting to get dark and heavy rainclouds were rolling into view. There were decisions needing to be made on all sides. He looked at Daryl, who seemed to be just itching to pound Kyle into the ground, then at the others. Finally he nodded and reached for the cuffs on his belt.

"Take him inside," he said, and tossed the cuffs to T-Dog. "Last booth from the door, cuff him to the coat rack. We'll stay here tonight and leave first thing in the morning. I want the kids in the RV with Carol and Lori, Dale can keep an eye on them. Everyone else is watching _him_."

Kyle kept his hands in view and allowed himself to be directed towards the diner at gunpoint by T-Dog and Andrea, and Glenn followed them inside. Rick stopped Daryl as he started to follow them and handed him the gun Kyle had given to Lex.

"If he even _looks_ at anyone sideways, shoot him," he said to him quietly.

"Don't make no sense at all," Daryl grumbled, and Rick once again found himself in full agreement.

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><p>Alexis swallowed the pills Dale gave her and decided not to ask how many they had left. The supplies she'd brought back from the last trip to Atlanta were fortunately stored in the RV and had survived the explosion at the farmhouse. But pain was something they wouldn't be able to always treat, and she had hoped to make those last as long as possible. Dale and Carol had fashioned a bed out of sleeping bags and a blanket laid over flattened cardboard boxes against the far wall, and Carol went out to the RV to bring back a pillow and change of clothes for her.<p>

Alexis couldn't see the point of changing into clean clothes until she had the opportunity to wash at least some of the filth off herself, so she opted to struggle out of her bloodstained pants, throw them in the corner and pull the blanket around herself. Carol had bandaged her leg securely with gauze and wrapped an ace bandage around the whole thing to hold it in place. Alexis felt the medication starting to make her head woozy almost immediately, but she refused to lie down and sleep in this tiny room by herself. Instead she leaned back against the wall and listened to the sound of the others talking out in the main area of the diner.

_He's alive,_she thought to herself as Daryl's voice reached her ears. She repeated the words to herself over and over inside her head until her eyes started to close and sleep started to overcome her stubbornness._ Pretending I'm strong just isn't working anymore. I don't want to live without him. _She pulled herself back into consciousness when hands touched her, pulled her away from the wall and made her lie down on the surprisingly comfortable cardboard-box-sleeping-bag bed. Perhaps it was only comfortable because Dale had drugged her so successfully. She turned her head to the side and saw familiar steel-blue eyes, anger crouched behind them but pushed down out of harm's way for her. Daryl was lying beside her, looking every bit as exhausted as she was. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, frowning at the red marks from her own teeth, then leaned forward and kissed them lightly.

"You love me," he said. "That _proves_ you're an idiot."

"Screw you, Dixon," she mumbled, and he smirked as he watched her fall asleep right in front of him.

"Maybe later."

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><p><strong>Song lyrics:<strong> Radiohead, _Bodysnatchers_


	15. A Measure of Truth

**A/N:** Hey all.. thanks for the reviews.

**viktorskrumpet -**Re: Kyle... nothing is ever what it seems. That much I learned from reading the comics. Anything can and will happen. I like that. Re: Daryl and Alexis - my mushy side is clearly showing through. I blame the meds.

**xXBXx -**we may never know what exactly was caught on film. Only time will tell. ;)

**ChildlikeEmpress -**I generally hate multiple dramatic revelations that are built up for too long and then when you get them they're a disappointment. I like to get them out of the way, and save the biggest for last. :)

**K -**I guess I wasn't satisfied with just one complicated OC, so I had to create another to play with. I like toys.

**FellowEarthGirl -**I really am glad you are enjoying it. We have to say goodbye to Merle for awhile, though. He's stealing the spotlight a bit too much!

**Oz-zone -**I'm sorry your roommate is upset, but I'll gladly take the brunt of her hatred as long as she doesn't abuse the house-elf. :)

**pitbullsrok -**perhaps your Merle and my Merle should get to gether, have a few beers and go bowling? maybe they can work out their differences that way. :D

**Nelle07 -**Hello there, thank you and welcome!

**AvidReaderWolf -**Thank you for the abundance in reviews. I'm glad you liked the ass-kicking, although I'm sorry to say Merle did not get his just yet. Perhpas later, perhaps not. We'll see what happens. We are due for some gratutitous zombie violence though. A bit overdue if you ask me. I'll get started on that ASAP.

**ChaoticxTheoreticals -**I already replied to your PM, but you get one here, too. Thank you. Sincerely. *hugs*

If anyone slips in a review before this chapter goes live, I'll catch you next time. Here's another short-ish chapter while I get us to the next stage of fun and games...

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><p><em>There is freedom within, there is freedom without<em>  
><em>Try to catch a deluge in a paper cup<em>  
><em>There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost<em>  
><em>But you'll never see the end of the road<em>  
><em>While you're traveling with me<em>

_Hey now, hey now_  
><em>Don't dream it's over<em>  
><em>Hey now, hey now<em>  
><em>When the world comes in<em>  
><em>They come, they come<em>  
><em>To build a wall between us<em>  
><em>We know they won't win<em>

_Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum_  
><em>And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart<em>  
><em>Only shadows ahead, barely clearing the roof<em>  
><em>Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief<em>

_Hey now, Hey now_  
><em>Don't dream it's over<em>  
><em>Hey now, Hey now<em>  
><em>When the world comes in<em>  
><em>They come, they come<em>  
><em>To build a wall between us<em>  
><em>You know they won't win<em>  
><em>Don't let them win<em>...

* * *

><p><strong>A Measure of Truth<strong>

"I don't understand," Alexis sat looking at Rick with bleary eyes, trying to absorb what he'd just told her.

She'd been awake for less than fifteen minutes, and had decided to cut the legs off her bloodstained pants to transform them into shorts rather than wait until they found a water source suitable for washing. Daryl had slipped away just before dawn to take a watch shift, and she was trying not to be grumpy about waking up alone again. Rick was very tactfully ignoring the fact that she was sitting cross-legged on top of the sleeping bag wearing nothing but a long T-Shirt that barely covered everything. Privacy was so non-existent while traveling closely with a small group, she'd stopped scrambling for cover whenever someone caught her in a less-than-presentable state.

"What videotape?" she frowned and turned turned the knife against the stubborn seam of her pants. "Peter never went anywhere without that little camcorder, but I hardly ever saw everything he got."

"Maybe he didn't get anything," Rick shrugged. "Kyle doesn't even know. He was just told to get it, no questions asked."

"And kill me in the process."

"Yeah," Rick nodded. "Probably Peter, Daryl and Merle, too."

"I want to talk to him." She leaned back and pushed her good leg into her newly-fashioned shorts, and Rick stood up abruptly, turning away awkwardly. She noticed his reaction and glanced down at herself to confirm that she was at least wearing underwear.

"You don't have to do that," Rick said, keeping his back turned as she rolled onto her back to make it easier to push her wounded leg into the shorts. "Not right away, at least."

"I smell coffee," she said, her voice oddly strained. Rick risked a peek and discovered she was now standing and fully dressed, but holding her shorts on with one hand as they threatened to slip down over her hips again. _Malnutrition_, he thought to himself. _We're going to start starving soon._ He spotted a belt lying on the floor nearby and picked it up.

"Lori made some on the stove," he said as he handed her the belt. "We're leaving soon. I'm just trying to decide if he's coming with us or not."

"I want to talk to him," she said again.

* * *

><p>Kyle Davis had not had the most comfortable of nights. T-Dog had cuffed his right hand to the small coat hook attached to the side of the booth, and it forced him to sit with his arm up and flat against the back of the booth. As the night wore on, he'd felt the blood drain from his fingers to be replaced by a telltale tingling that would soon be replaced by full numbness. Sleep was out of the question, but he rarely did that while the others were awake anyway. So he'd sat and watched them rotate shifts all night, and kept quiet regardless of the suspicious angry glances they'd thrown his way.<p>

He learned quickly that Daryl Dixon was a master of _The Glare_. Kyle saw a lifetime of practice behind that glare, although he suspected the man was a bit of a loose cannon when he let his anger get the better of him. He'd glared at Kyle last night just before disappearing to check on Alexis and get some sleep, and he was still glaring at him when he got up to take a watch shift before the sun came up. He was back in the diner now, getting himself coffee from the stove and glaring at him again whenever he was facing him.

The kids were allowed to come in, but not to approach him at all. Lori tried to glare at him when he smiled at Sophia, but hers wasn't nearly as effective as Daryl's. Carol brought him oatmeal and a glass of water, but turned away quickly before he could speak to her. He saw the sense of betrayal reflected in her eyes, and it settled heavy in his chest in spite of himself. _I was only following orders. _I can't expect them to just understand. He sighed and ate the bland oatmeal, flexing the numb fingers of his right hand and glancing up every so often to make sure they were still moving. He imagined they'd gone through all his belongings by now and found nothing more incriminating than the photos, and wondered if they'd give him at least some of his things back if they were planning on leaving him here. He wasn't worried about the handcuffs, he could be out of them in less than a minute if necessary, but... he looked up from the lumpy oatmeal as Alexis came out from the back room of the diner.

She'd chopped the legs of her army-green pants off so they ended just above the knee, and changed into a black tank top that was too long and hung well past her waist. The wide bandage around her right upper leg was visible and he could see tiny hints of blood leaking through. Men's hiking boots with mismatched socks completed the ensemble, and she was sporting bruises on her left knee and both elbows. She looked like his sister Jenny at age ten after she'd fallen out of the tree house. She walked stiffly over to the stove, pulling her hair up and twisting it into a knot behind her head as she walked, and he noticed a small tattoo at the base of her neck that he hadn't known was there. He watched as Daryl made what was no doubt a smart-mouthed comment about her new outfit, and she elbowed him in the ribs, then tipped her head back so he could kiss her. His hand strayed to her neck for a moment, then ran down her back to rest on her waist when she focused her attention on pouring coffee for herself, and Kyle felt a small smile playing at his lips.

"Enjoying the view?" somebody said, and he looked to his right as Andrea sat down on one of the counter stools, facing him. The young woman was regarding him with the same, flat angry look that she'd worn since yesterday, and he gave her a single nod in reply.

"I am," he said. "But not the way you think."

"Is that right?" she said. "You know, I notice things. And among the many things I've noticed is the fact that you stare at her. A lot. At first I thought you were just horny, but now I don't know what to think."

"No, it's not like that," he said, still watching Alexis as she turned to the counter and poured too much sugar in her coffee, then raised her eyes to meet his.

"Then how is it?" Andrea pressed. "Why are you here with us if you _changed your mind_ about your mission?"

Kyle didn't answer her, just leaned back and watched as Alexis limped around the counter and approached his booth. Daryl followed right behind her, and Grimes was behind them both. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, then looked sideways out the window as Alexis set her cup down on the table a little louder than necessary and slid into the booth across from him. He smiled again when he heard the click of a lighter and smelled the smoke as she lit one of his cigarettes. When he turned to face her, she pushed the pack across the table at him with one finger, an exact parody of how he'd offered her one not long ago.

"Is this an interrogation?" He asked, looking sideways at the others as they seated themselves at the counter beside Andrea.

"No," she said. "It's just me wanting some answers."

"Okay," he said. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Once upon a time," she said, her eyes fixed on him and her voice completely no-nonsense. "There was a mindless puppet named _Kyle_ who did whatever his masters told him to do."

"I was never good at telling stories," he smiled gently.

"But you're very good at telling lies," she replied.

"I didn't lie," he said. "I just _omitted_."

"Then tell us what you omitted."

Alexis looked down at her coffee and frowned as a bit of ash from her cigarette landed on the surface. She took advantage of the brief silence to fish it out with a fingernail, then took a gulp of the hot, bitter liquid and set her cup down to stare at Kyle again. He was frowning and tracing circles on the tabletop with the middle finger of his left hand as he began to speak.

* * *

><p><em>Harmony was dead before the first walker made itself known, but don't think that made it exclusive in any way. There are hundreds of thousands of tiny little towns just like it, some so small you'd miss them if you blinked when you drove through. I don't know how many they chose, but Harmony fit the profile as far as population, rural location, and logistics. It was easy to isolate and contain, just like all the others that fit the profile. Didn't you find it strange that the military was there so quickly after the first few cases of a strange disease were reported. Of course not. Fear keeps people from asking questions. It makes them go home, lock their doors and wait for help to come. When they see the uniforms, they're relieved that help came so quickly. They don't ask questions.<em>

_They planted two walkers within Harmony town limits. That was the standard for all of the test towns. Two walkers, no more. They set the clock as soon as contact was made and watched to see how fast it would spread. There was a town in Missouri that went down in 48 hours, but they had to cross that one off because it turned out to be a Mormon commune and everyone lived in close proximity with each other. What they didn't count on was one of the test walkers wandering out of town and getting hit by a couple of tourists out on the highway. In a way, they saved the Harmony experiment. If that walker had gone and infected the wrong town, they would have had to cross them both out. But Alexis Reilly and Peter Quinn managed to cripple it so it couldn't get far, and when they went to Harmony for help, they sent a deputy who got himself bitten and brought it home anyway. So in a way, it worked.  
><em>

_That's all I really know about Harmony, though. The experiment was strictly to measure time, to determine how long the disease took to be spread by a bite. Nobody was supposed to survive. It took Harmony a week to reach Wildfire status, but by the time the call was made it was too late for the soldiers still there. They started to carry out the executions as ordered, but a couple of them refused and ran instead. It didn't matter in the end, the walkers got the ones that ran. At least that's what they thought._

_I was stationed at Fort Benning when they declared Wildfire in Atlanta. I never even heard of Harmony. Everything fell apart so fast, I lost contact with my command and the mission I was on at the time just seemed to fall away. I can't even remember what it was. Civilians were flocking to Benning in droves, and the troops were organizing evacuations, so I jumped in and helped when I could. They were lifting them out by helicopter and taking them to a safe zone, then coming back for more. When the last group was scheduled to go out, the call came in to execute them all. Some of them refused and ran, a Lieutenant shot a few for disobeying orders... it was... insane. People were running and screaming in all directions, soldiers were shooting civilians as well as each other... so I grabbed my gear and ran. I made it to a computer up-link on the other side of Benning that was still active and made contact with command. They told me Atlanta was finished, and issued me new orders._

_My wife, Linda and our son Michael... I hadn't seen either of them in two years and I just wanted to get back to Texas to find them. I asked to be removed from duty, and was denied. They said they were safe and would be protected, like all of the other families of active operatives. They lied to me of course, but it didn't occur to me to even think that at the time. I was operating on my training alone. They sent the images from inside Harmony police station and my new orders, to locate the reporter and her photographer and eliminate them, then collect any videotape equipment they carried with them. They don't give details, and we don't ask. I had the photos, a detailed map of Harmony and coordinates for a rendezvous point when the mission was completed. That was all I needed._

_I took a satellite phone and used the GPS up-links to track you for awhile. You kept turning on your cell phone when you left Harmony, you know. Command reported your brother was shot and killed when you escaped. I didn't think anything of it at the time, just crossed him off. Lost you somewhere outside Atlanta shortly afterwards, somebody set off a goddamned fireworks display that drove the walkers crazy. I don't know if that had anything to do with you, but if it did, it was a good trick. It threw me completely off your trail, and you stopped using your cell phone right around then. So I went to Atlanta, since it seemed as likely a place as any for you to be. It's damn big, though and dangerous as hell. If you were there, I didn't think you'd survive it. Bad people, worse than walkers. You probably already know that, though._

_I got lucky, though. A bunch of street punks holed up in a nursing home to protect some elderly survivors knew you by your photo. They didn't trust me, though and wouldn't tell me exactly where you went. They said they didn't know, but I knew they were lying. No, don't look at me like that. I didn't do anything to them, even though command would have ordered me to. I told them that the old ones would get up again even if they died of natural causes, and they didn't like that. I told them to get out of the city and head for the mountains, and they were arguing about it when I left. Miguel said to tell you hello if I found you, by the way. I kept searching the city. I couldn't believe you'd get far by yourself, but as more time went on and I saw less and less living people I started to think there wasn't any damn point in even finding you. My job is - or was - to eliminate threats and potential threats as determined by my superiors. I was starting to question how much of a threat you could be at this point, no matter what you might have on video. I decided to start searching outside the city and sent a couple messages through the satellite link to command, but I never heard back. _

_When the CDC blew up, anything with working eardrums in a 100 mile radius heard it, so I headed that way. There's a separate safety bunker on campus at the University there, so I thought if any CDC personnel had survived that's where they'd be. It was empty, but I was able to log in and found a message from command with the last transmission from the CDC. Jenner wasn't supposed to let you out, or even in for that matter. He was still sending regular reports even though he thought nobody was getting them. Obviously, someone was. He let it slip that you were there, probably without even knowing it. All of the interior security cameras run a live feed through satellites, too. He probably didn't know that either. The cameras caught you all escaping, so I at least had a vague idea of where you were._

_But when I looked at the photos and watched Jenner's last recorded transmission... I started to get angry. Did you know he was recording the whole time you all were yelling at him to open the door? I watched the recording three times before I left. You wouldn't give up. Rick wouldn't give up, Daryl, Lori, Shane... you all fought Jenner tooth and nail for your lives when he offered you a simple and painless way out. He told you there was no hope, and maybe he was right. But you wouldn't just accept that on his word. I admired that in you, in all of you.I even understood why a couple of you didn't want to fight... and why one stayed behind. She wasn't afraid, you know. Jacqui. She wanted you all to live, even though she was too tired to keep going. _

_I looked at the printouts of the photos and decided to cross you off the list right then and there. I didn't give a shit about a video camera, or my responsibility to protect government secrets anymore. All I knew was that if I removed you and your friends from this world, there wasn't any point in trying to survive. The human race **will** end without people like you alive in this world, and whoever was sitting somewhere safe ordering me and who knows how many others to destroy the last bits of humanity was either inhuman themselves or simply too ignorant to be trusted any further.  
><em>

_I sent command a message telling them that you were dead and I was going home. I told them the video was lost, and I wasn't going to bother looking for it. I got a message back just before I left, and they said my family was dead. They'd been killed long before I left Atlanta and I was ordered to report to the rendezvous point..._

"So what did you say?" Alexis asked when Kyle paused and took a long drink from the glass of water in front of him. He set the glass down and frowned at the bottom of it. Alexis had both arms resting on the table as she leaned forward slightly and watched his facial expression intently. He knew what she was looking for. Telltale signs of a lie or evasion. Averted eyes, looking left instead of right. Tapping fingers, scratching the nose. Nervous habits. Somewhere during her life she'd learned to read human body language, something which was a very handy skill for a reporter to have. He knew the tells as well as she did, but he was honestly too tired to even try to deceive her.

"I told them to go fuck themselves," he said simply.

* * *

><p>"He's telling the truth," Rick said simply. He was standing outside the diner with Alexis, Daryl, T-Dog and Lori. Andrea was sitting on the steps looking pale and thoughtful, and Dale sat with her. Glenn stood alone, leaning against the Explorer and chewing his thumbnail thoughtfully. Carol sat in the doorway of the RV with Sophie in front of her, holding the girl in a loose, motherly hug. Carl was sitting on the ground at their feet, drawing something in the dirt with a stick. Kyle's third-person view of the events inside the CDC had shaken them all in some way, and everyone seemed to be absorbing his words at their own speed.<p>

"He's a trained assassin," Lori reminded him. "I think it goes without saying that he's a trained liar too."

"Somebody killed those people at the nursing home in Atlanta," T-Dog added. "He seems more than capable."

"Maybe," said Alexis. "But if he did that knowing they were friends of ours, it would have been wiser to not even mention he was there, don't you think?"

"You sticking up for him?" Daryl asked with a frown, and she shook her head immediately. "After all that? The government wasted the town I grew up in as part of some fuckin' _experiment_."

"I'm _not_ sticking up for him," she said. "Not at all. But he could have killed any or all of us any time he wanted to since showing up. He didn't have to _help_ any of us, but so far that seems to be all he's done."

"Out here there's no government to give him orders," said Rick thoughtfully. "He's as free and as lost as we are. He's making his own choices, maybe for the first time in a long time. Do we trust that?"

"No," Lori said immediately. Daryl and Alexis both nodded as if they agreed with her.

"But that's not reason enough for us to kill him, either," Dale spoke up. "Like it or not, I think we need him. He's got a set of skills that's nothing like anything any of us have."

"We've all had our lives ripped out from underneath us," Rick said. "Just like everybody else who's survived this long anywhere. What makes us different is how we adapt. We've seen the worst that people can be... at least I hope that's the worst. But if he's right, and we represent the _best_ that people can be, then we've got a bit of a responsibility ourselves, don't we?"

Everyone looked at him, then at the ground, the sky or anywhere else but each other as they thought about what he said.

"Okay," Daryl finally said. "I don't know what the fuck _that_ means, but if yer sayin it's our responsibility to repopulate the world, you should know that I'm really no good with kids. An' I don't like babies."

Andrea snorted loudly, then covered her mouth quickly and looked embarrassed. Alexis was hiding a smile as well, and after a moment T-Dog laughed too.

"Now _that_ is a scary thought," he said. Lori shook her head and walked away, not bothering to hide the fact that the entire conversation bothered her. Rick watched her go, then shook his head at Daryl.

"Fine," said Rick. "We'll cross you off the list for parenting, Dixon. If there ever is a list. So what do we do about Kyle? Vote?"

"To kill or not to kill?" Andrea frowned. "No thanks. Let him choose if he wants to come with us or not. Just as long as he knows he's got a long way to go as far as trust."

Rick looked around at everyone else, and they all nodded, with the exception of Daryl who only scowled and looked at the ground. he knew he wasn't going to trust Kyle immediately, if ever, and that was just fine with Rick. Daryl's natural skepticism might have once been born out of hatred and mistrust, but there was no denying that it was at least partly responsible for keeping him alive this far. Rick tossed the keys to the handcuffs to T-Dog and he went inside to release Kyle.

"Where are we going now?" Alexis leaned on the Explorer next to Glenn, rubbing her right leg gingerly. "And will there be water?"

"There's a lake about 15 miles South of here," said Daryl.

"Could Merle make it 15 miles with a leaking fuel line?" Rick asked him, and Daryl paused for a moment, considering.

"No, but he knows we're going South," he said quietly. "We should go East or West before turning South again. If nothing else, it will throw him off if he's even still tryin' to follow."

"You don't think he is?" Rick asked, and Daryl shrugged.

"He's alone," said Alexis. "For now at least. It won't be easy for him to follow us without help."

"If he's even alive," Daryl said bluntly. "Altamaha River is about 40 miles west of here. It runs south all the way to the ocean just North of the Florida State line. There's lakes all the way, we shouldn't have any trouble findin' water from here on out."

"Let's head west, then," said Rick. "I think Alexis has soap she wants to use. And to be honest, I think we all should be thinking the same way."

Kyle came out of the diner with T-Dog right then, and stood on the top step, rubbing his right wrist and studying them all in silence. Rick walked over to him and everyone else dispersed quietly as the two walked towards the Jeep that had once belonged to Shane. Daryl watched them both, and Alexis saw the distrust clearly showing on his face.

"I grabbed your stuff from the house," she said. "I don't know what was left behind, though. I never bothered to look. I think T-Dog put it in the Explorer." Daryl nodded, still watching Rick and Kyle as he headed around to the back of the Explorer.

"Might want to think about a bath more carefully," Daryl said to her as he opened the hatchback door. "This is alligator country, sweetheart."

"I'll risk it," she said. "Bathing is vital to my sanity at this point. I had alligator soup once, in New Orleans."

"And you probably will again," Daryl said, then leaned forward with a frown as he spotted his crossbow, broken across the middle. He grasped hold of it and pulled it towards him, then picked it up as if cradling the body of a sick or injured child.

"I'm sorry," Alexis said, and she meant it genuinely. "Glenn thought he might be able to fix it, but Kyle said it wouldn't shoot straight again."

"It won't," Daryl said. "Even if it did, the tension from the wire would just make it break again first time it was fired. Fuckin' Merle..." he turned it over carefully to inspect the damage on the other side, then sighed and set it back down. Alexis wondered if he was planning to bury it, but decided not to comment.

"There's a hunting outlet 30 miles west of here," he said, and slammed the door shut. "I'll just get another one."

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Crowded House, _Don't Dream It's Over_


	16. Sanctuary

**A/N:** Hello hello! Sorry for the delay. Between earthquakes, severe thunderstorms, mud volleyball, Michael Rooker, Hurricane Irene and me _not having any internet for 2 horrible days_... everything got super busy and more than a little weird around here. I also got writer's block. Yuck!

**yingyang58** and **Nelle07** - welcome, and thank you so much!

Person who reviewed anonymously - I think you're probably a regular who forgot to log in. Thank you, and I am feeling better. :)

**GingerGidget** - your writing most certainly is NOT "poop." I have to admit to a great degree of childish approval for your use of that word.

**JoanieNobody** - I know. Poor Daryl. We'll get him a new one.

Okay, time to get caught up... I'm very tired and I don't have song lyrics tonight. It took me half an hour just to come up with a title!

* * *

><p><strong>Sanctuary<strong>

Alexis found traveling in the RV to be both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because the bullet wound in her leg qualified her as the only group member who needed access to an actual bed, and a curse because the RV smelled like people. Unwashed people forced to spend too much time in a small space together for an extended period of time, to be exact. Knowing that she was one of them wasn't much of a comfort, and opening windows did little more than let insects in for a free ride.

Daryl took the lead on Merle's motorcycle, it seemed to make the most sense since he knew the area like the back of his hand,and his closeness to the road gave him a better view of what was directly in front of them. Alexis felt the loss of his truck more than ever now. Back at the camp they had both been content to call a tent home, but on the road home had been Daryl's truck. Alexis silently resented Kyle for blowing her home up, regardless of his good intentions. Their tent was gone as well, which meant starting from scratch again, making do with what they had or cramming everyone into the RV at night. _Not a chance in hell,_ Alexis thought as she tried to imagine Daryl sharing the floor of the RV with multiple people. He'd sleep on the roof first, or on the ground underneath if it was raining.

Sitting on one of the two narrow beds in the RV's small bedroom, she watched the world go by and tried to ignore the dull, aching throb in her leg. The sound of the motorcycle must have carried for miles in the absence of regular street noise, but it was also a constant reminder that Daryl had returned to the group alive and well, physically at least. Another reason to resent Kyle for blowing up Daryl's truck, she'd had almost no time alone with him to ask about what had happened between him and Merle. She knew the longer he brooded alone, the more likely he'd be to push it all down and bottle it up in the hopes of forgetting what happened. But he wouldn't forget, no matter how hard he tried. As horrible as Merle's actions had been or would have been, he was still Daryl's brother and that was a bond that was not easily broken. Alexis couldn't help but compare her own loss to Daryl's. Was it harder for her to lose her brother, who loved her dearly and had always protected her even at the cost of his own life? Or was it harder for Daryl, who fought to keep loyalty to his brother no matter what horrible things he did to him and who knew how many others? She supposed neither loss was harder than the other, just under very different circumstances.

She found herself hoping Merle Dixon had been torn to pieces and devoured alive by walkers, and her own sense of hatred almost frightened her. In spite of everything, Merle had unloaded the motorcycle and filled up the gas tank before leaving in the truck. Clearly he'd left it for Daryl so he could escape, and had made no attempt to interfere or stop him. That had to count for something... right? _Wrong._ Alexis would have allowed Merle some benefit of the doubt if he hadn't willingly handed her over to a horny hillbilly with all brain power centered in his crotch. She shuddered slightly and was immediately annoyed with herself for allowing her thoughts to stray back to those horrible moments. _That's twice. Three times in less than a year I've almost been raped. Probably killed, too. There can't be a fourth time...I'll lose my fucking mind..._ She felt like something was crawling over her skin, and wished for soap and scalding hot water for the hundredth time in the last 48 hours. She decided it was all right to hope that Merle Dixon had quietly bled to death somewhere on the side of the road after the truck had given out on him, and turned to look out the back window of the RV to ensure the other two vehicles were still following.

Rick had taken it upon himself to drive the Jeep with Kyle as a passenger, and they followed the RV with T-Dog's Explorer bringing up the rear. Alexis suspected it was his way of keeping their newest and least trusted group member away from his family, but she wondered how long it would be possible to keep babysitting him like that. She also wondered how long Kyle would tolerate it. Carol and Sophie had been riding with him, most likely so they could get out of the smelly RV for awhile, but after recent events Carol had avoided him as much as possible and instructed her daughter to do the same. She and Lori both seemed determined to continue some sort of education for the children, and nobody thought to question them, even though algebraic equations seemed to be the last skill needed under current conditions. They were all sitting around the table now, Carol, Lori, Carl and Sophie

_How ironic,_ Alexis mused as she watched both mothers taking the education of their children so seriously. _So many of us spent the larger part of our lives planning for and worrying about our futures. Working our butts off to pay for educations that we thought were necessary to our survival and comfort... but when the future finally arrived the only ones who survive are those who can adapt to life without convenience. Education means jack shit now, unless it included basic outdoor survival. The ability to catch a fish and tell the difference between poisonous mushrooms and edible plant life used to mean you liked camping. Now it means you've got an advantage that many others never even considered. Teach the kids how to shoot a gun, hunt for rabbits, catch a fish and run from danger... aim for the head..._

She drifted in and out of sleep and they continued west for the better part of the day, stopping a few times to push cars out of the way and siphon gas whenever it was available. Daryl had insisted they go this way in the hopes that at least some of their lost supplies could be replenished. For the most part, the places they'd found as they got further away from the larger towns and cities had not been looted and he hoped that the large central outlet where he had gone for his own hunting supplies in the past would be largely untouched. Looting seemed to be less of an unplanned event just prior to the fall of the larger cities. Alexis supposed the opportunistic looters in post-hurricane or tornado destruction were much different from people who were too busy fleeing for their lives to stop and take advantage of "free stuff."

It was late afternoon when they arrived at their destination, or rather the first stop along the way of their tentatively unplanned destination. Alexis had fallen into a fitful sleep, but woke immediately when the RV came to a stop. The kids were tired, but it was that crabby, restless fatigue that was caused by long road trips and boredom. Everyone was glad to get out of the RV, for fresh air if nothing else.

"You have got to be kidding," T-Dog said. Everyone was standing on the edge of the parking lot outside Jimbo's Range and Trading Post. It wasn't the little country store they'd been expecting, but rather an outlet made up of several stores, all specializing in firearms, hunting and outdoor sportsman needs.

"Redneck heaven," Andrea remarked.

"Guys, that's a _mall_," said T-Dog. "Are we really going inside a mall? Doesn't anyone else around here know that malls are always the worst choice anyone can make?"

"It ain't a mall," said Daryl.

"Damn straight," said Andrea. "There's no Starbucks."

"It's not a mall," Glenn said. "It's only got like three stores."

"So it's a _little_ mall," T-Dog argued.

"It ain't a mall," Daryl said irritably. "Buncha fuckin' pussies."

"Excuse me?" Andrea and Lori both glared at him.

"Jesus man," T-Dog said. "You can't call a girl a pussy! What's _wrong_ with you? Don't matter what it is, I ain't goin' in there. The black dude that always gets killed first."

"Only if he's a fuckin' pussy," Daryl muttered.

"Hell no," T-Dog argued. "It's always the black dude first. Especially if there's a mall. Name one exception. I bet you can't."

"Ving Rhames, _Dawn of the Dead_," said Alexis. "Are you guys going to stand there and argue until the sun goes down or are we going inside?"

"We don't all have to go in," said Rick. "It's just a supply run."

"Y'all can stay here," said Daryl. "Me and Ving can go. I'll let 'im go in first."

"Screw you, hillbilly," T-Dog snapped. "You're lucky to have me watchin' your back."

"Knock it off," Rick tried to sound angry but Glenn was now giggling almost uncontrollably and Rick failed at sounding too harsh. He watched the group with a mild sense of annoyance combined with amusement as he and Kyle sorted through the remaining ammunition for the weapons. Everyone was on edge and in desperate need of blowing off steam, and being cooped up on the road wasn't helping. Daryl seemed particularly edgy, and Rick didn't want him anywhere near T-Dog like that.

"We'll go in twos," said Rick. "Daryl, you and Kyle head around back. Glenn and Andrea, check the front. T-Dog and me will head to the far side. Everyone else stay put, keep an eye out. Okay?" He tossed Alexis one of the shortwaves and she scowled as she caught it.

"No," he said before she could say anything. "You stay. Dale could use a watch partner." She felt obliged to argue, but her leg still bothered her and she knew she'd just slow them all down. Kyle stood next to the Jeep, loading weapons and handing them around, and she watched as Daryl came up beside him and reached for one of the rifles. She couldn't imagine why Rick had paired the two of them together, Daryl was more likely to pick a fight with him than anyone. But Rick never did anything without a reason, even if that reason made no sense to anyone else.

Daryl caught her eye and winked at her once, as if reading her thoughts. She shook her head and gave him a half-smile as he came around the Jeep towards her.

"Did you tell Rick to make me stay?" she asked him half-accusingly.

"Nope, but I would have," he replied. She looked past him at the mall that wasn't really a mall, then at Kyle behind him.

"Don't say you have a bad feeling about this," Daryl groaned. She looked at him briefly, then down at the ground and shook her head.

"Not particularly," she said. "I just hate to sit here and wait. Last time I ended up waiting far too long."

"I know," he said, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "But I promised I'd come back, an' I did. Right?"

"Right," she smiled at the ground when he kissed her forehead, drawing a collective _awwww_ from Glenn and T-Dog.

"Fuck off," he muttered as he passed them both to talk briefly with Rick. Alexis glanced over at Kyle, who was looking at her without expression as he shouldered his favorite weapon.

"Thank you," She said. "For patching me up, and saving our asses back at the farm. But if anything happens to him, it better _not_ be your fault." If he took offense he didn't show it, just gave her a salute and a smile as he moved away to follow the others. Daryl looked at him as he approached, his expression flat and just as unfriendly as it had ever been, but he raised no objections as Rick laid out the plan, as it were.

Alexis heard someone coming towards her and turned to see Lori approaching. Her face was pale and drawn, and Alexis frowned when she saw the circles under her eyes. She'd been sick back at the farm, but it had passed in time and she thought she'd been better. But looking at her now, she only seemed to be worse than before. Dale climbed up onto the RV as the others started across the parking lot together, and Carol herded the kids towards the RV. They objected to going back inside, and Alexis could hardly blame them since the day was warm and sunny and the RV still smelled like feet. Carol relented, and pulled while Carl and Sophie played a game that involved drawing in the dirt with sticks.

"I'm glad you're back with us," Lori said quietly. "In spirit, I mean." Alexis took a deep breath and sighed heavily. She'd shut out the world and everyone around her while Daryl had been gone, and she felt more than a little guilty for her self-centeredness.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You've all been like family to me. I shouldn't have shut you all out like that. Especially Glenn... he practically babysat me the whole time. I just couldn't... " she shrugged and looked at Lori helplessly.

"Do you think I don't know?" Lori smiled. "Rick was dead and gone as far as I knew, for a month. I was just as broken as you were. But I had Carl to think about and ... Shane... pushing me to keep going. We were there for you, we just couldn't see inside your head."

"I didn't want to live without him," Alexis said quietly. "I still don't. It's totally selfish, I know. But it is what it is."

"That's your heart talking," said Lori. "All hearts are selfish. They have to be. It's the brain's job to be rational."

"What?" Alexis laughed lightly, but looked at Lori closely. "Are you saying I'm irrational?"

"Not right this moment," Lori smiled back. "But you were. We've all been irrational at some point. Daryl was when he learned Merle was left handcuffed to a rooftop. I was when I thought my husband was dead and I'd never see him again. Andrea was when she wanted to die at the CDC. Shane was irrational..." she paused and shook her head as if to banish the name from the air between them.

"I guess we've all been there," Alexis sighed. "And if we haven't, we probably will be soon enough."

They both watched as the group split three ways. Daryl and Kyle disappeared around the back of the building, and Rick was soon gone from view with T-Dog. Glenn and Andrea approached the front doors and peered through for a moment before moving to the fire escape close by.

"I could really use a drink," Alexis sighed. She turned and walked the few steps to the Explorer, and let the back down so she could sit on it.

"Me too," said Lori. "But it will be awhile before that's going to happen."

"Wine, chocolate and a hot bath. That's what I want for Christmas. Maybe they'll find something inside," Alexis said wistfully. "I'd settle for cheap whiskey at this point."

"I would too," Lori smiled at the ground as she sat on the tailgate with her feet dangling. "But it's bad for the baby."

* * *

><p>"You've been here before," Kyle said as Daryl headed around to the back door confidently. Behind the building a dumpster overflowed into a single-lane road reserved for deliveries and employee parking. It was mostly deserted, only two small long-abandoned cars had been left behind. They had spotted two walkers on the opposite side of the lot, but they were wandering away from them, and Daryl figured Rick and T-Dog could handle themselves if they encountered them.<p>

"Twice a year or so since it opened," Daryl said. "Otherwise have ta go to Atlanta for crossbows & stuff."

"Is that why we're here?" Kyle looked up at the roof of the building, then scanned the surrounding area as Daryl led them towards the loading bay. "To get you a new crossbow?"

"Yeah, if there's anything left. " Daryl shot him a look, trying to decide if he was criticizing him or not. He couldn't read his face, and that bugged him. Everyone else in this group was as open as a centerfold, but not this guy. He supposed they taught him that in the military. He noticed the loading bay door was pulled down tight, but didn't appear to be padlocked.

"Ain't just that," he continued as he climbed up onto the loading dock and pulled at the door experimentally. Kyle climbed up and moved to the opposite side, and they both pulled until the door rolled up in a less-than-quiet manner. "Like to replace what got _blown up_, but it ain't just me that needs supplies, Rambo."

"The name's Kyle."

"Whatever."

The door rolled up easily, but squealed loudly. They both flinched and froze in lace for a couple long moments, but if any walkers heard they didn't show themselves and nothing came rushing at them from inside.

"Close it," Kyle suggested. "We'll go out the _front_ door." They pulled the door down again, and it squealed even louder before closing with a hard _clang_. The room instantly plunged into near darkness, and Kyle fumbled for a moment then produced a small flashlight. He flicked it around the small loading area before settling it on a narrow door on the far wall.

"Should be the back of the main store," said Daryl. "Shootin range is out to the left."

"Indoor?" Kyle sounded pleasantly surprised, and Daryl nodded as they headed towards the door.

"Partly underground, Jimbo built it into a hill to absorb sound. Too dark with no power though. No air, either."

"Pity," Kyle sighed.

Several minutes later they found themselves standing in the back of the largest store in the outlet. It was almost completely dark with the absence of windows and electricity, but a dim light could be seen far up ahead from the front of the store. The afternoon sun would have been shining right through the front doors of the outlet, providing plenty of bright light that didn't quite make it to the back of the bigger store.

Kyle shone the light around again, and they found themselves looking at a row of all-weather sleeping bags. Long shelves stretched in both directions, under a thin layer of dust. Dust was a good thing. Dust that was undisturbed meant nobody was around, alive or not. Even better, nothing seemed out of place or strewn around in the way things were after looters finished a visit.

"We can't be that lucky," Daryl muttered.

"I'd say you're all due," Kyle said, and moved forward into the store, shining the light around as he went. A heavy, musty smell hung in the air, and Daryl stepped in a puddle just before they reached the front door. A bucket full of water sat in the middle of the floor, full to the rim from months of catching rain water from a ceiling that had probably always been leaking. They stood looking at the metal security grate, which was closed tightly and securely locked from the outside.

"Shit," said Daryl. "That ain't opening any time soon. Guess we gotta go back out, find another way in..."

"Hold up," Kyle interrupted him. Daryl glanced at him irritably and found he was looking up at the ceiling, at the air vent just over their heads. "I saw this movie once," he said, and Daryl frowned at the ceiling.

"Movie? So what?"

* * *

><p>Glenn and Andrea had immediate luck in finding a way in after climbing the fire escape to the roof. The single door leading inside was open, and the first thing they noticed was a folding chair and a white dry-erase board leaning up against one of the air vents. Empty water bottles and candy wrappers were scattered around, as if someone had spent some time sitting up there. They'd walked around and looked down at the ground on all sides, but saw no evidence of anyone who might have jumped or fallen.<p>

The stairwell was almost too narrow and had far too many dark corners for Glenn's liking, but he led the way down with as much confidence as he could muster and soon they were standing at the end of a long, narrow hallway that ran between two of the smaller stores and housed two tiny restrooms.

"Yeah," said Glenn as they stepped out onto polished marble-beige floors that looked like they had been thoroughly cleaned and waxed within the last month. "It's a mall."

Andrea followed his gaze and stared for a moment, then let out a low, agonized moan as they both stared longingly at the _Starbucks_ sign over a counter across from them. A sound of metal scraping on metal echoed somewhere behind them, and they spun around in time to see Rick push open the metal grate across the front of the smallest of the stores, which boasted _Guns 'N Ammo_ in a stylish logo across the entrance.

"Jimbo was pretty cosmopolitan guy for a redneck," T-Dog said. "I've never seen such a clean place."

"There's a sign on the ground out front," said Glenn. "Grand re-opening. Looks like they remodeled and nobody ever got to see it."

"That sucks," said T-Dog, and everyone agreed silently.

"Okay," said Rick. " I think Daryl hit the mark on this one. The ammo shop is fully stocked, and I'm guessing everything else is, too.

"We should have the others bring the Jeep and Explorer down," Andrea suggested. "Easier to load up."

"All right, but let's check every inch of this place first. Maybe the kids will want to come in and run around or something. Where are Daryl and Kyle?"

"Haven't seen them," Glenn said. "Firing range is in the back, maybe they went there first."

* * *

><p>"Do you even know where the fuck you're goin'?" Daryl growled, then coughed as more dust from the inside of the unused air ducts blew up into his face. Kyle had crawled in first, after Daryl had stupidly let him step on his back for a boost. He tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder as he slowly followed Kyle at a crawl through the ducts, all too aware that he was literally talking to his ass when he spoke.<p>

"No," Kyle hissed in a loud whisper. "Actually, I don't. I didn't think whoever built this place would design a fucking _maze_ when they installed the air ducts!"

"Asshole," Daryl growled.

"Screw you," Kyle said. "You could have waited back there. You wanna go first?"

"No, I want out. Anywhere. Just pick a grate already!"

They'd crawled for about fifty feet and then the ducts had bent sharply left before coming to the first grate. That one had opened into a locked storeroom. Daryl was already out of patience at that point and suggested they shoot the hinges off, but Kyle advised patience, swearing that there was just one wall between them and the main entrance. So back inside they went, and after a very tight and awkward shifting of limbs, shoves and curses they'd managed to turn around and get themselves pointed in the right direction.

"Don't get any ideas," Daryl growled when Kyle realized they'd made yet another wrong turn and had to squeeze right up against Daryl to turn around.

"As if I would," Kyle snorted. "I can't believe _anyone_ would."

"The fuck does_ that_ mean?" Daryl demanded.

"Nothin," Kyle stopped and slumped sideways for a moment, then sneezed twice and paused to catch his breath.

"Okay," he finally said. "This was a bad idea. I admit it. But I'm guessing we're outside the locked stores by now, so all we need is a grate."

"We passed three," Daryl snarled. "I thought you were a soldier. Don't they implant chips or some shit in your heads to keep y'all from getting lost?"

"Yeah," said Kyle. "And right now my chip is telling me to punch you in your hick mouth, shit-for-brains. You wanna lead us out of here, be my g- " The rest of his words were cut off abruptly by Daryl's sucker-punch, and his head snapped back to _bang_ against the side of the duct.

"I'll lead us out of here," Daryl said. "But you listen up, _shit-for-brains_. The only reason I ain't put a shot between your eyes yet is because you helped Lex when she needed it. But that's it. You got no points with me. So shut the fuck up and stay out of my way. Got me?"

"She must be fucking blind," Kyle said quietly as Daryl turned around on all fours and headed back towards the grate at the last junction. He stopped and looked back, and under different circumstances Kyle might have laughed at the sight of Daryl trying to look fierce and glare while in such a contorted position.

"What did you say?" Daryl said, just as quietly. Kyle spat out a bit of blood and rubbed his front teeth to make sure none were loose. Then he sighed heavily, like a boy facing an unpleasant task.

"Nothin," he said. "Ain't my business. Just lead on." Daryl didn't move, just started back at him with eyes slightly narrowed. His hand twitched towards the knife strapped to his belt, and Kyle tensed suddenly. In a closed space like this, they were matched and it would all come down to who had the bigger knife. And right now, that was Daryl.

_Oh, shit._

Suddenly their small tunnel of a world started to shake, and the sound of metal scraping against metal made them both freeze and look down at the surface beneath them, which was starting to buckle and _pop_ under their weight. They looked up at each other with mouths open, and Kyle heard himself laugh out loud just before the entire metal duct system collapsed beneath them.

The twisted screeching of metal tearing away from its supports echoed through the empty halls, but Glenn found himself directly underneath the duct-work as he searched behind the counter of the coffee shop. He scrambled over the counter, barely making it before metal panes, support wiring, narrow beams and a good portion of the ceiling came crashing down onto the floor.

"Holy shit!" he shouted, and stumbled backwards as a great cloud of dust billowed up in the wake of the somewhat spectacular crash. Almost immediately he heard the sounds of coughing, sneezing and choking, and hurried forward to stare at the mess before him. Rick and T-Dog came at a full fun, but Glenn waved at them to not start shooting as Daryl and Kyle lay under the wreckage, unable to do anything but choke on dust for a few minutes.

"Get off me," Daryl finally grunted, and shoved at Kyle.

"I think I broke my ass," he groaned, but struggled to push himself off Daryl anyway.

"I don't give a shit. Get off before someone sees us."

"Too late," said a female voice, and they both looked up to see Andrea, T-Dog and Rick all standing there, looking over the counter at them.

"Y'all just gonna stand there?" Daryl said angrily.

"That sounds all right to me," said T-Dog.

"Hold on," Rick shook his head and held back the laugh, moving around the counter to help them extricate themselves from the mess.

"Guess what I found?" Glenn piped up, and both Daryl and Kyle turned to look at him just as a flash went off. They stared at him in complete confusion until the old polaroid camera immediately ejected the photo.

"I'll fuckin' kill you," said Daryl. Glenn smiled and waved the photo in the air to dry it.

"Go call the others," Rick said to him. "After all that noise, if there are any walkers they must be deaf or locked up somewhere."

* * *

><p>"We might as well drive everything over," said Dale. "But Daryl will have to come and get the motorcycle, I can't drive that thing."<p>

"Me either," Alexis said. "I can barely sit on the back.

"Leave the Jeep here, too," Dale suggested. "Can you drive the Explorer?"

"I can drive the Jeep," said Lori. "Girls can do that kind of stuff, too."

Dale smiled broadly in that way that fathers and grandfathers did when they were proud of you, and soon they were pulling up in front of the main entrance of the outlet. Glenn was there to open the doors, although it took a few tries to push the automated doors and then to get them fully closed again.

"It's bigger than I thought," Carol said as they gathered inside. Alexis made a strange sound just then, like something between a laugh and a snort. Or maybe it was both. The sight of Daryl and Kyle, standing in the middle of the open entryway and coated from head to toe in dust was so strange and out of place that she didn't know if she should laugh or be afraid.

"Don't," Daryl said simply when she started to speak, and Glenn handed her the photo without a word.

"Are you both all right?" Carol was the one to ask. Daryl glared at Kyle, then at the floor. Kyle sneezed again, but nodded and thanked her for her concern. His formal politeness and serious expression was almost too much, and Alexis had to turn her face away to avoid laughing.

"Well," said Rick. "I guess I have good news for everyone then. Especially you two. We found four gas heater units downstairs, and they're full."

"Does that mean electricity?" Said Lori hopefully. "Is there a generator?"

"No," Rick said. "They're water heaters for the two showers at the firing range."

Everyone looked at him blankly, as if the concept was completely alien to them all, or they were just waiting for the punchline.

"Guys, there's hot water," he laughed. "Lots of it."


	17. Personal Space

**A/N:** Hey y'all. This one is pretty much all about Alexis and Daryl, since they've got some catching up to do. I do have plans for the others, which we'll definitely get to soon. SOON,I promise.

Oh yeah, and there's a whole bunch of sex in here. Just so you know.

General disclaimer is on my profile now, I'm sick of repeating myself.

* * *

><p><em>How can you see into my eyes<em>  
><em>Like open doors?<em>  
><em>Lading you down into my core,<em>  
><em>Where I've become so numb.<em>

_Without a soul,_  
><em>My spirit sleeping somewhere cold,<em>  
><em>Until you find it there and lead it back<em>  
><em>Home.<em>

_Wake me up inside._  
><em>Wake me up inside.<em>  
><em>Call my name and save me from the dark.<em>  
><em>Bid my blood to run.<em>  
><em>Before I come undone.<em>  
><em>Save me from the nothing I've become.<em>

_Now that I know what I'm without,_  
><em>You can't just leave me.<em>  
><em>Breathe into me and make me real.<em>  
><em>Bring me to life.<em>

_Wake me up inside._  
><em>Wake me up inside.<em>  
><em>Call my name and save me from the dark.<em>  
><em>Bid my blood to run.<em>  
><em>Before I come undone.<em>  
><em>Save me from the nothing I've become.<em>

_Frozen inside without your touch,_  
><em>Without your love, darling.<em>  
><em>Only you are the life among the dead.<em>  
><em>All this time I can't believe I couldn't see<em>  
><em>Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me<em>  
><em>I've been sleeping a 1000 years it seems.<em>  
><em>I've got to open my eyes to everything.<em>

_Without a thought_  
><em>Without a voice<em>  
><em>Without a soul<em>  
><em>Don't let me die here.<em>  
><em>There must be something more<em>  
><em>Bring me to life...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Personal Space<strong>

Jimbo's Range and Trading Post seemed secure enough, but Rick at first insisted that everyone group together for the night in order to better keep watch over each other. It was an opinion nobody else seemed to share, however and it quickly became clear that the need for privacy and personal space was going to outvote his call for constant vigilance. Daryl ventured outside to bring the motorcycle around to the back of building, which unfortunately attracted the attention of a few walkers off in the distance. Fears of a repeat of the events that had led to Merle Dixon being left behind in Atlanta nagged at the back of Rick's mind, but with the lack of further noise the walkers ambled away once they reached the motorcycle and found nothing of interest within reach.

The largest of the stores in the outlet was fully stocked with almost every need an outdoorsman might ever have, and if not for sobering recent events, Daryl might have been as excited as a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. But when the showers began, he and Kyle had both been encouraged to go first, mostly due to the fact that both were covered head to toe in old vent dust that made Alexis sneeze almost instantly. He knew Alexis was close to desperate in her own want of hot water and urged her to go first, but her silent appraisal of his appearance followed by a wrinkling of her nose got the point across to him clearly enough. She had looted the sporting goods store for clothing, though, and he had to admit (silently) that the thought of burning the clothes he'd now been wearing for almost two weeks straight was an appealing one. He took what she'd found for him without comment and hurried to to beat Kyle to the "men's" room so he could lock him out.

The others staked claims on their own corners of the mall/outlet for the night. It was an odd camping arrangement, but everything they needed was there for the taking, and T-Dog took the initiative with Glenn to pile everything close to the main entrance for faster loading into the vehicles in the morning. There was a large family camping display set up right in the middle of the central area of the outlet, complete with fake grass and campfire outside a large tent and two smaller pop-tents beside it. Carl and Sophie immediately claimed the two smaller tents as their own, and Carol took the larger one in order to be close to them without ruining whatever plans they had for games.

Rick and Lori staked a spot inside the guns and ammo store, laying out several sleeping bags on a corner off to the side but close to the door. Kyle grabbed a bench close to the main doors and padded it with sleeping bags so he could nap after his watch was over. Glenn and T-Dog made similar arrangements, but T-Dog was still sure spending the night in a mall would end badly and knew he wouldn't get much sleep. Alexis struggled with indecisiveness briefly, but once she spotted four crossbows of varying styles and sizes mounted on the wall in the archery section of the sporting goods store, she knew where Daryl would be spending the evening, with or without her. She grabbed two large sleeping bags and tossed them behind the sales counter with Daryl's and her own backpack, then wandered off to see what else she could find while awaiting her turn in the shower.

She came upon T-Dog and Glenn in a small employee break room, breaking into two vending machines that were fully stocked with various snacks both healthy and not so healthy. Alexis selected the highest-calorie items she could find for Lori and the kids, grabbed a couple sodas for herself and Daryl and left them to collect the rest for everyone else. Lori took what she brought for her somewhat awkwardly, understanding the reason for Alexis' attention. The quick look they exchanged told Alexis that Rick still didn't know, and it bothered her. She said nothing, only hoped silently that Lori would speak up before her body started to reveal her secret to the others.

When she returned to the sporting goods store she found Daryl standing with arms crossed as he studied the row of crossbows on the display, a thoughtful frown on his face. He turned to look at her as she came into the store and made a face when he saw she was holding two diet cokes. She shrugged, unwilling to apologize for making poor choices out of poor selections and set them down on the counter.

"If you can't decide, we could take them all," she said, gesturing at the crossbows. "I bet I could shoot that smaller one if you showed me how."

"Sure," he nodded. "But I promised you a machete for Christmas. Still shopping for that."

"Andrea says it's Christmas Eve," she said. "Last minute shopping is a bad idea these days."

He made a small sound that almost resembled a laugh and stood looking up at the display for a moment longer. The one he'd always had his eye on had been forever out of his reach for financial reasons alone. It seemed strange to know that he could just take it, and somehow disappointing. Being able to honestly buy the thing without holding up a bank first would have been a huge accomplishment, one that he would have been proud of in another life. Alexis suddenly slipped her arms around him from behind and squeezed, her forehead resting against his back.

"I missed you so much," she said simply, and didn't let go as he turned around to face her. But there it was again, the very slight but uncontrollable flinch when he slipped his arms around her and squeezed her back. She didn't pull away, but he felt her body go tense and sensed the old flight instinct was rising up in her again. _I killed you too slow, scumbag,_ he thought silently to the now-dead Zeke. She started to pull away, and he let her, but kept his hands on her upper arms. He hadn't been able to look at her without seeing Zeke's face, his intentions clearly etched on his face and twisted even further by near-insanity. The very thought that he'd have been forced to stand there and watch helplessly made his vision start to swim red every time. But now as he looked at her and saw the same realization reflected in her eyes, it made his heart twist in a way that was still somewhat unfamiliar.

He would never tell her how the expression on her face had affected him. It was only for a few moments she'd been at Zeke's mercy, and they'd stopped it before anything worse could happen... but those few moments were enough. _Never again._ He pulled her close and kissed her, and for the space of two heartbeats she kissed him back, then abruptly turned her face away with an embarrassed-sounding laugh.

"I can't," she said. "I feel like I've been dipped in the worst filth imaginable. How can you stand me?"

"How can any of us stand each other?" he smirked, and pulled her against him again. "Ain't nobody here smelled like roses for a long time now." She gave a nervous laugh and closed her eyes as he nuzzled her neck, then shivered when she felt him press something else against her. His hands slid down to her waist and his teeth grazed against her shoulder. She could feel his heart starting to beat faster and knew what he wanted. And _dammit all to hell_ if she didn't want the same thing... but...

"I can't. I'm sorry, I just..." she was dismayed to hear her voice shake very slightly. She detached his hands from her waist and deliberately stepped back out of his reach, feeling a hard stab of regret at the hurt reaction that passed over his eyes but quickly disappeared. He doesn't understand.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I feel... disgusting."

"You ain't," he said quietly, and she heard no anger in his voice but knew all to well that it was there, just beneath the surface. "But do what you gotta do, I ain't goin' nowhere." She glanced back at him once as she left the store, but he was looking up at the crossbows again as if nothing had happened.

* * *

><p>Hot water.<p>

Glorious, exquisite, precious heated running water. A thing of the past. A luxury lost but not yet forgotten. Cavemen didn't have it. Pioneers didn't need it. Pioneer women traveled through dangerous country on wooden wheels, bathed in ice cold water (still clothed for decency), cooked everything from scratch, gave birth to multiple children and worked in the fields every day. Yesterday's pioneer women were strong, tough and hard and the loss of something so trivial as hot running water would mean nothing to them.

_Bullshit. They just didn't know what they were missing._

Alexis had vague memories of washing in cold water as a young child because the broken down home she once lived in with her parents had no running water, only an old garden hose they snaked in through the back door. She didn't care then. Her mother would heat water on the stove in the winter, that was good enough. Small children aren't affected by cold water in quite the same way... but now Alexis thought she might willingly travel a hundred miles per day through walker-infested lands for the rest of her life on the promise of a hot shower alone. Hell, even warm water, lukewarm or barely body temperature would do. She had been looking forward to a lake, river, stream... anything knee-deep at the minimum would do, but this... it was almost too much.

She was the last to shower, and knowing that nobody else was waiting and wishing she'd hurry up was a relief. She knew they were leaving tomorrow, so there was no need to conserve what was left of the gas in the heaters. It was a good thing, because even though she'd turned up the water until it nearly scalded and literally scrubbed every inch of herself with generic anti-bacterial hand soap and a towel ripped into washcloth-sized pieces, she couldn't wash it off. As she scrubbed and scratched at her skin, letting hot water drip down her face in sudsy rivers, she knew it was a memory she was trying to wash away. There was nothing physical that needed to be washed off, nothing was crawling on her skin and no phantom hands touched her anywhere. But still she scrubbed and rinsed until her skin felt sore and the soap gathered around her feet.

The building had no electricity, so the two small windowless shower rooms were lit only with strategically-placed oil lamps. The last of windows and ventilation fans also meant the steam hung where it was in heavy clouds until someone opened the door. Lamplight flickered off the walls and filtered through the steam, giving the room a surrealistic, dreamlike quality. Alexis finally threw the washcloth at the shower wall in frustration and slid down until she was sitting on the floor directly under the uneven spray of hot water. She didn't want to go back to Daryl, not now, not like this. The fact that he didn't care if she was covered in dirt, blood, sweat and who knew what else was small consolation at that moment. She wondered if she was behaving irrationally again, and hated herself for it.

As she leaned her head back against the tile that was ugly and cracked in several places, she saw the light in the room beyond flicker as if someone had walked in front of it. Momentarily confused and a little flustered by the extreme heat of the water, she stared blankly then stood up quickly to reach around the threadbare and equally ugly shower curtain for her gun. A hand closed around her wrist and she nearly shouted until the voice brought her back down.

"Whoa, easy... it's me," Daryl let go of her wrist and took a step back as Alexis grabbed the shower curtain and wrapped it around herself with one had, and used the other to wipe soap out her eyes with the other.

"Holy shit, it's like a fuckin' sauna in here. What are you doing?"

"Christ, Daryl... you scared the shit out of me. What's it look like I'm doing?" She let go of the curtain and stepped back to rinse off the soap.

"I dunno. Boiling?" He leaned against the wall and peeked through the curtain at her. "You look like a lobster."

"When did you ever eat lobster?" she grumbled.

"Never," he admitted. "But that don't mean I don't know what they look like." He frowned and watched as she picked up the washcloth and pressed it against her face for a moment, then heard her mumble something through it.

"What? Hey, what's wrong with you? You're gonna burn yourself." He reached in without waiting for her answer and started to turn the water off, but she grasped his hand and pulled it away.

"I can't get it off me," she said, her words tumbling out fast and almost unintelligible.

"Get what off?" he pushed her hands away and turned the water down so it wasn't so hot.

"I feel like there's something crawling on me, ever since Harmony. All night, all day. I know there's nothing on me, I know it's in my head, and I know it will go away, but I ... I can't get it _off_."

"Can't get _what_ off?" he repeated.

She made an exasperated gesture with her hands and turned off the water, leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself as if cold, even though the room was indeed as hot as a sauna. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see Daryl staring at her like she was insane. A few seconds passed in silence, then she heard him move away. She supposed he didn't understand, and she couldn't exactly blame him. It wasn't his job to read her mind, to understand that every place on her body that Zeke had touched felt as if it had a permanent mark, like a brand permanently marking and scarring her skin.

The curtain pushed aside with a metallic jangle, and she opened her eyes in surprise as the towel she'd grabbed from the RV for herself was suddenly being wrapped around her. She took hold of the towel and held it in place as Daryl pushed her wet hair out of her face with both hands, watching as she avoided his eyes.

"What?" he said quietly. She shook her head, feeling stupid now as he slid both arms around her and pulled her closer.

"He touched me, and I can still feel it." She finally whispered. She felt his arms tighten and let her head fall against him so she could hear his heart beating.

"I was there," Daryl reminded her, his voice sounding different to her ear pressed against his chest. She could almost feel the anger rolling off him at the simple memory, and wished she could wish it away for them both.

"No," she insisted. "He... _touched_ me, Daryl." She knew she couldn't explain it any better than that, to she gave up and hoped he'd figure it out. She started to pull out of his arms so she could get dressed, but his hands tightened on her and held her in place. She stood still, almost fearful that he might demand a better explanation, and she had no desire to relive the whole thing again. But he said nothing for a few seconds, then leaned forward and kissed the right side of her neck. She let out a quick breath as he worked a gentle path up her skin and felt her pulse quicken with a mixture of fear and anticipation as his breath tickled her ear.

"I saw," he whispered. "I know what he did. If I could kill 'im again, I would. But there ain't nothin' on you that needs to be washed off. You need to forget."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you need to not care anymore."

Alexis felt the wall against her back as Daryl pressed against her, moving his lips down her neck to the hollow of her throat. She wanted to say _no,_ not because she didn't want him but because... _because why? _She let go of the towel so she could put both arms around his neck when he lifted his face to hers and kissed her more slowly and deeply than he ever had before. He was handling her like a piece of delicate glass, his hands caressing and smoothing the imaginary marks on her skin as if they could be magically erased by touch alone. The towel was pinned between them and he pushed it away as he bent his head and kissed a downward path, relishing in the taste and smell of skin that had been out of his reach for what seemed like forever.

She let her mind drift, back to the first time he'd kissed her, in the barn just after they'd killed that lunatic and his undead wife... he'd kissed her hard and with passion, as if staking a claim on her from that moment on. _Mine._ And again, in Harmony after he'd killed Zeke and learned of her plan to kill herself... _Mine._ His preferred lovemaking style was hard and a little on the rough side, and she didn't mind one bit. But the tenderness and care he showed to her now was almost overwhelming, and she felt tears threatening to rise up again when he raised his face to hers again and held her eyes with his as he slowly and gently pressed fingers against the place that bore the worst of the imaginary scars_._ Her eyes fluttered closed and he heard the telltale catch of her breath as her body responded to his touch. Her breathing quickened when he lowered his head and caught one nipple between his lips, moving his tongue to match the rhythm of fingers that moved against her in slow circles until she arched against his hand and let out her breath in a loud gasp. She reached suddenly behind him to grasp at his shirt until he let her pull it over his head. His own clothes were already wet from the steam in the room and her wet towel, and they clung to him annoyingly as they worked together to peel them off.

His skin was just as soaked and flushed as hers now, as if the physical contact with her alone made him burn. He buried his face in her neck and she made a sound deep down in her throat when he pushed inside her as slowly as he could. He moved in and out of her in careful thrusts that nearly drove him insane with impatience, but the thought of hurting her in any way at all was unspeakable. But she quickened the pace herself, one hand on his lower back to pull him against her harder and the other running into his hair and digging nails into his scalp. He reached down, slipped one hand beneath her thigh to lift her leg up and hook it around his hip, and she moaned louder than she meant to when he pushed deeper inside her. She pulled his head down so his cheek was pressed against hers when the pleasure reached that point where it was almost too much, and the sounds she made were musical bliss to his soul. They pushed him over the edge, and he felt her hand slide out of his hair to squeeze the back of his neck and hold him close until he had control of himself once again.

"Never again," he whispered, the side of his face pressed against hers again. She put both arms around his neck and he felt the dampness from the tears on her face as she finally let go of all that she'd been holding inside.

* * *

><p>An hour later, they were sitting side by side on the counter of what used to be a Starbucks, watching from a short distance as Carl and Sophie played a strange form of indoor baseball with Glenn. In place of a ball, they were using a shoe and for some reason the kids found this highly amusing. Rick and Lori sat on a bench just out of shoe range, and Carol sat across from them in a chair. Kyle and T-Dog had taken first watch on the roof just before Alexis and Daryl finally emerged from the bathroom. The adults looked at them knowingly, but nobody made a comment as they joined the group and scavenged what they could to eat from the pile of vending-machine food T-Dog collected.<p>

"You haven't said anything about Merle," she said quietly after they had eaten a package of beef jerky each and washed it down with diet soda.

"Ain't nothin' much to say," he said simply.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I know how much you care about him..."

"He made me choose," Daryl interrupted her, and she heard the edge in his voice immediately. She quickly glanced over at the others, but they were out of hearing range and hadn't noticed anything.

"He said if I helped him kill Rick and T-Dog, he wouldn't let them hurt you. He made me choose, like that was any choice at all."

"Them," Alexis repeated. "How many were there?"

"Four," he frowned at the floor. "Two of them were watchin' us in the woods that day. They told Merle and..." he shook his head and let the words drift off. Alexis saw him bite his lower lip in that way he did when he had nothing more to say.

"He told you he'd let them have me if you didn't help him," she said. He looked at her, still chewing on his lower lip, then nodded and looked away. Alexis understood now what Merle had meant when she had faced him alone in Harmony.

_You made him weak. You made him forget who he was an' where he came from. You made him forget what's_ _important_, he'd said to her. The hatred and rage burned out of his eyes and into hers, but now she looked back at him in her memory and realized that there was hurt as well. Hurt, betrayal, pain... Merle believed that Daryl had turned his back on him, that he'd chosen a woman over his own brother.

"I love you," she said quietly. "And I hate him for making you have to choose. It's not fair." He kept his face turned away from her, but he didn't argue or do anything to make her think she shouldn't have spoken. She rested her head on his shoulder and turned to watch the shoe-ball game again. After a few moments, she felt him move. He kissed the top of her head and slipped an arm behind her to squeeze her shoulder.

"Ain't nobody said that to me before," he said bluntly.

"Nobody?" she asked, a very slight frown line appearing between her brows. "Not ever?"

"Nope."

"Girlfriend? Family? Maybe a grandparent, or crazy old aunt?"

"Nope," he smiled at the crazy aunt reference, but shook his head. "There never were a lot of Dixons, y'know."

"Just you and Merle against the world," she said. He blinked and frowned slightly, but if there was any other reaction it wasn't one he allowed to show. She caught a quick glimpse of a lifetime of hard lessons and hard road behind him in his eyes. Anger and aggression that bordered on bullying were his only defenses and all he had ever really known, and she suddenly wondered if she'd crossed the line by speaking about an emotion that was possibly more alien to him than she'd realized.

"Can't say it back," he said, and turned to look her in the eye. "That ain't fair to you."

"Nothing's fair," she sighed, and tilted her head to press her lips against the side of his neck. "The kids don't even have a baseball."

Daryl made a slight grunting sound, as if he thought she wasn't getting his point, but when her teeth scraped lightly against the skin of his neck he had to do his best to repress a shiver.

"Tease," he said."Cut it out. I gotta take a watch soon."

"No, you don't," she answered. "Glenn's taking your shift. I bribed him with the last candy bar in the vending machine."

"What'ya do that for?" he half-protested.

"I'm sick of waking up alone," she said.

Moments later later, Daryl found himself flat on his back with the wind all but knocked out of him. He'd tripped over his own backpack while trying to walk backwards, kiss Alexis, remove clothes and take off his boots all at the same time. The fall was far from graceful, and they both let out a loud _ouch_ as teeth clacked together, but she landed squarely on top of him in their target zone, which was the pile of sleeping bags he'd spread out for them to sleep on when she'd left to shower.

They could hear the kids out in the small food court area whining because they didn't want to sleep, and Lori's tired voice responding with less patience than usual. But outside sounds soon faded into the background as their focus shifted to each other alone. Daryl thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life than the sight of Alexis above him, her eyes closed and face flushed above him as she took matters into her own hands -_ literally_ - and guided him inside her. He struggled to hold back as she set a smooth but firm pace, and the sudden heat flowed through him. Just when he thought he couldn't hold back any longer, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear even as she ran her tongue along the edge.

"I won't break," she said. It was all he needed to hear. In one quick motion, he grabbed her roughly around the waist and flipped her sideways so she was on her back. She bit her lips to stifle a near-scream as he thrust into her hard_ - mine - _ and time immediately slipped away along with the rest of the world around them.

* * *

><p>The night passed uneventfully for those on watch. Kyle remained vigilant on his bench-bed close to the entrance, sitting motionlessly as an occasional walker shambled bast the entrance. Several had gathered in the parking lot during the night, perhaps attracted by the previous engine noise or possibly just rambling onto someplace else. T-Dog watched them from the roof, but didn't raise an alarm until several more suddenly shuffled into view from around the side and he realized they were starting to gather around the RV, which was parked at the front of the building.<p>

"Shit," he said out loud. "They can probably smell the stinky thing. Nobody ever listens to me."

He hurried down the roof access stairs and was startled when Glenn opened the fire door at the bottom, nearly hitting him.

"There's walkers out front," he reported, passing Glenn without slowing down. "Too many for my liking." Kyle was standing in front of the glass doors, looking out at the gathering crowd with a frown and they hurried to join him.

"We better wake the others," he said. "If more come it'll make getting to the vehicles impossible."

"Do you think it's one of those herd-things?" Glenn asked.

"Could be," Kyle said. "Doesn't look like it, though."

"That RV ain't exactly fresh," said T-Dog. "I bet they smell people."

"Could be," Kyle chuckled. "Where's Rick?"

"Gun shop," said Glenn. "Somebody wake Daryl and Alexis, too. And no, I'm not doing it. He's bigger than me."

"Everyone's bigger than you," T-Dog muttered.

"I'll get them," said Kyle. "Glenn, wake the others. T-Dog, shout if any of them so much as even look at you."

Glenn was already moving off at a run, and Kyle crossed the short distance to the sporting goods store. He paused in the doorway and listened, knowing full well they'd both react unpleasantly if he interrupted them doing anything other than sleeping. But as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the store, he spotted Daryl standing next to the counter. Two crossbows were on the floor, leaning upright against the counter and a third sat on top. Daryl was looking right at him.

Kyle gave a silent sigh of relief, glad he didn't have to wake them, and started to speak. Daryl shushed him with one finger and gestured at the counter. Kyle approached and peered over to see Alexis sound asleep in a sleeping bag behind the counter.

"Walkers outside," Kyle said quietly. "A dozen, and they're gathering around the RV." He watched as Daryl immediately picked up the crossbow on the counter and fitted an arrow into place with an expression bordering on happy. Kyle leaned sideways so light from outside fell on the weapon and allowed him a good look at it.

"Nice toy," he said. "Expensive. Happy now?"

They both looked out the door as Rick appeared, hurrying towards the entrance and strapping his gun belt as he ran. Kyle glanced towards Alexis again but Daryl stepped in front of him as if to block his view.

"I'll wake her. Any walkers out back?" Kyle shook his head, then remembered Daryl had parked the motorcycle in the back so it would be sheltered from any weather under the overhang in the loading bay. Interesting. He hadn't even thought of that.

Daryl set down the crossbow and walked around the counter as Kyle left to make sure everyone was up and ready to go. He stood looking down at her for a moment, loathing the idea of having to wake her up and leave in a hurry. She was lying on her right side facing the locked back of the display counter, having not moved from the position she'd finally fallen asleep in just a few hours before. Daryl knelt down behind her and she stirred when he kissed her cheek, then her neck, and when she turned onto her back with a sleepy smile, her mouth.

"No," she mumbled. "Why does it feel so early?"

"It's early," he said. "But walkers don't sleep in."

"No."

"Yeah. Come on, get up. Lex... there's a buncha walkers outside. We have to go before more come."

She rubbed her eyes and looked at him, then scrambled to get up and find her clothes when she realized he was serious. He dug around in the makeshift bed and helped her locate things, then gathered up their packs as she rubbed her eyes tiredly again and started to awkwardly roll up the sleeping bags.

"Leave them," he said. "There's plenty more waiting to be loaded into the vehicles." She frowned as he shouldered both of their packs and picked up two crossbows, then nudged the third with his foot. She picked it up, still holding her boots in one hand and started towards the door. She stopped short when he moved to block her way and looked up at him in surprise.

"That's yours," he said, gesturing back at the counter with a nod. She turned around and looked, not knowing exactly what to look for, then laughed in spite of the grogginess that still had hold of her when she saw what lay there. The machete's blade was twenty-two inches long and the sheath made of black leather with a loop for her belt. When she picked it up she found the grip fit her hand perfectly.

"Merry Christmas," said Daryl. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

By the time everyone was organized to go, a crowd of well over a dozen walkers had formed in front of the building. They formed an impenetrable wall between them and the vehicles, and T-Dog again reminded them all that this is what happened when you spent the night in a mall.

"Everyone get back," said Rick. "Away from the windows and stay out of sight."

"We have to draw them away from the RV," said Kyle. He glanced at Daryl, who had set everything he was carrying down next to the doors and withdrew with the others, holding one of the new crossbows. Alexis was sitting on the floor next to him, putting on her boots and blinking at the bright morning light.

"That's almost obvious," Rick agreed. He glanced at Lori as she approached, and Alexis saw both of them shift their eyes away from each other immediately. Lori's were red and bore clear evidence of tears during the night. _Uh oh. She told him..._

"Who's got an idea?" Dale asked, and Kyle nodded at Daryl.

"He does, and Lex is going to hate it."

Everyone turned to look at Daryl, who blinked at Kyle, then glared at him.

"You're an asshole, you know," he said simply.

"So I hear," said Kyle.

"Excuse me," said Alexis. "I'm in the room."

"What idea?" Rick said impatiently.

"I parked the bike out back last night," Daryl explained. "It's loud as hell, if the back is clear I can draw them away from the doors so y'all can get out."

"You're right, I hate it," said Alexis. "Daryl, you've got no protection on that thing. If you let even one of them get too close you could be in trouble. What if you have to get through a bunch of them?"

"She's right about that," said Dale. "In the RV, even in the Jeep we're protected enough to get past a group. But that's not something you can do on on that thing."

"I ain't goin' through a _group_," Daryl said as if that should have been obvious. "Just get their attention. Y'all can do the heavy plowing in the RV, and I'll catch up on the road."

"It's dangerous," said Andrea. "But if we cover him from the roof, he should be okay." Kyle looked at her and nodded, in full agreement.

"And who's going to cover you guys when you want to get off the roof?" said Alexis.

"I was kind of hoping you all would," said Kyle. "But I won't take it personally if you don't want to. How's this... Daryl does the Pied Piper thing and we cover him from the roof. If it doesn't work, he stays clear until we figure something else out. If it _does_, we clear out the ones in front who don't follow him and you guys make a run for it. Then you drive the RV around to the fire escape and Andrea and I can climb down to you."

Everyone considered for a moment, and Alexis stood up and folded her arms in that way she did when she was feeling stubborn about something. Daryl gave the back of her neck a little squeeze but didn't bother trying to convince her otherwise.

"Guys, the longer we stand here the worse it could be," said Glenn. "I think it'll work. We should do it."

"Okay," said Rick. "If you all agree, we'll do it."

"I don't," said Alexis, but sighed in resignation as Daryl's hand on the back of her neck pulled her slightly sideways and she leaned her head against his. "But obviously I'm outvoted."

Kyle and Andrea gathered the two sniper rifles and sprinted for the stairwell, and Daryl took a moment to settle the crossbow's carrying strap across his back. Alexis took the smaller of the two packs and emptied it of a few things, then added as many arrows as she could fit into it and held it as he slipped one arm through the straps.

"Don't you fucking dare disappear on me again," she said, and he saw the old worry line between her brows again.

"Ain't gonna happen," he said, and turned to Rick. "I ain't stayin' clear if it don't work. They can cover me to the back door again."

"Be careful, man," said T-Dog. "It ain't always the black dude that gets killed in the movies first."

"Whatever, Ving."

Alexis sighed in exasperation as Daryl gave her hair a tug and headed towards the back of the building at a run, then turned to see Glenn grinning at her.

"He looks happy," he said.

"Dixons never look happy," she said.

"Yeah, well he does today. So do you."

"I'm not," she said, and fumbled to unbuckle her belt so she could strap the machete in place. She looked up at the glass doors, at the walkers crowded two deep outside and tried not to think about the possibility that she might have to cut a path through them very soon.

"_That_ does not make me happy."

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Evanescence, _Wake Me Up_


	18. On the Road Again

**A/N:** Hello everyone. Apologies for the lack of updates. Just a fair warning, the silly season will be upon us soon and I might be absent for unpredictable periods of time. Please know that I am always thinking about writing and will whenever I can. That being said, I see some new readers are here. Welcome and thank you for reviewing!

**Azalia Fox Knightling**: THANK YOU so much. I'm not familiar with the Newsflesh trilogy, but I will check it out.

**musicforsanity** Thanks for your comments over on _Road to Nowhere_... I keep meaning to go back and read the whole thing from start to finish just to refresh the vision... if that makes any sense. And I'd rather be book worthy, but if TWD needs writers, I'll gladly jump up and down wave my arms and be annoying until somebody notices me :)

**ChildlikeEmpress**sex scenes are ridiculously awkward for me, but I thought they were due. And yeah, the mall... I really didn't want to depend on DotD too much. It is by far one of my favorite zombie flicks ever, so I absolutely had to give it a shout out, but the mall has already been done and I don't want to re-do. I have other plans. :)

**K**- MACHETE. I was kind of mad at myself for forgetting about it back in Atlanta. My bad.

**JoanieNobody** I aims to please. :D

**ChaoticxTheoreticals** - Don't let real life get you down.

**GingerGidget, Nelle07, xXBXx, AvidReaderWolf** ... glad you like. Enough sweet, though. This story needs more violence. I've got some ideas...

* * *

><p><em>I see the bad moon arising <em>  
><em>I see trouble on the way<em>  
><em>I see earthquakes and lightnin'<em>  
><em>I see bad times today <em>

_Don't go around tonight_  
><em>Well it's bound to take your life<em>  
><em>There's a bad moon on the rise <em>

_I hear hurricanes ablowing_  
><em>I know the end is coming soon <em>  
><em>I fear rivers overflowing<em>  
><em>I hear the voice of rage and ruin<em>

_Don't go around tonight_  
><em>Well it's bound to take your life <em>  
><em>There's a bad moon on the rise <em>

_Hope you got your things together _  
><em>Hope you are quite prepared to die <em>  
><em>Looks like we're in for nasty weather <em>  
><em>One eye is taken for an eye<em>

_Don't go around tonight_  
><em>Well it's bound to take your life <em>  
><em>There's a bad moon on the rise...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>On the Road Again<strong>

"Ah, shit." Kyle muttered to himself as his first shot completely missed its target, which was the walker closest to Daryl when he started up the motorcycle. Andrea glanced at him sideways, then aimed carefully and took the shot herself, saving Daryl the trouble of fumbling for his crossbow. Daryl glanced up at the roof with a stormy glare as the walker dropped from a clean head shot right in front of him, then adjusted the crossbow on his back and tucked his only handgun into the front of his pants for easier reach.

"I hope you didn't do that on purpose," Andrea said, and turned to run towards the side of the building to watch as Daryl pulled out into the lot and paused to look at the front of the building. She stood watching with the weapon ready in case any more got too close to him, but he was holding the motorcycle in gear and balancing lightly with his feet so he could move quickly if any drew close. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Daryl revved the engine hard, and suddenly two walkers appeared from the front of the building and shuffled towards him. Then another, and another... and another. Suddenly a crowd of at least ten of them was heading straight for him, and more were gathering from the road beyond.

"Um, it's working," said Kyle. "A little better than I thought." He ran towards the front of the building and looked down as Daryl revved the engine again to draw more of them away. Only about a dozen lingered in the front, and these seemed determined to get inside. Kyle pointed his weapon down, the angle awkward, and fired at the only two that had not moved under the roof overhang and out of his reach. Out in the parking lot, Daryl fired two shots at the closest walkers, then moved away from the advancing crowd.

"Hey, ugly!" Kyle shouted, and his voice drew the attention of a few walkers in front. "Yeah, you! Look up here!"

Inside, Rick peered around the doorway of the shop closest to the main entrance and watched as about half of the walkers shambled away, craning their necks up to look towards Kyle as he shouted insults at them. Once they were out from under the overhang, he shot them cleanly through the head one at a time.

"It's working," said Dale, standing just behind him.

"Yeah," said Rick. "For now." Daryl was making so much noise on the motorcycle any more walkers in the area were bound to come, but as long as they were on the road by then Rick didn't care. T-Dog had luckily backed the Explorer up close to the door, which would make it easier to load in the supplies they'd collected.

"Everybody grab something," Rick turned to the group. "Only what you can carry, and go straight to the RV. T-Dog and Glenn, load what's left into the Explorer. I'll cover from here and then go for the Jeep. Lori - "

"We're coming with you," she said. He paused, looked at her and then down at Carl before nodding once.

"Give me the keys," Alexis poked T-Dog, and he fished them from his pocket and handed them to her. The group took a collective breath, prepared to run or fight, and looked at the door.

"Open it," Rick said to Glenn.

Across the parking lot, Daryl squinted down the barrel of the gun and squeezed off another shot, then scrambled to move again as the walker fell and more drew closer. It was a strange game of cat and mouse, only in this case it was _cats_, and they moved a lot slower. He pulled away fast enough to stay out of reach, but stopped again to keep their attention and give them time to catch up. The road lay behind him, about fifty yards away, and his intention was to be on it as soon as the others pulled away.

"Come on," Daryl muttered as he looked back towards the building. He was too far away to be able to do anything fast if something went wrong. Kyle and Andrea were picking off walkers from the roof just as planned, and Andrea had positioned herself behind Kyle, which meant she could shoot him if he tried something funny. Daryl saw no reason to trust their newest companion, and after his comments in the air vents the day before, he trusted him even less.

"Finally," he grumbled as the front door slid open and Dale appeared in the doorway with a baseball bat held in both hands, Lex right behind him. Daryl scooted the motorcycle back another short distance, putting an abandoned car between himself and the crowd of walkers before looking back towards the others again.

"Go! Dale shouted, and swung hard at the closest walker like a major league ballplayer hitting one out of the park. Alexis scooted past him and dodged the walker as it stumbled and fell. Dale swung downward, and Lex quickened her pace as the skull caved in and blood splattered on her ankles. Above and behind, she heard the muffled thumps of Kyle's sniper rifle and knew that he wasn't missing by the wet sounds of bullets striking skulls around her. She wasted no time watching, just ran around to the driver's side of the Explorer and pulled at the handle only to find it locked.

"Are you shitting me? You_ locked_ it?" she shouted back At T-Dog, who was running towards her with both arms full of sleeping bags and various camping supplies. She fumbled with the keys as he dropped the first load on the ground behind the Explorer. Carol ran past them with Sophie, heading straight for the side door on the RV. Rick passed them on the other side, heading to the Jeep with Lori and Carl right behind him.

"Were you afraid a walker might _steal_ it?" Alexis snapped as he ran back for the next load, leaving Glenn standing there uncertainly with his own arms full. Alexis unlocked the door, then ran around to open the hatchback for him, and they threw items into the back of the Explorer without bothering to even try organizing.

Kyle shouted a warning from the roof, and Alexis looked up to see him waving across the parking lot towards Daryl. She couldn't see him because the RV was in the way, but she heard the motorcycle rev up and accelerate, and knew he was driving away. Dale started the RV, and T-Dog grabbed the keys to the Explorer out of her hand and ran to the driver's side. The Jeep was already moving past them, and Alexis almost laughed at how well the plan worked.

"Let's get out of here," she said to Glenn, and they both reached up to grab the hatchback and slam it shut. The RV was already moving away, leaving Alexis and Glenn in the open behind the Explorer.

"Watch it!" Andrea shouted from the roof, and Glenn spun around as three walkers ambled towards them, having been out of sight and the line of fire behind the RV until it moved.

"Shit!" Glenn shouted as the walkers moved forward, cutting off his path to the passenger side door.

"Get in!" Alexis shoved him, and he hesitated for only a split second before climbing into the back of the Explorer. He shouted at Alexis as she slammed the door shut the moment he was in and turned towards the walkers with the machete in hand. She was almost frightened by the odd, exhilarating rush of adrenaline that put a familiar strength into her arms as she swung it hard at the closest one. She was vaguely aware of the rough sound of a motorcycle engine approaching again, and heard T-Dog shouting at her to get in the damn truck.

"Dammit," Kyle hissed, lowering his weapon. Alexis was too close to the walkers for him to shoot at them without the risk of hitting her. But as he watched he realized that she didn't seem to need his help, not at that moment anyway. He blinked in surprise as the head of the first walker went flying with a spray of dark reddish-black blood. T-Dog pulled the Explorer forward and backed it towards her, running down two more walkers as she took down another, and then lunged at the next one. She hacked at it with surprising energy, and when it fell forward she decapitated it with two hard chops to the back of the neck. T-Dog leaned on the horn but she ignored it. Daryl finally pulled right up next to her and shouted at her angrily. She responded by kicking the walker's head away, its jaw still moving as it tried futilely to bite her, and climbed onto the motorcycle behind him.

"Come _on!_" Andrea shouted, and Kyle turned to see her already climbing down the fire escape ladder to the RV waiting below. The roar of the motorcycle engine pulling out of the parking lot kept the walkers' attention even though Daryl had abandoned the cats-and-mouse game altogether. Kyle grabbed his duffel bag, skipped the ladder and jumped the one-story distance to the roof of the RV, then jumped to the ground and climbed in through the passenger side door ahead of Andrea. He squeezed between the seats and headed into the back so she could take the passenger's seat.

"Get us out of here," he said breathlessly to Dale, and dropped the bag onto the floor so he could hold onto the back of Andrea's seat as Dave all but floored the gas pedal. Moments later, they caught up to the others, who had pulled over in a line to wait for them to catch up. Dale honked the horn and waved out the window at them, and Daryl pulled back out onto the road with Alexis still riding on the back. Dale followed, and soon they were on the road again in a familiar formation.

Dale glanced down at the gas gauge, knowing that the question of how far they would get was the biggest one now, as every vehicle had only a half tank of gas apiece and there were still many miles ahead. He glanced at Andrea, who had turned in her seat to hand Kyle the rifle.

"Everybody okay?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"Yes Dale," she smiled. "I'm fine."

* * *

><p>An hour later, they found themselves passing through the outskirts of a town whose name would likely never be known again, when Alexis spotted a convenience store that still had all its windows intact. It was one of those rare signs that it had not been struck by looters, and everyone was on the edge of starving so they stopped without much debate. Conversation was almost nonexistent as they gathered for an unplanned but welcome meal break. Kyle helped Carol and Glenn pack up boxes of anything edible and unspoiled, while Alexis and Daryl emptied the non-working refrigerator units of every bottle of water in sight and packed them into the back of the Explorer, the RV and anyplace that had any room to spare. Daryl elbowed her once to draw her attention to the fact that he was slipping a bottle of Southern Comfort into her backpack, and she held up a bottle of red wine in reply.<p>

After everything had been packed away, everyone paused to feast on canned tuna, snack crackers and the ever-present beef jerky washed down with water that was at least clean if not cold. Glenn spread a map on the ground so everyone could gather around and see. Alexis sat next to him and let Carol check the bandage on her leg, and Daryl crouched behind them both, peering over their shoulders so he could see the route they were discussing. Rick joined them after having a brief, whispered discussion with Lori and knelt on the ground in front of them. Kyle and Dale wandered over to listen, and Andrea climbed up to sit on the hood of the Explorer. T-Dog was on top of the RV, watching the road beyond with binoculars.

"I guess this is that lake Daryl was talking about," said Glenn, pointing out a spot on the map. Daryl nodded, and Dale leaned forward to get a closer look.

"It's part of a wildlife refuge," Dale said. "Okefenokee. I've been there, it's mostly wetlands. Swamp, mostly, but there's some fishing, too. Okefenokee crosses into Florida, but some of the rivers run East to Savannah and the coast."

"Lots of room to camp, and wildlife means food," Rick rubbed his chin thoughtfully and glanced at Lori, who was sitting on the lower step of the RV with her eyes closed and head resting against the doorjamb.

"Swamp means gators," Daryl said. "We keep clear of the swamps they shouldn't bother us, but this ain't the mountains. Snakes, too."

"You said I could have alligator soup," Alexis was gingerly touching the cauterized wound on her leg, which was still as ugly as ever but beginning to heal slowly. Rick regarded her injury briefly then studied the map again. Malnutrition was becoming a problem for everyone. It meant they would be more prone to illness, wounds would heal slowly if at all, fatigue, dehydration... he watched as Carol smoothed the bandage over Alexis' leg and got up to check on the children.

"Listen," Rick said quietly. "We were going to tell everyone tonight, but now works too. Lori's pregnant. I have to find someplace where she'll be safe... where we'll _all_ be safe. We're not going to last out here on the road. We need food, shelter and a good water source. All of us."

He focused his gaze on the map and tried to ignore the silence as everyone absorbed what he'd just said, then looked up at their faces. Glenn was staring blankly as if Rick had just announced that aliens had landed. Daryl was frowning at the ground thoughtfully, and Alexis met Rick's gaze directly, then nodded once at him. He realized she already knew, and wondered how long Lori had known.

"How long?" Andrea asked quietly, and Rick shrugged.

"Hard to say. A month, a little more"

"Stress, poor nutrition, lack of sleep," Alexis sighed. "I bet not a single woman here has had a regular monthly bill in a very long time, if I may be so blunt." Daryl glanced at her quickly as if a thought had just occurred to him, then he turned to look at Lori with a serious frown.

"You may," Rick smirked. "And you're right. Her guess is as good as mine. She's already sick in the mornings, and it'll get worse if she can't eat regularly and rest."

Alexis looked down at the map at the wildlife refuge Glenn had pointed out. People had lived there, she supposed, and for all they knew people might still live there. As much as she knew Rick was right, Alexis was more concerned about the people who might dwell there.

"I know everyone remembers the last time we visited a wildlife refuge," she said quietly. "Gators might not be the biggest threat."

"What happened last time?" Kyle asked. "Or maybe this is a campfire story."

"Oh yeah," said Glenn. "A long one."

"If we're votin' I vote we go," Daryl interrupted. "We can hunt, there's waterfowl and small animals. Fish in the lake, too and as long as it ain't swamp water we can drink it. We'll have ever'thing we need."

"What about walkers?" Glenn asked. "They weren't a problem in the mountains, but it was colder up there. We're heading deeper South, there's no winter cold to slow them down."

"I imagine a swamp would slow them down," Dale said. "But there's a visitor's center, cabins. We can find better shelter than just tents."

"Just so you know," Daryl stood up straight with a sigh, and held a hand down to Alexis to help her get to her feet. "That's also black bear country."

"Gators, bears, poisonous snakes," Glenn muttered as he started folding the map. "You'd make a shitty travel agent."

"Is it worth the risk?" Andrea frowned. "I mean, are we really going to have to worry about large predators on top of walkers?"

"No," Daryl insisted. "They're jus' animals. We leave them alone, they leave us alone."

"I'm inclined to agree," said Rick. "And the bear problem wasn't a problem before. Anyone object?"

"Yes," said Alexis. "But only because of the snakes. I'm tired of the road, too."

As everyone prepared to leave again, Alexis didn't miss the fact that everyone was looking at Lori without actually looking at her. She hoped nobody would resort to uncouth gossip, and couldn't imagine that Rick was completely unaware of the thoughts on everyone's mind, including her own. She looked around for Daryl and found him crouched on the ground next to the motorcycle with a wrench from Dale's tool kit in one hand. But he was looking right at her with a thoughtful expression instead of actually working on the engine. As she drew closer to him, the thoughtful expression deepened into a frown.

"What?" she asked. "Something wrong?"

"Nah," he said. "Not really."

"Don't give me that," she said as she leaned against the motorcycle, and he gave her a half smile back, then turned his attention to his work.

"It's nothin'," he mumbled.

"If there's an_ it_, then it's something. Which means it's not _nothing_," she said, and he gave her that look, the one that meant he thought she was losing it.

"Woman, you say the dumbest shit sometimes," he said. "Ask me again later. I gotta fix this thing or we might be pushin' it all the way to Okefenokee."

"Can I help?"

"Nope."

"Can I stand here and annoy you, then?"

"I have a choice?"

"Nope."

* * *

><p>They reached the main entrance of Okefenokee Wildlife Refuge just before dark. Under Dale's direction, they followed the cypress-tree lined road and found the visitor's center in no time. It was a spacious cedar-sided two-story building that housed (according to the brochure Glenn found in a rack outside the door) a bookstore, a gift shop, historical museum pieces and art exhibits, several offices and on-site staff living quarters.<p>

Upon venturing inside, they found the main entryway was large and circular with flagstone floors and a high ceiling. A totem pole stood in the center, towering all the way up and stopping just in front of a small round window set up high against the sloping ceiling. Its glaring appearance was almost forbidding and eerie in the waning daylight. Two public-use computer stations stood off to the left side. An old fashioned jukebox stood between them, looking ridiculously out of place, and an old log cabin exhibit stood at the far wall across from the main doors, complete with rocking chair and a wax figure of a turn-of-the-century settler.

It was tacky, too open and generally a little bit creepy given the fact that the nature of their visit was not for educational or vacation purposes. The on-site staff living quarters were actually three small rooms in the left wing of the building with two bunk beds each and a tiny bathroom situated centrally. Alexis thought the bunk beds were a party waiting to happen for the kids, but both were so drawn and tired from the road they barely seemed to notice. The right wing had an enclosed sun porch that opened out onto a flagstone patio enclosed by a high cedar fence and gate, upon which a gaudy "no entry" sign with a picture of an alligator's open jaws was clearly displayed.

Alexis peered through the glass door at the patio, thinking it might be almost luxurious to sit outside in one of the redwood chairs and listen to the tree frogs as they celebrated life in the swamp. But as she pressed against the door and cautiously turned the handle, a sudden hiss and rush of movement right outside the door made her jump backwards. When she stepped forward again to look, an adult alligator perhaps five feet long was moving away from the door with surprising speed, its tail swishing back and forth as it put distance between itself and her as quickly as possible. She watched, completely fascinated by its odd gracefulness as it headed straight for a large hole that appeared to have been dug under the fence not far from the "No Entry" sign.

"Alligators don't read signs," said a voice, and Alexis glanced sideways and stepped away slightly as she realized Kyle had quite suddenly appeared beside her to look out the window beside the door.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she said, a touch of ice in her voice.

"I wasn't sneaking," he said. "I just didn't announce my presence."

"Well, start announcing," she said, her eyes going past him towards the main part of the building where the others were. "Because it wasn't long ago that you were supposed to kill me. I'm not completely over that."

"Fair enough," he said. "But I'm not going to start wearing a bell around my neck."

Alexis shifted, feeling a touch of discomfort as he studied her without expression. Alone in the hallway with this man who was still a total stranger to her between her and the exit was less than comfortable, and she let her hand brush against the hilt of the sheathed machete.

"Excuse me," she said pointedly, and glanced past him at the doorway to the main lobby again.

"I'm not on a mission anymore, Alexis," he said quietly. "I don't blame you if you don't trust me, and if you want me to leave just say the word, and I'll leave. I mean that."

"Okay, good," she said. "But _I'd_ like to leave now, if that's okay. So please move."

Kyle studied her in silence for a few seconds longer, not moving from where he stood. Alexis lifted her chin stubbornly and returned his stare, but soon found she had to look away from him, which she knew was betraying her nervousness. He frowned slightly and started to speak, but was interrupted as a third voice joined them.

"Did'ya hear what she said?" Daryl's voice echoed off the stone floor and bare walls, startling Alexis. "She said _move_."

Kyle immediately blinked and then stepped to the side, and Alexis hurried forward to where Daryl stood in the doorway. She slipped past him with a very slight shake of her head, and Daryl turned to glare at Kyle.

"I'm sorry," Kyle said. "I didn't mean to - " he stopped talking as Daryl came forward, stormy intent brewing behind his eyes.

"Daryl, _don't_," Alexis said, but they both ignored her.

"Listen Rambo," he said, stepping right up into the other man's face until their noses almost touched. "I don' give two shits who you are or how good you are at kickin' other people's asses. You stay away from her, or I'll guaran-fuckin-tee you a _world_ of pain. Understand?"

They stood nose-to nose for a moment, and Alexis held her breath as she watched. The last thing this group needed was a testosterone-fueled pissing match, but Daryl couldn't _not_ be Daryl and she frankly didn't feel the need to defend Kyle too much just yet.

"Please," she said quietly, her voice carried clearly by the acoustics of wood-panel walls and flagstone floors. "I'm too tired to break up a fight, guys." Neither of them moved for a full five count, and then Daryl took a step back, then another, eyes still fixed on Kyle's.

Kyle said nothing as Daryl turned his back on him and walked away, following Alexis back to the main part of the building to join the others.

"What the hell was that?" Daryl turned the storm towards her as soon as they were out of his sight. "You're out of my sight for five minutes and he gets in your face? What was he doin'?"

"I don't know," she glanced back towards the hallway. "I didn't think he was _doing_ anything, but... I don't know. He said he'd leave if I wanted him to."

"So tell 'im to leave," Daryl said immediately. "I'll sleep better."

They were standing in the middle of the main room now, and Alexis looked up at the totem pole with a slight grimace.

"Yeah, I know," said Daryl. "Ugliest thing I ever saw. Lex... listen. I don't trust that guy. He ain't right. If he ain't leavin' then you don't let him near without anyone else around. Understand?"

"Yessir," she drawled back at him, and patted the machete handle. "But I do hope you don't really think me completely defenseless."

"No ma'am," he couldn't help the slight smile that tugged at his lips. "I saw what you did to them walkers. Almost scared_ me_."

"What scared you?" T-Dog came out of the left corridor, looking up at the totem pole. The moon had risen above the swamp, full and unnaturally big in the quiet night sky, and the light it cast through the window up high made the totem pole look even creepier.

"That thing? Damn. Who wouldn't be scared? We killed two walkers out in the side lot, I think they were park rangers or something. Rick wants to stay here tonight and start scouting for a better place tomorrow."

"I saw an alligator on the patio," Lex said. "Maybe with no people around they're spreading out more."

"Nah, Glenn says there's an alligator exhibit in the swamp right back there," T-Dog said, nodded at Rick as he came in with Dale right behind him. "They're raised in captivity and fenced in."

"Which means nobody's been feedin' them for a long time," Daryl concluded. "Musta got hungry an' found a way out."

"They did," said Rick. "We were just down there. The boardwalk tour goes into the swamp for miles, but the fences are down everywhere. Not safe here, the captive 'gators who survived are way too familiar with humans. We'll start scouting tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

><p>Everyone gathered in the left wing, aside from Kyle and Rick who took the first watch together. There were enough bunk beds for everyone, but after one look at the narrow, well-used mattresses on the bunk beds, Alexis claimed one of the two offices and spread sleeping bags on the floor for herself and Daryl. Lori and Rick took the other office while Carol bunked with the kids. Glenn chose to wander through the bookstore rather than sleep right away, but T-Dog was more exhausted than he'd let on after a very long sleepless night at the mall and was asleep almost immediately in one of the two remaining empty bunk-rooms.<p>

"I think everybody forgot that today is Christmas," Alexis said as she pulled her boot off with a sigh and lay back on the sleeping bags. "I never really cared about it myself, but I thought the kids would have said something."

Daryl shrugged and watched her for a moment while she fiddled with the bandage on her leg, peeked under it and straightened it with another tired sigh. He was sitting on the narrow couch, rubbing oil on the crossbow's springs by oil-lamplight and - Alexis suspected - just admiring it in general.

"Stay out of the swamp until that heals," he advised, gesturing at her leg. "It might not ever heal if it gets soaked in swampwater."

"I don't know what makes you think I have any intention of jumping in the swamp," Alexis said. "But I'll keep that in mind."

"I was just sayin'," Daryl shook his head and set the crossbow aside. Alexis was lying flat on her back, looking up at the dark ceiling. Daryl watched as her eyes closed for a few moments, then she sighed and pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him.

"Are you going to tell me, or do I really have to drag it out of you?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled off his own boots.

"Tell you what?" He got down on the floor with a slight groan from the stiffness in tired muscles, but managed to lay next to her without too much effort.

"What were you thinking about back at the store?" she said. "You said it was nothing, which always means it's something."

"Don't start that again," he glanced at her pack, wondering if he should break out the bottle of So Co. "When Rick told us about Lori, it just... I dunno. It kinda threw me off a bit."

"I'm sure everyone's wondering if it's Rick's baby or... someone else's," Alexis said, her voice much lower just in case the walls were thinner than they looked.

"Yeah," Daryl frowned. "But that ain't nobody's business. Jus' made me think of somethin' I ain't thought of before."

"What?" Alexis sat up completely so she could look at him, and was surprised to see that he looked very uncomfortable with the subject, whatever it was. "Come on, spit it out. What's bugging you?"

"Allright," he scowled and rubbed his eyes. "You and me haven't really, I mean... we haven't really been... _careful_. You know?"

Alexis blinked at him, not understanding.

"Careful," she repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"Aren't women supposed to have some kinda intuition or somethin'? Come on, don't make me spell it out."

"But I don't... ohhh... _careful_. Well, Daryl... it's a little late to think about _birth control_ now, don't you think?" She wanted to laugh when he flinched at her direct phrasing, but he was looking at her with such seriousness that she couldn't bring herself to torment him too much.

"I'm not pregnant, if that's what you're asking." she said in a gentler tone.

"I didn't think you were," he said. "I was just sayin' you know... it _could_ happen if we ain't more careful."

"Daryl," she said. "It's okay. You don't have to worry about it."

"I ain't _worried_," he insisted. "Okay maybe I am, but I jus' don't want ya to think I'm being an asshole or somethin'."

"Daryl," she said. "I can't have kids."

"Who the fuck would _want_ to now?" he said. "I mean, we can barely feed the two kids in this group, let alone a ... um... what?"

"I can't have kids," she said again. "As in, I'm incapable. The plumbing doesn't work."

"Oh," he shut his mouth abruptly, feeling immensely stupid and more than a little humiliated. "Well, I feel like a complete douchebag now."

"Don't," she laughed. "It's not your fault."

She laid back down on her side so she was facing him, and propped herself up on one elbow.

"We missed at least two weeks' worth of questions," she said, and yawned a huge yawn as he reached out an arm so she could get closer and rest her head on his shoulder. "You can ask me one before I fall asleep if you like."

"Nope," he said. "I'll ask tomorrow. You'll be asleep in five minutes."

He was wrong this time, she was out cold in less than two minutes, before he'd even finished pulling the top sleeping bag over her shoulders.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Creedence Clearwater Revival, _Bad Moon Rising_


	19. Bless the Beasts and the Children

Hi everyone. Sorry for the long wait, it's busy time again. Hope this beast makes up for the wait...

* * *

><p><em>You, who are on the road must have a code that you can live by<br>And so become yourself because the past is just a good bye  
>Teach your children well,their fathers' hell did slowly go by,<br>And feed them on your dreams  
>the one they picked, the one you're known by.<br>Don't you ever ask them why  
>if they told you you would cry<br>So just look at them and sigh  
>and know they love you.<em>

_And you, of the tender years can't know the fears that your elders grew by_  
><em>And so please help them with your years, they seek the truth before they can die.<em>  
><em>Teach your parents well, their children's hell will slowly go by,<em>  
><em>And feed them on your dreams<em>  
><em>the one they picked, the one you're known by.<em>  
><em>Don't you ever ask them why<em>  
><em>if they told you, you would cry,<em>  
><em>So just look at them and sigh<em>  
><em>and know they love you...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Bless the Beasts and the Children<strong>_  
><em>

_Reverend Jeremiah Mayfield didn't believe in doctors. He put no faith in the workings of modern medicine or the ability of a mortal man to heal sickness or at the very least diagnose illness. He was sure nothing good could come of man meddling in what he and many others considered God's turf alone, and only the power of prayer and belief could heal the sick and wounded. So it came as no surprise that when Alexis quite suddenly developed a dull, throbbing pain in her lower abdomen at the age of twelve, the Mayfields immediately organized a prayer circle among their friends and parishioners to ask god to heal the child. Alexis was subjected to long hours of having to sit or lie on the floor while a dozen or more strangers prayed and laid hands on her, begging for divine intervention. It both frightened and disgusted her, but she held her tongue and imagined she was somewhere else until they were finished for the day. Three days later, the source of the pain revealed itself to be early onset of puberty, as if Alexis' problems weren't numerous enough, and the Mayfields abruptly withdrew the prayer request with an air of embarrassment and shame._

_"This is why we don't take girls," Daisy Mayfield confided in her friends caustically during her weekly ladies' group meeting which mainly existed so she could complain about her foster-children. "Boys are easier. Girls always get into trouble, coming home pregnant or diseased or who knows what else."_

_Alexis took the onset of her "disease" with the same stoic acceptance as anything else. Nothing changed much for her immediately upon crossing the imaginary line between child and woman, aside from the fact that she bled and suffered pain once a month and none of her clothes fit right anymore. The Mayfields were distressed at the added expense of having to supply girl's clothes, in the past the boys had always handed everything down until it was completely worn to nothing. But with a girl in the house things were different. The Mayfields seemed to think that Alexis would become pregnant if any of the boys so much as sneezed near her, so they took to locking her in her room at night again to keep temptation at bay._

_On her thirteenth birthday she awoke in the middle of the night to sharp, searing pain that began down low and radiated upwards throughout her entire small frame. It stopped almost immediately, then began again soon afterwards. It came and went like that for weeks, each time the duration a little longer and the pain a little sharper. But she said nothing in the hopes of avoiding another prayer circle. But when the pain was beyond bearable, she found herself in the very difficult position of needing help and unable to ask the adults who were responsible for her well-being. Part of her believed the long prayer sessions had taken a reverse effect and made her "condition" worse, and yet another wondered if she was indeed pregnant, perhaps from using the same bathroom as all the other boys in the house. _She caught Peter alone one evening just before it was time for her to be locked into her room for the night, and told him in no uncertain terms that she was dying. __

_Naturally, he panicked as any fifteen-year-old boy wpuld when faced with a sick and frightened female, and broke one of the foremost rules in the Mayfield house by using the phone without permission. He would be quietly punished for that later, but the fact that he dialed 911 and told the dispatcher a little girl was dying saved him from having to face immediate consequences. First to arrive were two police cruisers, and the officers did not knock. Were it not for the seriousness of Alexis' situation, Peter would have laughed at the comical expression on Daisy's face when they literally kicked the door in and followed him to where he'd left her, curled in a ball and crying silently on her bed. The fact that Alexis had not told anyone worked in the Mayfields' favor, and they quickly adapted the role of shocked and concerned foster parents when the police demanded to know how long she had been ill. When the ambulance arrived, however, it was a different story. The reverend at first refused to let them take her, citing bible passages and evidence of God's power over modern medicine. But one look at Alexis' pale, frightened face and he knew he was overridden. Peter shoved him out of the way so the paramedics could take her, and the glaring faces of the police officers subdued him further._

_Alexis was rushed to Boston General Hospital, and then immediately to emergency surgery. The medical diagnosis was simple and vague: Polycystic 0vary Syndrome. It was genetic, likely inherited from her own mother and simple if treated early. Untreated, the final results all but destroyed even the slightest chance of bearing any children of her own. At the time, Alexis found it hard to care about the loss of parts she didn't even know she had and had no complaints so long as it stopped hurting. Peter didn't have much understanding either, but since the Mayfields refused to set foot in the hospital any further than the admitting desk to sign the necessary paperwork, the doctors talked to Peter, who refused to leave her side the moment she was brought out from surgery. _

_Years later, she understood more thoroughly and wished she had caused the Mayfields more than a couple years incarceration and public humiliation..._

"So what did ya do?" Daryl asked. Early morning had arrived without announcing itself with sunlight, and they were sitting on the roof of the welcome center, taking the last watch shift together and watching the sky turn from black to dark blue to a strange purplish-gray.

"Nothing," Alexis shrugged. "I entertained fantasies about burning their house down. Told myself I could adopt if I wanted kids... the usual. I never _really_ wanted kids anyway, I figured I would just screw them up. But when someone tells you that you _can't_ have something..."

"You want it even if you didn't before."

"You're pretty smart for a hillbilly, you know."

"Don't tell nobody." Daryl leaned forward slightly and looked down as the front door opened and Rick Grimes came out. He raised a hand to them both, then squinted up at the cloudy sky for a moment before heading towards the RV.

"How is this going to work?" Daryl wondered aloud. "No doctors, no hospitals. They can't have a _baby_ in this shit... it don't make sense. What if somethin' goes wrong?"

"If something goes wrong, then something goes wrong," Alexis said quietly. "They haven't got a choice now."

* * *

><p>The first day was devoted to searching. While the welcome center was comfortable and dry, the fact that its grounds were almost literally crawling with alligators made it too dangerous to venture outside. During the day they seemed to prefer not to be seen, but at night they could be seen prowling the grounds or napping on the flagstone patio that still held the heat from the daytime sun.<p>

They organized three teams of two - Rick and Andrea, T-Dog and Kyle, Daryl and Glenn - and after much studying, discussing and arguing over the map of the area they decided to head for the two main bodies of water, one a large lake once used for fishing, camping and other various outdoor sports, and the other was the largest swamp in the area which apparently rented cabins to tourists once upon a time. None of them cared for the idea of living in a swamp, particularly with Daryl's warning about hungry 'gators fresh in mind, but Rick thought it was important to explore every possibility.

Alexis objected loudly about staying behind, but Daryl was louder and their shouting match made everyone stand awkwardly until she admitted that her wounded leg was still a long way off from healed. She wasn't to proud to admit that hiking through woods and muddy terrain would be difficult at best, but it wasn't pride complaining so much as the fear of letting Daryl out of her sight as he went off into the woods without her again. The fact that he was taking Glenn with him and would be in range of the others' walkies was some reassurance, but not much.

"I hate this," she grumbled aloud as Dale came up to stand next to her. They watched the group leave, crossing the parking lot and heading towards the line of cypress trees across the small open field. Rick and Andrea parted from the others there, heading left towards the swamp.

"He'll be all right," Dale said. "It's not like he's going alone this time."

"I know," she said. "I guess what I hate is the not knowing. I miss the city sometimes. At least you know what to look out for there."

"They know what to look out for here," Dale insisted. "They'll be back before nightfall. You can count on that."

"I _am_ counting on it," Alexis sighed and looked up at the sky, wondering how long the rain would hold off.

As it turned out, the rain held off just long enough for Daryl, T-Dog, Kyle and Glenn to reach the lake. As they split into two groups to circle around, the rain started as a drizzle but soon turned into a fully-soaking downpour. It didn't take long to find what they were hoping to find, and for a moment Glenn could only stand and stare as he and Daryl came out of a thicker patch of trees into a round clearing.

"We can't be this lucky," he said. Daryl didn't answer, just stood looking around with his crossbow in both hands, loaded and ready but pointing at the ground.

They were standing in the middle of what appeared to have once been a rustic-style campground, neither touristy-gaudy nor luxurious, but by all appearances practical and free of alligators. Daryl spotted a narrow dirt road leading into the area from the East, nearly hidden by the overgrowth of heavy bushes. It led into the wide unpaved parking area to their right, giving easy access to the six small wooden cabins that stood three on either side of the larger main lodge-style building. A smaller separate building with a squarish screened porch stood off to the side in the shade of the trees, and a wooden sign identified it as an office and first aid station. All of the buildings were covered in wooden siding with dark brown paint that had begin to fade long ago, and a rickety fence surrounded the entire area. It was broken and open in places, but for the most part seemed to have been built to keep animals from wandering in.

Glenn stood at the top of a downward slope leading to the lake and noticed a sign that read "beach access," with an arrow pointing to a set of rickety-looking wooden stairs. They walked towards the stairs and looked down to see a small pebbly beach area and a boat launch a short walk away. The lake sprawled out before them, sunlight reflecting off the blue mirror surface. A wooden float sat about a hundred yards offshore, and three canoes were pulled up onto the grassy area beyond the boat launch.

"Can alligators climb stairs?" Glenn asked.

"Nope," Daryl said. "But they don't like big blue lakes, either. Too cold and too open. They'll stay in the swamp and smaller ponds as long as their food supply is good."

"Did you like, watch National Geographic all the time when you were a kid?" Glenn asked. "Or maybe that crocodile dude on TV?"

"Didn't have a TV," said Daryl. "Never had much use for it."

Kyle and T-Dog were coming up the stairs, having circled around from the other direction and walked along the shore line.

"There's no way we're this lucky," said T-Dog.

Daryl smirked and headed over to the main lodge building, which was low and long like a native American meeting lodge with double doors at both ends. A wide porch circled it, going around one side and to the back. The back area extended out over the edge of the slope leading to the lake, giving it the appearance of sitting right over the water. Daryl stepped up to the railing and looked down, spotting two small storage sheds hidden under the shelter of the porch. The air smelled clean and mossy, the slight breeze drifting in off the lake was noticeably cooler, although they were far from snow this far South. Unlike the moss-covered cypress trees closer to the swamp, the trees here were mostly the tall, thin pines with wide root spread so common in the South. They provided shade without blocking out the light and in bright sunlight would cast long shadows across the area all the way down to the lake. It seemed as if they'd wandered into a small corner of heaven, and if the cabins proved to be as solid as they looked, it could be the perfect spot to set up something a little more permanent.

Something small splashed into the water suddenly, and Daryl caught a glimpse of a sleek brown coat, guessing it to be a river otter or beaver. There would be deer here, black bears, rabbits, squirrels, wild turkeys and who knew how many different kinds of fish. A wider variety of food sources, to be exact. He'd spotted wild huckleberry and blueberry bushes during the hike and suspected there would be plenty of other edible plants in the area, though they would likely have to compete with the bears for the good stuff. Fresh water, shelter, food... it seemed perfect, and as that thought entered his head the rain started to slow down, then ceased altogether. Daryl looked up at the sky just as a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds to the lake below.

"Too perfect," he mumbled. He didn't trust the fact that everything felt fine, which also made him wonder how he would ever know if everything really was fine. He also knew that Alexis was probably going to sneeze her head off here.

"It's a summer camp," a voice said, and Daryl turned to glance at Kyle as he came around the side of the building to look down at the lake. "Or it was. For kids. Boy scouts, maybe."

"How do y'know that?" Daryl asked evenly, walking to the other side to peer at the back of the small cabins sitting on the same slope's edge.

"There's an access road back the way we came," Kyle said. "Saw a sign at the top that said Camp Winokee. Guess that means this is Lake Winokee."

"I guess," Daryl was already walking away as Kyle spoke, circling around to the front of the building again. Kyle started to follow after him, his intention had been to get some sort of half-assed apology out even though he wasn't sure exactly _why_ he should apologize to the jerk, but if Daryl wanted to drop it that was even better. By the time he'd circled around the other side of the building, T-Dog and Glenn were coming back from either side of the grounds, having searched the small cabins and found them to be empty. Daryl was standing in front of the double doors of the larger building, frowning at them as if suspicious of their purpose.

"Found two dead out behind the clinic," T-Dog said. "Shot in the head. Looks like they did themselves."

"Everything else looks empty," Glenn said. He was carrying one of the hunting rifles they'd looted from the outlet, but resting it casually on his shoulder as if he'd no need for it. "We should let the others know, or maybe head back to get them - "

He broke off as a sudden rustling to their right caught everyone's attention. They turned as one, weapons pointed at the sound, but the moment passed quickly when a rabbit bolted fearfully back into the woods. Everyone looked at Daryl as if expecting him to give chase immediately, but he was still frowning at the doors.

"We'll search this last one," said Kyle. "It looks empty, but we should be sure." He took a few steps towards the door, but Daryl stopped him with a shake of his head and pointed at something lying on the boards of the porch in front of the doors.

"What's the problem, man?" T-Dog sounded annoyed.

"They're chained shut," said Kyle. "And the windows are boarded up."

"So what?" said Glenn. "Closed for the season."

"They're boarded up from the outside," said Kyle, as Daryl bent and picked up the object he'd been studying. It was a wide piece of cardboard, damp from recent rain but with what appeared to have large blocked lettering handwritten on it. The ink had run and stained the sign black, making it difficult to read. But some of the letters could be deciphered, and Daryl looked at it in silence for a moment, then turned and held it up so the others could see.

"What the hell is that?" Glenn frowned and started up the steps so he could look more closely.

"Jesus," T-Dog breathed as the blurred letters abruptly made sense to him.

_**DEAD INS DE D NT OPEN**_

Kyle took the sign and handed it to Glenn as Daryl stepped up to the door and pressed an ear against it. He stepped back almost immediately, and Glenn paused on the stairs as Daryl and Kyle exchanged a look.

"Last living person here locked up the infected then went and blew his own brains out," Kyle said, disgust clear in his voice. "How very brave of him."

Daryl didn't reply, but his own expression made it clear that they would at least agree on this. He stepped back and studied the chain, which was twisted through the wooden door handles and padlocked. It was too sturdy to break easily, but the boards over the narrow windows were thin plywood held in place with only a few nails. He pulled at one corner and slipped a finger underneath, finding the glass to be intact. He glanced at Kyle, and he immediately stepped forward to help pry the boards loose.

"Wait!" Glenn said in a loud whisper. "You don't know how many of them are in there."

"If we take them out this place is safer than any other," T-Dog said.

"Just looking first," Kyle grunted. "If there's too many in there, we can leave them for now and get Rick and the others to help."

The plywood came loose and broke in half, and Daryl ducked to avoid the top part that tumbled down towards his head.

"Oh, fuck," he heard Kyle say, and straightened up to look through the single pane of glass. They both stared quietly for a moment, and T-Dog carefully came up the steps behind them with Glenn just behind.

"How many?" he asked.

"I count six," said Kyle. "Maybe seven."

"Seven," Daryl agreed. "Not too many."

"Okay," said T-Dog, "So get the door open and let's finish them. What's the problem?"

"They're all little kids," Kyle said quietly.

* * *

><p>By late afternoon, Andrea was almost used to the smell of the swamp. The odor of decomposing plant life was rich and earthy, not entirely unpleasant, but the stagnant water stench added itself to the mix and made it almost overpowering. The ground was soft and in most places extremely muddy, and although a wooden walkway was provided for the more adventurous tourists it wasn't long before she and Rick both were coated in the thick, slimy black mud from the knees down. They circled the main body of the swamp, taking care to avoid the water and its inhabitants. In some places the boardwalk rose into a narrow bridge above the water, giving them ample views of the water below. The cypress trees' lower branches were coated with heavy moss, which formed thick curtains and natural cover for any animal that inhabited the area.<p>

Daryl had been right about the alligators, they were numerous but also entering their winter phase of semi-hibernation, moving slowly in the cooler weather. For the most part they ignored their visitors, retreating from the bright sunlight into the murky swamp bottom. One followed them for awhile, swimming alongside the walkway as if it had been expecting them, but it lost interest eventually and disappeared from sight. Rick commented that if these had been raised in captivity, they could be a problem now since they were accustomed to being fed by people. Wild predators with no fear of humans were dangerous, he stated in no uncertain terms.

"You sound like Dixon," Andrea replied. "Although I don't think he'd have used the word _predators_."

"I wish I knew half as much about animals as he does," Rick commented. They both paused as a white-tailed deer took sudden flight, startling them as it bolted across the path and away from them.

"He's going to love it here," Andrea commented. "But I'm not sure how I feel about swamp life."

"Maybe the lake area will be better," Rick said, and swatted at his neck as something stung him sharply. "We certainly can't stay _here_, even for one night."

"We haven't seen any walkers," Andrea said, and as they came around a bend in the path she realized she'd spoken too soon. They both froze in place, Andrea immediately taking aim at the walker standing next to the water's edge just ahead of them.

"Wait!" Rick held up a hand and she frowned at him, then lowered the gun slightly. They watched as the walker took a couple uncertain steps towards the water, staring at something they could not see. Its breathing was ragged and uneven, and it was horribly emaciated and moving lethargically as if exhausted. Rick stared in morbid fascination at the ribcage, the bones dull white and fully exposed. The lower internal organs were gone and dried up, and the spine could be seen on the other side, making the creature before even more a freak of unnatural impossibility.

_How is it possible that they can be starving to death?_ Rick wondered._ If Jenner was right and the brain stem is only operating basic functions, why do they waste away so much faster without food? Is it possible that they are somehow digesting what they eat?_

"Remember back in Harmony," Rick whispered to Andrea. "The walkers there were different. Slower and completely uninterested until we started shooting."

"Yeah," she said. "Like they were too exhausted to care."

"They weren't like that in Atlanta," he said. "They noticed _everything_ and they moved damned fast."

They watched in silence as the walker took a few more steps towards the water's edge and leaned forward for a close look. Its stance was one of pure curiosity, there was no sign of any aggression.

"What the hell is it doing?" Andrea wondered aloud, but a split second later she jumped in surprise as a fully-grown alligator literally launched itself out of the water and clamped its powerful jaws around the walker's leg. At the same time, the walker snarled and lunged forward, attempting to sink its teeth into the reptile's thick hide and claw at it with bony fingers. The gator snapped its head to the side, sending the walker sprawling to the ground, then pulled it back into the water, flailing and still trying to bite.

Rick took a few steps forward, transfixed by the sight of the bizarre struggle. Andrea came up behind him, and they watched as the alligator took its prey into water and shook it violently, releasing it briefly only to clamp down again in a better grip around the walker's upper body. The gator was nearly twelve feet long and obviously well-fed. Rick remembered reading somewhere that they could weigh 1000 pounds when fully grown. It was a disturbing thought, and he was already starting to rethink their new location. As the animal went into its infamous death roll, the sound of the walker's flailing limbs breaking under the reptile's weight could be clearly heard.

"I thought alligators liked _living_ food," Andrea said breathlessly as the water churned with the battle between walker and hunter.

"No," said Rick. "I'm pretty sure they can and will eat anything. They hide leftovers on the bottom, under a log or something for a few days. They don't have a problem with eating decomposing meat."

"Do you think they're infected?" Andrea said. "I mean... they're eating infected flesh but it doesn't seem to have made them sick."

"Haven't seen any infected animals," Rick said. "I've been pretty sure it only affects humans. We should probably let Daryl now that alligator soup is a bad idea, though."

Andrea shuddered as the walker's lower half separated from the top with a sickening _crunch_ and floated away. The water churned again as the giant hunter dove to the bottom with its prize, and Rick realized more smaller alligators were starting to approach from across the small pond.

"Let's go," he said. "I think we've determined why there aren't many walkers around here."

They went about a mile further and discovered a few tiny cabins standing on tall stilts above the water. Their exact purpose couldn't be determined, but Rick guessed they were lookout points for swamp visitors to observe the area safely. Snapping turtles and poisonous snakes were abundant, as well as the ever-resent hordes of tiny black flies and hungry mosquitoes, leading Rick to further dislike the area.

"I think we can let the alligators be in charge around here," he said to Andrea as they started back towards the welcome center. "They were here first anyway."

They arrived back at the welcome center just as the sun was beginning to set. Glenn raised them on the radio just as they arrived to describe the campground they'd found and also to report that they had encountered and disposed of several walkers, but he didn't go into much more detail than that. With night approaching rapidly, they were going to stay where they were and come back in the morning.

"No," Rick said after a moment's thought. "We'll come to you in the morning. It sounds better than what we found and there's no sense in you all walking all the way back here."

"I need a bath," Andrea sighed. Rick put the radio away as they walked up the slight slope towards the welcome center's parking lot. Rick glanced at her and tried not to smile. Mud and other swamp deposits streaked her face and hair, and both of them appeared to be wearing black knee-high mud boots from the few times they'd had to step in deeper mud. Lori was standing out in front, watching as they approached, having been alerted to their arrival by Dale watching from the roof. She wrinkled her nose as Rick drew closer, and he knew he needed one as well.

"What's been _biting_ you?" she exclaimed once she looked past the mud to the red welts left behind by stinging insects.

"Just about everything," he sighed. "I hope we added mosquito repellent to the last shopping list."

"There's some in the gift shop," she said. "Lex and Carol looted it pretty thoroughly. It probably would have been more useful if you used it first, though."

As they went inside, Carl and Sophie looked up from where they'd been playing checkers at one of the tables off to the side. They looked at the muddy duo, then at each other and giggled. Alexis came in from the side hall, and looked behind them at the door as if hoping they brought the others with them. Carol appeared with the same hopeful expression, and Dale joined them from outside.

"They're still at the lake," Rick reported. "Glenn says it looks good, there's an old campground with a few buildings. They ran into a few walkers but they got rid of them pretty easy. It's getting dark, so they're going to stay. We'll head out tomorrow unless anyone has a better idea."

"It's safe?" Carol asked. "Are they sure?"

"Safer than here," Rick said. "It should do for a spell, and we can leave if it's not. Okay?"

* * *

><p>Glenn set the walkie-talkie down on the railing of the deck and turned to watch as T-Dog carried another small bundle down the steps towards the beach. Daryl had built up a bonfire a good distance away along the water's edge, big enough to incinerate walker bodies. The walker-children had appeared to range in age from six to eight years old, and the sight of tiny faces devoid of any sign of innocence was something Glenn thought might haunt him forever. Small and lacking any real strength at all, they had posed little threat even after Kyle had smashed the door handles off to release the chain and let them out.<p>

It had been Daryl who suggested they draw them outside rather than kill them all inside, which would eliminate the unpleasant task of cleaning brains and blood from the inside of the building. The idea made sense, but sight of the small monsters pouring through the doorway, snarling with rotting blackened mouths and tiny, grasping claws that were once pudgy little hands... it did something to Glenn's insides, something unpleasant and painful. He hadn't been able to fire a single shot, his finger frozen over the trigger even as one charged straight at him with a bizarre, high-pitched screech. He'd stumbled backwards, tripped over a tree root jutting up out of the ground and landed sprawled on the ground. If he'd had time to think about it, he would have sworn that he saw his own death reflected in the eyes of a walker that had once been a six-year-old boy. But motion blurred behind it and the walker-child disappeared as Daryl struck it in the side of the head with the hand axe he'd grabbed from a nearby woodpile, then hacked at its skull with two more quick hits before turning to take down another.

As it turned out, no shots were fired. Daryl had fired his crossbow once then discarded it for the hand axe which didn't require reloading. T-Dog swung the baseball bat he always carried with him, and Kyle clubbed at them with the butt of his own weapon. The slaughter was over quickly and quietly even as Glenn watched without participating.

"You hurt?" Daryl had asked gruffly, pointing at him with the axe as he dragged one small body away one-handed. Glenn shook his head wordlessly and wondered if Daryl would have put that axe through _his_ head if he'd been bitten. He felt slightly guilty for being so useless in a fight, but nobody gave him any grief as they immediately fell to the task of cleaning up. He helped gather wood for the fire and numbly followed Daryl's directions for finding appropriate kindling to get it started. Kyle's butane lighter was all they had to start the fire, and the flame burned low. Glenn only half-heard Daryl's comment that they would be rubbing sticks together soon, but soon enough the fire was burning hot enough for the cremation, and Daryl muttered something about catching something for them to eat before disappearing into the woods.

As Glenn stood now, watching as T-Dog tossed the last little body on the makeshift pyre then walked to the water's edge to kneel down and wash his hands in the cool water, he felt his stomach lurch suddenly and hurried towards the nearest clump of bushes to hurl up the beef jerky he'd eaten several hours ago. When Daryl returned a short time later with four squirrels and a small rabbit, Glenn fought to control his stomach at the thought of eating but managed to not make another dash to the bushes. Kyle had built a smaller fire in the center of the area, making use of the fire pit that had been dug and lined with stones some time ago. All of the cooking equipment was back in the RV, but Daryl rigged up a simple spit over the fire and by the time it was dark the smell of roasting squirrel overcame the stench of bodies being cremated on the beach.

"Here," Kyle nudged Glenn with his elbow as he sat down next to him, and handed him what appeared to be a pile of green leaves.

"Peppermint," he explained. "Someone was growing herbs in a little garden over by the main office. It'll settle your guts."

Glenn tried not to shudder at the word _guts_, but chewed the leaves gratefully and found they did help things settle a bit. He still wasn't much interested in squirrel meat, though. The four of them sat around the fire and picked at the food, eating out of necessity rather than real hunger. Nobody spoke until the bones were picked clean and the fire was starting to burn down to coals.

"Did you tell Rick?" T-Dog asked Glenn.

"Just that we found a place, and killed some walkers," he answered. "Didn't know if the kids might be close enough to hear."

"Good enough," said Kyle. "Fire should be burned out before they get here in the morning. I'll go keep an eye on it."

"You had kids, didn't you?" Glenn asked him as he stood up. Kyle frozen for a moment, making Glenn wonder what was wrong with his mouth and why it was saying things without his permission.

"Yeah," Kyle said. "One. His name was Michael."

Nobody said anything as he walked away, and Glenn was the first to fall asleep from full-on exhaustion. T-Dog nodded off and snoozed lightly, but Daryl found himself completely unable to sleep. He sat up for the duration of the night, looking up at the sky as the stars winked in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Down on the beach, Kyle did the same, and by morning both were tired with eyes heavy-lidded and red.

* * *

><p>The sun had been up for just under an hour, and the last remains of the cremating fire turned to coals by the time the others arrived. T-Dog stood at the top of the road to wave down Rick in the Jeep as it came into sight, leading the way with eh RV right behind. T-Dog jumped in to ride shotgun and direct the way to the lakeside camp. They'd had to leave Daryl's motorcycle behind, but Rick had pushed it into the small garage that housed a lawnmower and other maintenance items and made sure the door was closed firmly. That was the first thing he explained hastily to Daryl, fully expecting an angry reaction and loud outburst. But Daryl had only nodded distantly, making Rick wonder if he'd even heard.<p>

Everyone stood around uncertainly for a moment, then T-Dog pulled Rick aside and the two walked down to the beach to discuss things that shouldn't be heard by children. Everyone else went to work immediately, and by afternoon Camp Winokee looked as if people had been living there all along. The RV was parked along the edge of the lot with the awning up and the usual chair and umbrella on the roof. Dale rebuilt the fire in the center of the grounds, then helped Carol and Lori hang the lines they used for drying clothes in the sun. Alexis predictably began sneezing almost immediately, and Glenn joined her in a search of the small clinic to see what they could find for medication. Andrea collected Dale's fishing gear and tackle and spent time checking it all to make sure it was still usable.

Carl and Sophie collected firewood and stacked it as best they could, then became excited by Carol's suggestion that they go swimming. The excitement faded slightly when she handed them bars of soap and towels, then hoisted a basket of laundry to follow them. She sat and scrubbed at clothes with a contented expression while the kids splashed nearby, doing more horsing around than actual washing. Lori joined her shortly afterwards, and the two of them took up laundry duty as if it had just left off yesterday, watching the children at play as if not a single thing was out of place in their world.

Alexis and Glenn finished searching the clinic and moved the main lodge to check out the small kitchen. They found a closet stocked full of art-type supplies, colored paper, crayons, scissors, glue and paint as well as toys, books and even a few family-friendly movies on DVDs. The closet contained items clearly intended for entertaining children on rainy days, kept locked away when they were supposed to be doing outdoor activities. The discovery prompted questions, and Glenn haltingly told Alexis about the walker-children they had killed the night before.

Kyle and Daryl, both exhausted from no sleep and running on autopilot, made a sweep of the perimeter and set up several of the old tripwires with cans that had been used at the Atlanta camp. They also rigged several snare-traps that Daryl had brought from the outlet stores, strong enough to capture and hold anything smaller than a bear that happened to step into it. Kyle was amused by the low-tech defense methods, but had to admit they were perfectly effective as an early warning system, and didn't require constant vigilance. With the lake on one side, thick woods all around and the alligator-filled swamp a couple miles away, they were more likely to have problems with hungry racoons, wandering bears or curious bobcats than walkers.

And for now, that was just fine with everyone.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Crosby, Stills and Nash,_ Teach Your Children_


	20. Tainted

**A/N: **Hey, y'all... it's OCTOBER! Only 14 days until the Walking Dead Season 2 starts! I was hoping to be a little further along than I am right now, but plans never work out for me like that. We'll see what happens. Don't be upset if updates slow down even more when the new season starts, I will need time to digest the new episodes before trying to work them in here.

Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter!**  
><strong>

**JoanieNobody**- I guess since most zombie stories take place primarily in city settings you just don't see what would happen if the undead faced off against something with really big teeth. The mutant dog-things in Resident evil are gross and scary, but I never really bought into them. Besides, I have a weird fascination for alligators. They're modern dinosaurs. How cool is that?

**xXBXx** - funny how things don't stay okay for long... But if they did, there wouldn't be any interesting stories to tell. :)

**AvidReaderWolf** - thank you so much. Sometimes I think I work too hard on character development, or get myself in over my head by building something so complex it gets away from me. Really trying not to do that here. And the Walking Dead series (TV and comics) doesn't spare anyone, not even children.

Thank you also to **Azalia Fox Knightling, FellowEarthGirl, Nelle07, K,**** ShayGurl** and **Quicksilvermad**. Somehow people are discovering _Road to Nowhere_ lately... love it. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Tainted<strong>

**Glenn**

He awoke suddenly as outside noise infiltrated the vivid and rather unpleasant dream he was having, in which Sophie and Carl were walkers following him at a shambling pace as he fled from them on foot. He sat bolt upright and listened for a moment, trying to determine if the laughter he heard from outside the tiny cabin was real or part of his dream.

"Walkers don't laugh," he finally said out loud. He rubbed at his eyes and squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the cabin's single window. From the look of the light, it was almost mid-day. He'd taken the graveyard watch shift the night before, and Kyle had taken over at dawn. Glenn hated sleeping late. But since he hadn't slept more than a couple hours since they'd arrived at Camp Winokee... how long had it been? Days? Weeks? He wasn't even sure. How ever long it had been, he hadn't slept much. But that was no excuse for sleeping half the day away. Not anymore. Life at the lakeside camp was a lot easier than the Atlanta camp in a lot of ways... but in others it was harder. Harder as in more work on a daily basis.

In Atlanta survival had depended on what they could loot from the city. Food, supplies, everything. They could pull fish from the lake or shoot squirrels from the trees, but it wasn't enough for everyone. They needed to loot, and they did it regularly. But out here, the nearest town was an Army base 50 miles away that Kyle was sure would be overrun with walkers. Out here, there was nothing to loot aside from the few ranger stations and gift shops that were scattered across the wildlife preserve, and although those looting trips yielded some entertaining results, very little in the way of survival supplies existed. They'd found a case of disposable butane lighters, touristy T-shirts with various slogans and pictures, sunglasses, hats and three cases of rubbery-plastic alligator squeaky toys. Glenn and Kyle had been tagged along one day when Andrea had looted the park's three public restrooms, which mainly meant she broke into the tampon machines in the ladies' rooms and the condom machines in the men's room.

_Don't give me that look,_ she said when he blinked at her as she stuffed all of the items into a backpack. _The day might come when you'll be thanking me for thinking ahead._ Glenn had withheld comment. She shared a cabin with Dale, and he didn't need to know any more than that.

_All the comforts of home,_ Kyle had joked. _Just don't forget the toilet paper._

Glenn pushed the tangle of sleeping bag off himself and dressed with bleary eyes. Rick wanted him to go hunting with Daryl on his next hunting trip, to learn how it was done. Daryl didn't seem too pleased with that, but he'd already been teaching Carl how to shoot small animals, skin and dress them and make a flavorless sort of stew from the meat. Rick wasn't willing to let the boy go with him on the overnights for larger game, though. Alexis usually went with him on those, and from what Glenn understood she'd become a decent shot with one of the smaller crossbows they'd grabbed from Jimbo's outlet. Glenn couldn't imagine Daryl would be pleased to have his company rather than hers, but he'd agreed since he had no survival skills whatsoever outside of a city. Daryl had pointed out the edible plants in the area, the berries, mushrooms, something called sorrel _- yuck -_ and a few leafy green plants that wouldn't make them sick. Those things could be easily gathered, and the group foraged daily. It all looked good in a salad, but eating rabbit or squirrel stew with dandelion greens made Glenn miss things like pizza and french fries on a regular basis. Daryl hadn't been successful in bagging a deer yet, perhaps due to the season, but he and Alexis had left the day before, determined to bring back something bigger than a rabbit.

As Glenn emerged outside, the sunlight seemed unnaturally bright, and he paused for a moment to shade his eyes. He shared one of the six smaller cabins with T-Dog, and since each cabin was built to sleep four campers in narrow bunk beds, it was comfortable enough. The always-present campfire burned low in the center of the area. They'd dug the fire pit a little deeper and built up more rocks around it, but its primary purpose was light and heat during the nights, and mainly boiling water during the day. They pulled water from the lake daily, boiled it in the various pots and pans they had on hand, and stored it in the ten-gallon drums still strapped in the back of Shane's - _no, Kyle's_ - Jeep. It was a tedious task but everyone agreed it was necessary in case they had to leave fast. Rick had also discovered a large charcoal grill in a utility shed. No charcoal, but they found that a small wood fire achieved similar results for cooking.

Carol had examined the herb garden behind the office/clinic building carefully and discovered that whomever had planted it had a taste for herbal tea, so she brewed it as often as possible in place of coffee, which was also running low again. She looked up from the fire as Glenn shuffled over now, and smiled in amusement. Carl and Sophie's laughter floated up from the lake again. They had been allowed to loot the closet in the rec building, but found little that appealed to them, aside from a few books that Sophie liked and a couple inflatable rafts for use in the lake. Glenn glanced down towards the lake and saw them now, floating on the rafts and splashing at each other while Kyle watched from a large rock that stood high enough to give him a full view of the shore. It seemed bizarre that they were happy here. Happy and healthy thanks to better diet, sunshine, and exercise... they barely resembled the skinny, frightened kids they had been not so long ago. _Weeks. We've been here weeks. Maybe three now...?_ He could see T-Dog and Andrea further up the shore, building the larger fire they would use to roast deer meat when Daryl and Alexis returned from their hunting trip.

"Good morning," Carol's voice interrupted the tired monologue in his brain, and he automatically reached for the cup she held out to him.

"Still morning?" He squatted down next to the fire until he was sitting on one of the logs they'd chopped to serve as seats and sipped at the grassy-flavored tea. _I wish we had sugar. _

"Just barely," she said. "We've got fresh blueberries and Sophie found some duck eggs this morning. Are you hungry? They won't keep longer than a day." Glenn nodded even though he wasn't hungry at all, but she was already up and heading over to the cooler where the eggs had been stashed. Carol never failed to mention how much she missed the appliances that had made her homemaking tasks easier... washing machine, stove, oven. But creative cooking was something she was good at, and she took the lead in that responsibility with help from everyone else.

"I hard-boiled them," she said with an apologetic tone as she passed him a metal plate with two white globes rolling around next to a pile of dark berries. "Duck eggs are bland, but not terrible."

"We eat _squirrel_," Glenn reminded her. "Eggs are a luxury no matter what bird they come from. Where's Rick?" Glenn swallowed half an egg whole so as not to taste the blandness for too long.

"Checking the perimeter. Lori's asleep, her stomach is acting up again. We need more water if you're looking for something to do. Eat first, there's no rush."

_No rush. That's a first._ Everything seemed to have slowed down and resumed a different sort of pace here. Everyone was always busy, but there was no longer a frenetic scramble to get everything they could their hands on as fast as they could, and no rush to be on the road and going somewhere. Nobody used the word _home_ just yet, but conversations no longer began with _next time we stop_ or _next place we find_ anymore.

Glenn knew he wasn't the only one who wasn't sleeping. Whenever he had a night watch he saw Daryl slip out the cabin he shared with Alexis to move restlessly through the woods surrounding the campground. Glenn supposed he was checking the snares and making sure the trip wires were in place, but they seemed difficult tasks by moonlight alone. Sometimes he would see Kyle down by the water's edge, pacing and looking out across the water as if waiting for something to happen. He knew Rick didn't sleep, either, but he never left the small office cabin where he slept with Lori and Carl. Glenn would see him sitting inside the small screened porch, silhouetted by moon or firelight. It unnerved him, all of them doing the exact same thing late at night and none aware of the other. It was as if by day they put on the faces of comfort and confidence with their new safe haven, but by night an unnamed threat lurked and demanded constant vigilance. And the more Glenn thought about it, the more he realized he was doing exactly the same thing that they were.

"Waiting for the other shoe to drop," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Alexis<strong>

Crouched behind a thick tangle of prickly bushes, Alexis shifted her weight very slightly as her right foot started to fall asleep. She'd been crouched here for almost an hour, waiting for Daryl to circle around and catch up to the deer that had tripped one of the snares and ran off with it tangled around one leg. At least that was what Daryl guessed had happened. The snares were in place to catch rabbits, but occasionally something bigger blundered through and got away with little to no injury.

This time the deer was wounded, and left a blood trail clear enough for them to follow. Or rather, Daryl followed it and Alexis followed him... and calling it a "trail" was giving it way too much credit. She couldn't figure out how he managed to spot a single drop of blood on a leaf, or how he knew a sprig from a bush had broken instead of just fallen, or how he knew when dried dead leaves had been disturbed by a fleeing animal. She'd gotten better at moving through the woods more quietly, but still hung back when complete silence was needed and did her best to not feel like she was intruding in Daryl's world. In a way, she knew that was exactly what she was doing. At first she'd insisted on coming with him the first time he went out on an overnight trip, simply because she wasn't willing to let him disappear on her again. But they'd gone out twice more since then and he didn't seem to mind. On the second trip they'd finally seen a deer, but it was a young female and Daryl seemed particular about not killing her.

"It's just past breedin' season," he'd explained to Alexis in a hushed tone as they watched the doe standing alone in a clearing, ears perked up as if she could ear them. "If we start huntin' the females 'fore their young have grown, it reduces their numbers. There, look..." he pointed and Alexis caught sight of the spotted coat of a very young fawn along the edge of the clearing.

"Bambi," Alexis whispered, and Daryl gave her a strange look.

"Huh?"

"Bambi," she said. "Hunters killed his mother when he was a baby, so he had to... oh, never mind..."

"You mean that movie with the rabbit and the skunk?"

"Yeah. Thumper. You have seen it, then."

"It was boring."

Alexis smiled to herself as she remembered the story. Merle had sneaked Daryl in to see the film when he was seven years old, it was one of several in a series of classic Disney cartoon matinees playing at a tiny old theater in the next town over. Merle would leave him to watch the movies every Saturday and hustle pool in the bar next door. Daryl had liked the dragon in _Snow White_ and the bear in _Jungle Book_, but _Bambi_ flat-out bored him and he fell asleep ten minutes into the movie. Unfortunately, that was also the day Merle drank too much beer and forgot about him completely. When Daryl woke up, Merle had already gone home to pass out on the couch and the theater was running _Friday the Thirteenth_. Having nothing better to do, Daryl ate popcorn for dinner and stayed to watch the film. The town of Harmony would pay dearly for Merle's carelessness when Daryl took to lurking in bushes wearing a hockey mask and jumping out at passing children during the months that followed. If they ran, he chased them with a board he'd shaped and painted to vaguely resemble a machete. If they were bigger than him, he usually did the running...

Her thoughts were forced back into the present by the sound of something crashing through the bushes a short distance away. Alexis frowned at the intensity of the sound. She was expecting a young deer, wounded, weakened and driven by Daryl's pursuit. Her part was to head it off and force it to run towards the lake, where they could corner it and finish the hunt. Instead it sounded like an unholy Hound of Hell was charging right at her, snorting and snarling hellfire. She stood up and hopped over the bushes in front of her, intending to take refuge in the lower branches of the tree there, then froze as the sound of Daryl shouting her name from not far away reached her.

"Lex, run!" he was shouting. "Not deer! RUN!"

Alexis was already running before she could wonder what exactly _not deer_ meant. She turned and bolted back into the cover of the woods just as the - whatever it was - broke cover and let out a bizarre, squealing _shriek_. Alexis ran full speed straight towards the small camp they'd made the night before. She risked a quick look back and saw nothing but brownish blackish fur and the biggest goddamned teeth she'd ever seen in her life. _Holy shit... I'm going to be eaten by Sasquatch!..._ she heard the _twang_ of Daryl's crossbow as he let a bolt fly, and the beast chasing her was so close she heard it _thump_ into its thick hide. But the animal barely seemed to notice, aside from another angry grunt. Alexis' heart leaped into her throat as her foot caught on a root and she went down hard just as she reached the campsite, but her reflexes took over and she rolled to the side and snatched at her machete, which was stuck in the ground close to where she landed.

The thing was on her almost immediately, squealing and grunting in rage as it gnashed ridiculously long teeth in her face. She flung up her arm to protect her face, and somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that the beast had sharp hooves and they were stomping on her shins even as it tried to bite her. She hit it across the side of its think neck with the machete and heard the thunk of another bolt hitting its hide. Daryl was suddenly right behind it, grabbing double handfuls of thick skin and wrestling it off her.

"Get up!" he shouted and jumped back as it whirled to face him. He kicked dirt up into its face and started to circle around to draw it away from her. Alexis scrambled to her feet and backed away, swinging the machete once at its hindquarters as it lunged at Daryl. She jumped up onto the nearby rock formation as it turned back to charge at her, then climbed up one more to put some distance between herself and the... pig. It was a pig. The biggest damned pig she'd ever seen in her life.

"It's a _pig_!" she said breathlessly as Daryl took aim and fired another bolt at it.

"Razorback," he grunted. "And a damned nasty one." As if to prove that point, it charged at him again, as if unaware of the fact that it now had three bolts sticking him in various places. Daryl took a cue from Alexis and hopped up onto the rock formation and quickly set the crossbow point-down to draw back the string for another shot. It must have weighed over two hundred pounds and was easily five feet long from snout to tail, with two impressive, curved tusks poking out on either side of its snout. Its fur was rough and bristly, and a distinctive black ridge standing up straight down the length of its spine.

Alexis stared at the tusks with a mixture of fear and fascination. It was been trying to kill her with those things. Or trample her with its hooves and then kill her with its tusks. Daryl took another shot, and the fourth bolt struck it in the chest. It squealed louder and charged again as Daryl jumped down from the rock and approached it with his knife in hand. He sidestepped and backed away, and the hog turned to charge him again, but it was clearly growing exhausted from the chase and its wounds, and moved much more slowly.

"Stay there," Daryl pointed at Alexis when she moved as if to come down. She crouched where she was and watched in morbid fascination as Daryl moved fast and plunged the knife into the hog's throat. She flinched and turned her face away as the animal's enraged squeal turned into something more frightened and pitiful. Daryl stabbed at the throat again and the animal fell silent quickly. When Alexis looked back, it was laying on its side, legs twitching with final reflexes and blood pooling on the ground beneath it.

"You all right?" Daryl was looking up at her, and nodded at her arm. She looked down and noticed for the first time that her forearm was bleeding, and she felt her knees shake as the adrenaline from the chase began to wear off. She took the hand Daryl offered up to her and climbed down from the rocks. They both stood for a moment, looking down at the hog and then Daryl took a breath and blew it out.

"I ain't never butchered hog before," he said. "This could get interesting."

"Can't we take it back and do it at the campground?" Alexis studied the wound on her arm, and Daryl reached as if to touch it, then stopped when he saw hog blood on his own hands.

"That thing weighs at least 200 pounds," he said. "Prob'ly more. If we haul it bleedin' all the way we're leaving a hell of a trail for more hogs." He gestured for her to follow him back to the small campsite and then directed her to sit while he dug out the first aid kit they'd brought along.

"Trail?" She frowned. "Blood trail? I thought pigs ate corn and grains... that kind of stuff."

"Pigs live on farms," he said, and poured water from a plastic bottle onto his hands to wash the blood off, then shrugged and dried them on his pants. He reached for his pack and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, which they had sipped from a little last night. "Pigs eat whatever farmers feed them. Wild hogs eat anything, and I do mean _anything_."

"Anything?" She turned and looked at the dead beast with a new sense of revulsion, then gasped as Daryl took advantage of her distraction to take hold of her wrist and pour straight whiskey on her gashed forearm.

"I'll bleed it and gut it here," he said as if he _hadn't_ just poured grain alcohol onto her gashed skin. "That will cut some of the weight and it won't leak all the way back." He pressed gauze against the cuts and winked at her as she glared at him.

"There's too many things trying to eat us," she complained, but let him fuss over her arm without further comment.

"He wouldn't have eaten you," he finished wrapping her arm in gauze and handed her the whiskey bottle. "Might have taken a couple bites, though."

Alexis took a big gulp of the whiskey, then cast a doubtful look at the dead hog as Daryl stood over it for a moment as if debating where to start. It was unlike a deer in every possible way, aside from having four feet.

"Think bacon," he said to himself, then knelt down and plunged the knife into its belly.

* * *

><p><strong>Kyle<strong>

He sat and watched the kids as they splashed and swam in the lake. It was during these times that he thought life had taken an almost normal turn. He could just sit here and watch the kids play, and maybe even pretend that he wasn't watching for walkers that might shuffle out of the woods, drawn to their noisy play and hungry as always. He idly wondered if walkers could swim, and supposed that since they could barely walk in straight lines the answer to that would probably be no. This made him wonder if walkers could just walk underwater to get to their target... he knew they were breathing, they made so much noise doing it that it was hard not to. This train of thought led him to wonder if walkers could be _drowned_... it made sense that depriving the brain of oxygen long enough would kill it, although certainly slower than a bullet. He made a mental note to test that theory sometime, although the sightings of walkers out here in vacation land had been so few and far between he might have to go hunt for one to test with.

_Testing walkers for weaknesses now? You're losing it, pal._

"I'm so fucking tired," he muttered, and lit one of the three cigarettes left in his pack. Carl and Sophie were getting out of the water now, and he imagined they both had that waterlogged puckered-skin look to them that children always found so amusing after spending so much time swimming. He saw Carl look up and down the beach quickly and knew the boy was making sure the area was safe, even though Kyle was sitting in full view as he watched over them. He raised a hand to them both to show that they were clear, and they hurried towards the wooden stairs, shivering and wrapped in brightly-colored beach towels. He saw Carol standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for them, but she was shielding her eyes to look towards him. He waved up at her, and she hesitated for a moment, then waved back.

She'd been a lot friendlier before that whole ugly scene at the diner. Kyle supposed he couldn't blame her for not trusting him now, if she ever really did before. But it was going to be a long time before she stopped averting her face when he walked by or frowned and looked away during those rare moments when she accidentally made eye contact. Sophie was a sweet girl, but she had the same mistrust and fearfulness to her. The mark of abused women, it was one that wasn't always easy to spot but it never completely went away. Kyle hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Ed, the man who had done a fine job marking them both. But he had heard about the late Shane Walsh pounding Ed's face into hamburger meat the day he had hit Carol in front of everybody, and he approved.

He stood up and stretched now, dropping the half-smoked cigarette on the rocky outcropping he'd been sitting on and grinding it out with his boot heel. He raised the binoculars and looked out across the water for the thousandth time. It was the only part of their new location that he didn't like. Wide open, indefensible and exposed. If this were a military outpost, they'd be completely vulnerable on this side.

_But there's nothing to get at us across the lake. Walkers don't swim. Bears don't care. It's safe here, stop being such a fucking paranoid._

Paranoid. That must be it. Years of living off the grid, deep cover operations, black ops with no backup. Everyone was a potential hostile and everything a weapon that could be used by or against him. Kyle rarely slept unless Dale was on watch. He was the one who seemed least likely to cause trouble if he let his guard down, if for no other reason than it would be rude of him to do so. He wasn't worried so much about Glenn, but the young man had been clearly traumatized by the recent events involving walker-children, Kyle never slept when he was on. He was a good kid and he meant well, but he wasn't sharp anymore and Kyle wouldn't let anyone who wasn't at one hundred percent watch his...

_Knock it off. These people aren't soldiers. They're just people, and you're an even bigger asshole now than you were before you started this mission._

"I let her live. I wasn't supposed to, but I didn't have any choice. Soon as I saw those files I knew who she was... I guess it doesn't matter now, the reasons for anyone wanting her dead are so stupid and pointless now, nobody's going to care anyway. There's no recording... I've been through all of her stuff twice. She's got nothing, just a picture of Peter Quinn, a hairbrush, that journal she took from Jenner at the CDC and her clothes. That's it. Not even a book, or any of the usual crap women might carry around with them. She's got nothing. I don't even know if it mattered to begin with..."

"Hey," Kyle looked down in surprise to see T-Dog looking up at him with a puzzled expression on his face. Had he been talking out loud just now? He wasn't sure.

"Sorry," said Kyle. "I was thinking, didn't see you there. What's up?"

"The great white hunters are back," T-Dog said, still looking at him strangely. "Pork roast tonight, but Daryl could use help with butchering. Don't s'pose you ever butchered a hog?"

"Nope," Kyle arranged his face into the friendly smile he reserved for them all, and T-Dog seemed to relax slightly. "But if a Dixon's askin' for help I'm not going to pass that up."

"He ain't askin'," T-Dog snorted. "You know that."

Yes. Kyle knew that. He was all too aware that Daryl Dixon didn't trust him any further than he could throw him, even though that wasn't saying much. He clearly didn't trust anyone, but he was fiercely protective of Alexis, which made Kyle feel completely reassured that no harm would come to her as long as Daryl was around. It made his self-appointed mission a lot easier, knowing that she had people around her who cared enough about her and each other... she'd gone and found herself a family of the most unusual kind. Even if it was out of necessity rather than choice, it was more than she'd had for most of her life.

_I don't belong here. She does, they all do. But I don't. I can't stay here forever, sooner or later it's all going to come to an end._

"Wow," he said, stopping short and staring up at the fully grown male razorback Daryl and Rick had just finished hauling up with a rope looped around its hind legs and tossed over a lower branch. It was already gutted, but there was much more to be done before they could start cooking it. Kyle glanced at Alexis, who was sitting on a nearby log, dirty and tired-looking. Carol was sitting next to her, unwrapping a bandage from her arm that had what appeared to be fresh blood on it.

"Please tell me you didn't try to take on a fully-grown razorback with your bare hands," Kyle asked her, only half joking.

"Hell no," she said. "But it was willing to take _me_ on. I never even knew there were such things as wild pigs."

"Hogs," Daryl corrected her with a tone that suggested he'd done it already several times. She stuck her tongue out at the back of his head, making Sophie laugh.

* * *

><p><strong>Rick<strong>

There was nothing glamorous about butchering large animals. Rick's limited hunting experience consisted of weekend trips with Shane and his brothers during which they might or might not have shot a deer. And after they shot it, they delivered it to the lodge for skinning, dressing and packaging the meat into convenient paper-wrapped bundles to deliver home to their families. He was grateful to Daryl for teaching Carl how to hunt small game, it was a skill that would prove invaluable in their very uncertain futures. But hearing the story of the vicious wild boar turning the tables and blurring the lines between hunter and prey, he was even more grateful that he hadn't let Carl go along with them this time. One look at Alexis' exhausted face and he wasn't sure if he would next time, either. Daryl was clearly in his element out here, but everyone else was still trying to catch up. He showed impressive patience showing the children how to do things, but with adults he had little to none at all, and didn't bother to pretend that he did.

Now, watching Daryl carve into the dead hog with all the zeal of a butcher in a hometown shop, Rick wondered how they were going to survive for the rest of their lives out here. The last few weeks everyone had pulled together and worked hard to learn how to live off the land, but it was exhausting and Rick couldn't help wondering if they shouldn't be moving on any time soon. He didn't feel completely safe without the security of laws and some semblance of authority keeping the bad guys at bay. Nobody ever spoke of the cannibals that had helped Merle Dixon take Daryl from them, but the realization that they existed in one place meant they were more than likely to exist in others.

"Can't store the meat," Daryl was saying. "It's pork, it'll make us all sick if it even starts to go bad."

"Can't we dry it, like venison?" Carol asked curiously, but Daryl shook his head.

"Wouldn't risk it. Wild _hogs_," he glanced at Alexis. "Ain't bred for food like pigs, or raised fat and happy by farmers. Best to cook the meat all the way through and throw out what we don't eat the same day. Wild hogs can carry diseases like TB and cholera, too. Last thing we need is to git sick or food poisoning."

"Seems a waste," said Rick, and Daryl nodded.

"Yeah. That's why I wanted a deer. We had to come right back, though. Hog got her pretty good," he nodded at Alexis, who was now flinching as Carol carefully dabbed at the gash with alcohol. "Could'a gotten infected out there, made her sick."

"You should have watched out for her," Kyle said quietly, and Daryl shot him a _look_.

"I'm sure she wanted to help," Rick said quickly. "And if you ever tried to tell Lex to do anything, you know it's a fruitless effort."

"Got that right," Daryl muttered. "Most stubborn damn woman I ever, here... hold this..." he handed Rick his knife and turned to place the long slabs of meat he'd just carved on the metal trays Glenn had brought from the kitchen.

"Oh," said a voice behind them, and Rick turned in time to see Lori coming forward to look curiously at the boar. "Is that... what is that?"

"Pork roast tonight," said Rick. Lori looked doubtful, and turned slightly pale as Daryl pulled more meat from the carcass.

"I'm sure it'll look better once it's cooked," Rick said.

* * *

><p><strong>T-Dog<strong>

After Daryl finished hacking up the dead hog and getting as much useful meat as he could off the bones, T-Dog helped him drag the carcass out into the woods and together they dug a hole to bury it deep enough to keep curious predators away.

"Lex okay?" T-Dog asked as they started digging. "She looked pretty ragged, man." Daryl shrugged. He'd stopped looking at T-Dog like he was some despicable bug quite some time ago, but only recently started to grunt semi-full sentences in response. T-Dog didn't feel the need to work hard at curing racism in anyone, but he didn't think he had to keep his mouth shut around Daryl just because his brother made his hatred of other races so obvious.

"She ain't used to livin' outside," Daryl said. "She wanted to come, so I let 'er. We ain't on _vacation_."

"Damn, man," T-Dog laugh. "She's tough, but give her a break. She looks like a freight train ran over her."

"A _hog_ ran over her," Daryl sighed. "Damn thing came outta nowhere... I thought it was a deer..." He shook his head and climbed up out of the hole they'd dug.

"Ain't your fault," T-Dog waved hand dismissively towards the camp. "I heard what Kyle said. He don't know how _much_ you look after her."

"And you do?" Daryl looked up at T-Dog almost challengingly as they stuck their shovels in the ground and walked over to the hog's corpse.

"We all do," T-Dog said. "He don't know shit... and it ain't his business anyway, all right? Look, man, I know you don't like me much since I'm the wrong color and all. And damned if I could figure out why, but when you were gone, it was like she _died_..."

"Will you shut the fuck up and help me get this smelly bastard in the hole?" Daryl snapped, but T-Dog noticed the red flush on his face and knew he'd struck a nerve somewhere. He grinned and grabbed hold of the hind legs, and together they hauled the remains into the grave.

"Rest in peace, Porky," T-Dog said as he dropped the first shovelful of dirt on the carcass. They could already smell the meat roasting by the time the hole was half-filled, but neither of them was willing to admit that it made their neglected stomachs twist painfully.

"That's enough, man," said T-Dog. "I'm starving, let's go."

"Yeah all right," Daryl handed him his shovel, bent to retrieve his crossbow off the ground, and the two started back to camp without speaking further. It was already starting to get dark, and the prospect of sitting down for an actual meal was more than appealing, and T-Dog could already smell the mushrooms Carol was frying in the pork grease to go with the meat... his train of thought broke off as he heard something coming from the woods behind them. He stopped and looked back to see Daryl had heard it as well.

"What the hell was that?" T-Dog whispered loudly. Daryl shook his head, he'd already raised his crossbow and taken a step back in the direction they'd just come. They stood still, straining their ears until the sound was repeated. When it was, they glanced at each other, having clearly recognized the distinct ragged gasp of something undead moving around in the dark. T-Dog dropped one of the shovels and raised the other in a two-handed grip, and nodded once at Daryl. He followed his lead back into the woods as they slowly retraced their steps. They heard the sound twice more, but by the time they were within a few feet of the spot where they'd buried the boar's carcass, the noise had stopped.

"Over there," T-dog nodded to the left, but Daryl shook his head and lowered his crossbow with a frown.

"No," he said. "Straight ahead. Don't sound like a walker, though. Different."

"We should head back," said T-Dog. "Get some lights and more hands."

Daryl stood still a moment longer, listening and hearing nothing. Then he nodded and started to turn and follow T-Dog back to camp. A sudden, loud grunt made them both spin around again, and T-Dog stared as the ground right in front of them appeared to move and thrash around. The grunt sounded again, this time dry and gurgling as whatever was beneath the ground struggled out from under the dirt that...

_The dirt we just covered it with...!_

"Motherfucker," T-Dog said out loud, staring as the hog's carcass defied all sense of reality by struggling to get out of the shallow grave. The head was fully intact, Daryl hadn't bothered to detach it because... well, because there had been no reason to. It gnashed its teeth and struggled to draw breath with lungs that were damaged beyond repair by Daryl's knife, then finally seemed to give up the struggle and lay there, glaring into the darkness with beady black eyes. The smell of roasting meat was overpowering now, and T-Dog looked at Daryl as a sudden realization struck them both at the same time. _Wild hogs can carry diseases like TB and cholera, too. Last thing we need is to git sick or food poisoning..._

"No," said Daryl. "No no _no_..." he was running before the second word left his lips, and T-Dog glanced back at the hog once before running after him.


	21. Strangers

**A/N:** Okay... it's not as weird as you might think, you know. Wild hogs _do_ carry diseases that can be transmitted to humans. In fact, you'd be surprised how destructive they are. But don't worry, we're not adding walker pigs as regular additions to the story... that _would_ be stupid.

So... next weekend I'll be gone again, I'm heading to Rock & Shock and will probably just barely get home in time for the Season 2 premiere. There will of course be photos galore, just like last time. If you know me on Facebook, you might even get to see those photos, *wink wink*

**JoanieNobody** - I'm a 20-year smoker. Trust me, we don't _all_ hoard smokes like medication. Some do, but I was going for behavior and not habit there. It's a good point, though. I do like it when I put in something tiny and someone snatches at it. :)

**Quicksilvermad** - poor Old Yeller. I forgot about that.

**viktorskrumpet** - I always like the multiple viewpoint, it's sometimes very hard, though. I was in the mood, so... yeah. I couldn't sell zombified dogs in this one. I feel like a zombie disease is for the most part a people-only problem.

**AvidReaderWolf** - I'm not sneaky, I'm subtle. Yeah, that's it.

**GingerGidget** - I know when I watch Season 2 I'll regret offing Shane, because I'm sure whatever they have in store for him will be epic and will give me all kinds of ideas.

Thanks also to **twirlgirl2010, Aownr1669, FellowEarthGirl, musicforsanity, AzkadelliaBlast94, pitbullsrok**... and looky, more new faces... Hello and welcome **SaraLostInes, Cotton Strings, ScarletSometimes.**

* * *

><p><em>Where are you going, I dont mind<em>  
><em>I've killed my world and I've killed my time<em>  
><em>So where do I go what do I see<em>  
><em>I see many people coming after me<em>  
><em>So where are you going to <em>

_I don't mind_

_If I live too long Im afraid I'll die_  
><em>So I will follow you wherever you go<em>  
><em>If your offered hand is still open to me<em>

_Strangers on this road we are on_  
><em>We are not two we are one<em>  
><em>So you've been where I've just come from <em>  
><em>the land that brings losers on<em>  
><em>So we will share this road we walk<em>  
><em>And mind our mouths and beware our talk<em>  
><em>till peace we find <em>

_Tell you what I'll do..._

_All the things I own I will share with you_  
><em>If I feel tomorrow like I feel today<em>  
><em>We'll take what we want and give the rest away<em>  
><em>Strangers on this road we are on<em>  
><em>We are not two we are one<em>  
><em>Strangers on this road we are on...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Strangers<br>**

**Alexis**

The sun had officially set and there was a pig roast underway outside Alexis' cabin. Coming together for meals was something that had recently become more enjoyable, perhaps because they actually _had_ meals every night instead of cans of beans or condensed soup and beef jerky. The smell of roasting pig - yes, Daryl... wild hog - was overwhelming almost to the point of nausea. But everyone was more than ready to try something new, perhaps because the diet of rabbit stew and fish was losing its appeal already. Alexis left them to scramble for chairs, plates, drinking water and headed to the cabin with a bucket of warm water for washing.

The six single-room cabins were all identical in size and each was furnished with bunk beds and a tiny wood stove set between them. A single window in each cabin looked out over the lake and allowed light during the day. Although it was still officially winter, they were so far South at this point that the coldest nights required a blanket rather than a superheated tiny cabin, so the wood stove had no purpose other than a pace to put an oil lamp. It was also trap for Alexis' shins if she dared walk around the small space in the dark. The tent she and Daryl had lived in back at the rest stop was bigger, but having solid walls and a real roof overhead made it a fair trade. The bunks were not built for adults, however, and were so narrow that it was impossible for two to share without the risk of someone falling out of bed at night. So they pulled the thin mattresses off the beds and pushed the frames outside to be piled neatly for firewood. Combining the thickness of sleeping bags and the mattresses they indulged in what Alexis called "creative bedding solutions."

As the shed her filthy clothes and washed in the low light provided by the single oil lamp, Alexis let her tired thoughts wander to the subject of food. She was often amused how her odd cravings for things that she had never liked much in the first place, like liver and onions, occasionally dominated her thoughts. She _hated_ liver and onions. Growing up in the Mayfield home meant eating a lot of it, because it was cheap and healthy. Alexis would have willingly starved herself to death rather than eat another plate of liver and onions with bland gluey mashed potatoes on the side. But months on the road eating nothing but beef jerky and peanuts had a way of changing the most picky eating habits, and she'd once even dreamed of finding Daisy Mayfield alive and well somewhere, cooking up a huge batch of the dreaded liver and onions. If that happened, Alexis knew she would probably lick her plate clean without a single complaint and ask for more.

_I am easily amused. And so not picky anymore._

The overnight hunting trips with Daryl had proved to be both adventurous, interesting, uncomfortable and occasionally downright unpleasant. He was completely at ease outdoors, comfortable, amiable and seemingly free of the need to put on a face for others to see. He was definitely in his element outside and could literally sleep almost anywhere. She suspected he took extra time to seek out a sheltered area for camping and pitched a tent for her benefit alone. Without her company, she his idea of shelter probably meant a tarp strung like a hammock between two trees, if any at all. It made her both happy and slightly uncomfortable that he adjusted his habits for her comfort, but she more often felt like she was intruding into a place where he usually went for alone time. He never complained or seemed to mind her company, but she sensed impatience and annoyance when her lack of outdoor skills showed through. He was a brilliant hunter and an excellent tracker, but a terrible teacher.

On the last trip out his patience with her had worn thin quickly when she stepped on a fallen branch and the _snap_ had frightened the deer they'd been tracking into full flight. Daryl immediately blew his top and shouted at her, which of course meant she had to shout back. They'd had a full-on shouting match in the middle of the woods and after Alexis threw a handful of leaves at him - _really, Lex? leaves?_ - they stormed off in opposite directions. She of course, had nowhere to storm off _to_ other than their tiny campsite. She paced angrily for a short while then sat and stirred the fire, thinking how much she hated nature and Daryl Dixon's stubborn male redneck-ness until he returned with two rabbits. He roasted them both over the fire without a word, and they ate in silence. When they were finished he took her plate from her and handed her something he'd pulled out of his pocket. As he placed it in her hand he mumbled an explanation that he'd found it awhile back and wanted to save it for her birthday, but he didn't know when her birthday was, so... there it was. He then left to go wash the plates in the small stream nearby, even though a simple wipe with a sleeve would have sufficed, and Alexis sat looking at the gift in surprise. It was a silver ring, a simple narrow band that was too big for any of her fingers. Not expensive-looking or gaudy by any means, but she owned no jewelry despite the fact that they could have looted something sparkly any time they wanted to. She looked down towards the stream, where he was crouched with his back to her, and slipped the band onto her thumb. When he came back, they had the all-too predictable but always welcome make-up sex and she joked that where she came from women often picked fights to get jewelry apologies, but she hadn't expected it to work out in the middle of the woods. Daryl's reply was that she could expect a rabbit's foot next time, but after that he was out of ideas.

Alexis turned the ring on her thumb now, and considered the possibility that today's wild hog incident might make him argue against her coming with him for different reasons now, and as she discovered nasty bruises forming on her lower shins from where the beast had trampled on her she wondered if she should be learning how to fish instead. The smell of the meat roasting outside made her stomach feel a little queasy and she couldn't shake the headache that had been poking at the back of her eyes all day. She wasn't sure how much she could eat, but considering all the trouble they'd gone to in order to make this feast possible, she figured she should at least make an attempt before coming back here to sleep. She looked longingly at the pillows buried haphazardly beneath blankets and sighed as she pulled on shorts and a clean shirt. She was reaching for the mosquito repellent when she heard shouting outside, T-Dog's voice raised in a way that it almost never did.

She opened the door and looked towards the campfire just in time to see Daryl come running out of the woods at top speed. He paused for a fraction of a second and looked around, then charged straight towards Sophie, who froze at the sight of him bearing down on her so fast. Alexis' jaw dropped as Daryl raised his hand and literally slapped the plate she was holding out of her hands, sending her food flying in all directions. The girl immediately screamed as Daryl grabbed her by the upper arms not too gently, and shouted something at her. Alexis couldn't hear what he was saying over the child's screaming and then Carol's outraged voice added to the chaos as she ran at Daryl and started hitting him on the back of the head and shoulders with her hands. He raised an arm to ward off her blows but held onto Sophie with his free hand, repeatedly asking her something.

Alexis stepped outside and stood rooted to the spot on the top step, staring in complete confusion as Kyle suddenly put himself between Daryl and Sophie and shoved him backwards. When Daryl didn't shove him _back_, Alexis realized something was very wrong and hurried down the steps.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Kyle was shouting at Daryl in a voice none of them had never heard before. Sophie was sobbing almost uncontrollably, and Carol landed one more _smack_ across Daryl's shoulder before running to where she was sitting on the ground behind Kyle.

"You hit her, you asshole! What the _fuck_ is the matter with you!" Kyle advanced towards him with fists clenched, but Daryl was turning away from and heading towards Carl. Lori came out of her own cabin, running to intercept Daryl before he reached him, but Carl took a wild guess at his intentions and dropped his plate of food on the ground. Lori reached him first and pushed him behind her, glaring at Daryl as if daring him to take another step. Rick was suddenly there, one hand on Daryl's chest as he held him back.

"Don't eat it!" T-Dog suddenly crashed out of the woods, nearly falling to the ground from the momentum. "The pig... walkin'... don't ... "

"The hogs are infected," Daryl interrupted him loudly, and Rick took a step back, then turned to look at the side of pork roasting on a spit over the fire. Dale, Andrea and Glenn were all standing nearby. Dale had just opened a bottle of whiskey when everyone had started shouting, and he was still holding it as if about to take a drink.

"The meat's tainted... did anyone eat anything? Even a bite?" Rick shouted so all could hear him, then turned to look at Lori and Carl. They shook their heads at him and Daryl immediately backed off. Glenn very loudly spit out the single mouthful he'd just taken and grabbed the bottle of whiskey out of Dale's hand, and Andrea dropped the platter she'd been holding and wiped her hands on her pants with a look of disgust.

"Nobody ate any, right? Nothin'? Lex? God _damn_," Daryl breathed as Alexis shook her head at him, and put his hands on his knees, hanging his head down for a moment as if he might fall over.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kyle demanded. "How can they be infected? They're animals!"

"No," said Carol, as if she didn't believe it either. "How can they? We've seen hundreds of dead animals. They don't come back!"

"This one did," said T-Dog, sitting on the ground to catch his breath. "I ain't gonna pretend I know why or how. But it did."

"Hogs carry human diseases," said Dale in his always-practical voice as he came towards Daryl. "You said so yourself. Pig organsa re always used for transplants and lab testing, aren't they?" Everyone looked at him as if there was no way he should have known that, but he didn't seem to care.

"Are you two all right?" He frowned at Daryl's suddenly pale face, then looked at T-Dog who had the appearance of a man having a heart attack.

"No," said T-Dog. "And I'm never eating again."

"I didn't _hit_ her," Daryl glowered at Kyle. "I _wouldn't_. Not ever." he glanced at Sophie as he said it, but she was still crying and hiding her face from him. He was surprised to find himself feeling sorry for scaring her. Everyone knew Ed Pelletier had been an abusive prick to both his wife and daughter, and he'd no doubt in his mind the bastard had put his hands on Sophie more than once. But Daryl had nearly panicked when he'd charged into camp and saw the kids about to take big bites of the meat, and he wasn't about to apologize for that.

"Wait a minute," said Kyle. "If that Jenner guy thought we're all infected already, then how would it make a difference either way?"

"No idea," said Daryl. "An' I don't give a shit. You wanna risk it? Help yourself, I ain't gonna stop ya."

"Nobody's risking it," said Rick firmly. "We all know a bite or a scratch _will_ kill us so who's to say eating infected meat won't do the same. Did you put it down for good?" Daryl and T-Dog looked at each other, and T-Dog groaned.

"No," he said. "We just ran straight here."

Alexis stood looking around at everyone with an odd, dazed detachment as Rick jumped into leadership mode. Kyle and T-Dog headed back to the woods to put a bullet through the hog's brain and bury it again. Daryl helped Rick and Dale collect the roasted parts and haul them down to the beach to burn on the campfire, and poor Glenn threw up in the bushes - again - despite the fact that he hadn't actually eaten any of it. Sophie finally calmed down when Carl added his efforts, but she was still shaken and pale when Carol took her to their cabin.

"Seems like we never get a break," Andrea grumbled to Lori as she collected fallen plates from the ground. Lori sighed and glanced at Alexis, who was still standing and looking around in confusion.

"You okay?" she asked her with a frown.

"Yeah. I'm just... wow." Alexis bent and picked up Sophie's plate, shaking the meat onto the ground and grinding it into the dirt with the toe of her boot.

"That's an understatement," Andrea sighed. "Guess we're eating fish again tonight."

"I'll pass," said Alexis. "I haven't been feeling well anyway."

"You look tired," Lori took the plate from her and studied her face for a moment. "Go grab some sleep, I'll let Daryl know where you are."

Alexis nodded and headed back towards the cabin. As she approached she saw Carol sitting on the steps of the furthest one, her face drawn and sorrowful, and altered her course slightly to speak to her.

"She's not hurt," Carol said quietly as Alexis approached. "He scared her half to death, but he didn't hurt her."

"He wouldn't," Alexis said. "He knows what it's like to be too small to fight back."

"He probably saved her life," said Carol, and stood up to head inside for the night. "_I_ should be apologizing to _him_."

As Alexis turned and walked towards her own cabin, she rubbed her bandaged arm and tried to remember if she'd cut herself on the rocks when she fell, or if the wounds had been caused by the boar's tusks. Her throat had started to hurt on the long hike back to camp, but she'd chalked it up to a side effect of being overheated and thirsty, like the stabby-eye headache and upset stomach. She fell asleep almost immediately.

Daryl slipped silently into bed beside her hours later. The day had been so long and strange he didn't want to do anything but sleep, so he took extra care not to wake her. But she mumbled something about being cold so he wrapped himself around her, too exhausted to wonder why she was shivering when it was still at least seventy degrees outside. In the morning he awoke and found her feverish and curled up under the blankets, hugging a pillow and still shivering from chill that shouldn't have been there.

* * *

><p><strong>Rick<strong>

"Wake up," Lori's voice was insistent and had an edge he recognized immediately, even through the haze of sleep.

"Rick, get up. Come on."

"What's wrong?" he rubbed at his eyes to make them work better, and peered at her in the early morning light. "What time is it? Is something wrong?" His hand moved automatically to the very slight swelling on her belly, the first signs of the tiny life growing inside her.

"Not me," she shook her head. "Lex is sick. Daryl says she was wounded by that boar yesterday."

Two minutes later, Rick was hurrying towards the second-to last cabin on the left, still buckling his belt and squinting at the sun slanting through the trees. T-Dog was standing outside with Andrea, Kyle was on the steps looking inside. As Rick stepped through the door, he paused to let his still-sleepy eyes adjust to the darkness. Carol was kneeling on the floor next to the mattress, which contained a single lump of blankets that Rick guessed was Alexis. He glanced at Daryl, who was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the mattress, trying to stay out of the way but not willing to leave.

"Thought she was jus' tired," he said as Rick stepped around Carol and knelt on Alexis' other side. "She said she was cold. She was like this when I woke up."

"She's burning up," Carol said quietly. Rick peered at Alexis' face with his jaw set hard and tried to remember how long it had taken Jim to succumb to the virus. Twenty-four hours and he was delirious beyond any sense. Alexis didn't look anywhere near as bad as Jim had, but she was sweating and shaking as if her blood was boiling right in her veins.

"She'll be thirsty if she wakes up," he said to Carol. She nodded and stood up with a look to Daryl, then headed out of the cabin. Kyle stepped inside hesitantly as she exited, but he stayed close to the door rather than crowd inside.

"Are you sure about the boar?" Rick asked Daryl. "Did it bite her?"

"Tusks," he replied, his voice oddly strained. "She was down on the ground... musta gouged her arm with its tusks."

"You're sure?"

"No," he said. "I didn't _see_, I just saw a big fuckin' pig trying to stomp her to death."

Rick rubbed his face and sighed heavily. Part of him wondered why everyone came running to him whenever things that he couldn't control happened. If Alexis was infected, there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. She would die, and they would be forced to put a bullet between her eyes to make sure she didn't have to die twice.

"Dammit," he whispered, unable to think of anything else to say. Kyle cleared his throat.

"So what do we do?" he asked. Rick looked up at him, but Daryl ignored him and stood up to move around and sit at Alexis' side.

"There's nothing we can do," said Rick. "We've seen how it works. All we can do now is wait and..."

"Just sit here and watch her die?" Kyle interrupted him. "That's all anyone's going to do for her?"

"I'm gonna break his damned neck," Daryl said quietly. Rick put a hand on his shoulder and stood up, then hustled Kyle out the door and steered him away from the others.

"If she's infected, she's going to die," he said bluntly. "Unless you know of a cure that we don't, that's about all there is. Daryl knows that, and so does everyone else here. We'll do what we can to keep her comfortable, but..."

"Comfortable?" Kyle echoed. "Christ, that's what they did for my _dog_ before he died when I was a kid. Kept him _comfortable!_"

"What do you want me to do?" Rick snapped. "Shoot her in the head now and get it over with?"

"I don't know!" Kyle snapped back. "But sitting around to watch her die doesn't sound much better!"

"Hey," T-Dog scowled and walked over to them. "Quiet down, man. What do you want us to do, call an ambulance?"

"Yeah," Kyle snarled. "Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I think we should do."

He stormed off, heading towards his own cabin with fast, angry strides. Rick watched him go, then turned to look at T-Dog. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he simply shook his head and turned to head back to the clinic with a vague intent to find aspirin or something to help Lex when the painful aches and muscle cramps started.

* * *

><p><strong>Alexis<strong>_  
><em>

_In dreams, the line between what is perceived and what is reality is blurred. We never mean to, but in dreams we come to know ourselves so well, everyone else can only be strangers. Then we wake, and the knowledge is gone. The dream is forgotten, and we can only strive to remember what we saw, what we heard, and what was remembered while dreaming. If I could sleep forever, I would. Just slip into that cradle sublime and let it rock us like a helpless child, content to just be until the dream turns to nightmarish reality._

_Living has reduced itself to just a means to move me from one place to the next, when I'd should have just stayed where I was. Life took me far from home and left me stranded, dependent upon these weary limbs to propel me all the way back again. _

_Daryl... It's so hard to change when yourself is all you've ever been. I know that. You try to be different, but it's no use. You either submit to your demons or become one of them. And until you choose, there's only the sleep you're missing because you can't decide if you ever loved me._

_We could waste hours debating what we could've been. But the fact is, we were never anything but ourselves. If I had to change myself to suit anyone, I wouldn't change at all. I'd rather remain the one you almost loved..._

"You're talkin' crazy again," Daryl's voice broke through the blurred haze and deafening roar in her ears. Her throat felt like liquid fire had been poured in, and the brightness of the room made her head pound instantly when she opened her eyes.

"Dreamin," she mumbled thickly, and closed her eyes to block out the light. She head him talking to someone else in the room, and heard the sound of the single curtain over the window being drawn. She opened her eyes again and tried to focus, but could only make out the vague blurry outlines. Someone pressed something against her lips and she drank the cold water gratefully.

Carol. It was Carol's voice she heard as she talked quietly with Daryl, then footsteps walking away and the sound of a door closing.

"Don't," she whispered. "Don't go."

"Not goin' anywhere," Daryl said. She felt his fingers brush over the bandage on her arm, peel up a corner and then smooth it back down.

"Remember what you promised."

"I remember. I'll do us both."

"No, just me. Not you."

"Can't. I'll do us both."

She opened her mouth to argue, to reason, or beg, but he pulled her up so she was leaning against him as he sat with his back against the wall. He kissed her and she forgot what she wanted to say. She let herself drift back towards sleep, comforted by his arms around her and the sound of his heart beating in her ear.

_She risked a quick look back and saw nothing but brownish blackish fur and the biggest goddamned teeth she'd ever seen in her life. The twang of Daryl's crossbow as he let a bolt fly, and the beast chasing her was so close she heard it thump into its thick hide. But the animal barely seemed to notice, aside from another angry grunt. Alexis' heart leaped into her throat as her foot caught on a root and she went down hard and felt the sharpness of the rocks beneath cut into her arm as she landed hard on it, then rolled to grab her machete... _

_"Get up!" Daryl shouted as he dragged the snarling thing off her. She scrambled to her feet and jumped up onto the nearby rock formation as it turned back to charge at her, then climbed up one more to put some distance between herself and..._

"Rocks," she muttered. Daryl's arms were still around her as she slept against his shoulder, but he moved them as she spoke, repositioned her slightly so he could see her face.

"Rocks? Yer dreamin' again."

"Yeah. I remember rocks... cut my arm when I fell."

He moved again, this time lifting her up a little so he could look straight at her.

"Are you sure?"

"I remember," she said. "My birthday is in October."

"Lex," he shook her slightly. "Come on. Did you hurt your arm on the rocks or did the hog get you with its tusks?"

"Rocks," she repeated, and opened her eyes to look right back at him. They were glassy from fever but she seemed lucid, for the moment at least. "I wasn't sure, but I am now."

She laced the fingers of her left hand through his, and he felt the ring he'd given her that she wore on her thumb. As she drifted back to sleep, her head on his chest again, Daryl sat there, holding her while she slept and hoping that her memory was correct. Next to him on the mattress lay the Desert Eagle she carried, loaded and ready just in case it wasn't.

* * *

><p><strong>Kyle<strong>

On the beach, Kyle paced up and down the shoreline thoughtfully. He knew Rick was right, there wasn't anything anyone could do. If Alexis was infected, she was going to die. Period. End of discussion. They'd seen it before, just as he had, and they all know that there was only one solution. The final solution, a bullet in the brain to stop her from becoming one of those mindless, soulless things shambling around long after their time was up. But knowing that he was helpless to stop it from happening didn't make it easier.

Rick had told him that Jim, the one in their group who had been bitten before they headed to the CDC, had lasted just over 24 hours before they'd left him by the side of the road, and from there it was anyone's guess how much longer he'd lived. That 24 hour mark was approaching fast, and Kyle could still do nothing but pace, watch the sky over the lake and wait.

They were going to be angry at him, all of them. He'd been busting his ass to gain their trust and for the most part had been successful. But he hadn't counted on her getting infected by a goddamned pig. That wasn't part of the plan. Keeping her safe from walkers, cannibals, rapists... anything else. Infected pigs were simply never included in the equation. So he'd gone back to his cabin and changed into full fatigues, the same he'd been wearing when he first made his presence known to Rick. Then he'd slipped out quietly and headed down to the beach with the gear he needed, unnoticed by the others who were all hanging around Lex's cabin like some damned death vigil. He supposed that was what it was. They were all waiting for her to die, or by some miracle get better.

He paused in his pacing to check the transmitter he'd set on the rocks. It was still flashing steadily, which meant any military unit in the area with a secure uplink would be able to pick up the emergency distress signal. It was a method he'd used twice, once in a jungle somewhere in South America, and again in the desert outside Baghdad when he needed a fast exit with no questions asked. It seemed a stupid, futile thing to do now. Even if there was anybody able to receive the signal, it seemed ridiculous to even think that they'd drop everything and come running just to...

"What are you doing?"

Kyle looked up in surprise as Glenn appeared out of nowhere. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there, taking in the sight of him in full uniform, weapons slung but ready for use. He looked at the radio and flashing transmitter on the rocks, then back at Kyle with a frown.

"Does that thing work? What is it? What are you doing down here?" Glenn took a couple steps back as the transmitter suddenly started to beep and the light turned from green to yellow. Kyle stepped over and turned the volume down, then pointed binoculars at the horizon across the lake.

"I called an ambulance," he said quietly.

* * *

><p><strong>Daryl<strong>

He awoke suddenly and immediately cursed himself for falling asleep. Carol had been back at some point and left a jug of drinking water on the floor next to the mattress. Alexis was still sound asleep, and had slid down in his arms slightly the further she sank into her sleep. She was burning up, her fever even higher than before, and he laid her down quickly, feeling the worry grip his chest with a cold hand again. She'd said the hog hadn't wounded her... and if her memory wasn't fogged by the fever that very likely meant she wasn't infected with the virus. But even if she wasn't infected with _that_ virus, she was sure as hell infected with something. What the hell was _wrong_ with her?

He looked towards the window, trying to determine how long he'd been sleeping, then reached for the jug of water as he realized his throat was dry and sore. As he took a long drink, he suddenly became aware of somebody shouting outside and moved closer to the window. Glenn was running into the center of the camp, pointing excitedly towards the beach as Rick and T-Dog hurried to meet him. Daryl frowned as Rick glanced towards the cabins, then said something that sent both of them running off in different turned and came towards the cabin with an odd expression on his face.

"What the hell - " Daryl set the jug down and stepped towards the door just as Rick opened it and came was right behind him, and Daryl nodded thanks at her as she pushed past them to check on Alexis.

"We've got company," Rick said, his tone hushed as he spoke quickly as Daryl followed him outside. "Glenn found Kyle down on the beach with some kind of transmitter. He called someone. Military, I'm guessing. But whoever they are, they're coming in across the lake in a helicopter."

"Huh?" Daryl practically stuttered as he tried to absorb everything Rick had just said. "He called the military? After all that shit about disobeyin' orders and not wantin' to... wait a minute... where the hell are they comin' from? He said all the bases were overrun."

"Maybe they are," said Rick. "But they could be coming from somewhere else. Glenn said Kyle told him there were refugee centers, but he was never able to get in contact with any of them." Daryl recognized that excited, hopeful tone he'd heard when Rick had talked about the CDC so long ago. _Oh shit_.

"So why now?" he scowled. "We've been on the road damn near starvin' to death and he didn't offer any rescue squad then. Now Lex gets sick and suddenly he's got a direct link to them? Don't that seem a bit _weird_ to you, Grimes?"

"Yeah, it does," said Rick. "But she's _sick_ Daryl. Maybe they have doctors, someone who can help."

"An' maybe they ain't got nothin' but a helicopter and a place to land it," Daryl argued. The others were gathering around now, their expressions ranging from hopeful to guarded to downright terrified. "I ain't lettin' them take her, Grimes. Don't even ask me."

"Jenner knew how to test for the virus," Rick pressed. "He can't be the only one to have figured that out. Maybe they can at least tell us if she's infected or not..."

"She ain't infected," Daryl blurted out. "I don't know what she's got, but it ain't _that_."

"If she's not infected then whatever _is_ wrong with her can be helped," Rick said. "Maybe she ate poisonous mushrooms, maybe it's just bad flu... dammit Daryl... she needs a _doctor_. This may be what we hoped to find when we left for the CDC."

"Hold on," Dale cut in. "I agree with Daryl, it's a bit too convenient that Kyle suddenly has the ability to make a phone call for help."

"I agree with both of you there," Rick sighed, and looked at Lori as she approached with Carl right behind her. "But they're coming, whether we want them or not. There's not much we can do but hear them out."

They could all hear the sound of the helicopter now, the blades chopping at the air with the distinctive dull thumping sound as it came in across the water.

"Coming in from the West," said Glenn. "Fort Benning? He said that place was dead."

"He said a lot of things," Daryl glared at each of them in turn. "And if y'all are dumb enough to trust 'im just 'cause he's got the _technology_ then maybe you deserve what you get." He turned without another word and hurried up the steps of the cabin, then came out a moment later with a shotgun in his hands and Lex's gun tucked in his waistband.

"Don't be stupid, Grimes," he said simply. "I was just startin' to like you."

Rick looked at him as if he couldn't decide which was more unbelievable, the fact that Daryl Dixon might actually _like_ someone that he wasn't sleeping with, or the fact that he was willing to go toe-to-toe with the military by himself. Daryl pumped the shotgun once and glared defiantly, and Rick heard the sounds of other weapons being prepared around him. He looked around and saw Dale, T-Dog and Andrea had armed themselves and were moving to stand next to Daryl, who tossed Glenn the handgun as he moved to join them.

"All right then," he said as Lori nodded at him and Carol grabbed Carl by the sleeve to hustle him to the RV with Sophie. Dale handed him one of the shotguns from the bag he kept locked in the RV, and Rick took a deep breath and let it out slow, then turned to Daryl.

"If they say they can help her, we have to let them try. Okay?"

Daryl didn't answer, but his eyes flicked away from Rick's for a moment, then back again. It was the closest to agreement he was going to get. The helicopter appeared overhead and circled the area twice, then headed back to the water, presumably to land on the beach. They listened as the steady _chop chop_ of the blades slowed until the trees stopped thrashing violently, then the sound of booted heels could be heard on the steps.

"One question, Grimes," he said quietly as the group formed a line to wait for their new guests.

"What's that?"

"If she is infected, how do you know they won't just shoot her an' then the rest of us?"

"I don't," he said. "I guess I'm just hoping."

"Yeah," Daryl growled. "Hope's gotten us a long way, hasn't it?

* * *

><p><strong>Rick<strong>

He had no reply to that, but their attention was drawn to the stairs as Kyle appeared, leading the way. He stopped and looked at them all, standing together with weapons pointed at him. Daryl looked past him immediately, and counted three people on the stairs behind him, two of them armed and the third walking behind. Kyle turned and said something to them, and the two armed escorts lowered their weapons but made no move to sling them away.

"Everyone take it easy," said Kyle. "This is all there is, all right? No hit squad, no platoon of assassins."

"Fuck easy," said Daryl. "And fuck you."

The two armed men were soldiers, dressed in standard gear that looked worn and beaten, torn in places. They looked at each other tiredly, then back at Daryl. He immediately got the distinct feeling that they were trying to decide if it was even worth the effort to take them all on. The third new arrival stepped around them and walked straight forward with a confident stride. The woman looked to be in her mid fifties, with dull brownish hair liberally streaked with gray. She had a similar tired look to her, but she was dressed in civilian clothing and wore her hair in a long braid down her back.

"My name is Janice Stevens," she said, her voice hard and with a defensive edge as she studied the unwelcoming group. "I'm a doctor, and I understand one of your group is sick." She was speaking to Daryl since he had been the one to speak first, but her eyes traveled over him quickly and she frowned very slightly as if unsure why he was the leader of the group.

"She might be infected," Rick spoke up, and the woman turned to look at him. She appraised him the same way, then nodded as if in approval. "And she might not. We're not sure."

"She ain't infected," Daryl said stubbornly.

"I see," she replied. "Listen folks, I'll tell you right up front. I didn't want to come here. We've got plenty of sick people back at the village that need my attention. I can do a blood test on your friend and tell you if she needs a bullet in the head or not. It's up to you. But please don't waste my time." She glanced around as she spoke, taking in the area and noting the details such as chairs, laundry lines, rabbit skins and cooking setups in view. Sophie and Carl came into view, stepping out of the RV curiously.

"You appear to have a nice place here," she said to Rick, her tone a bit softer. "But if there's infected here, it won't be nice for long."

Rick looked at Daryl, who seemed to be wavering between yes and no. He shook his head angrily at Rick and took a step back towards the cabin. The woman had already turned and gestured at one of the soldiers, and he came forward to hand her a small black doctor's bag. She held it out to Daryl, and he blinked in confusion.

"I thought you'd like to search it first," she said. Daryl frowned and lowered the shotgun, and she sighed impatiently.

"She's in there, I take it?" She pushed past Daryl without waiting for an answer and climbed the four steps to the cabin door. Daryl started after her, then hurried after her with the shotgun in hand. One of the soldiers looked alarmed and started after them, but Kyle shook his head and raised a hand. Andrea was already following Daryl, although whether it was to back him up or stop him from getting in the doctor's face was anyone's guess.

"It's okay," he said. "I get the feeling she'll chew him up and spit him out if he tries to get mean."

"If anyone here should be worried about Daryl, it's you," said Rick. He came forward to stand right in front of Kyle, fully prepared to drill him for answers, but the two soldiers immediately drew back slightly instead of moving protectively as Rick thought they might. He frowned as one of them actually walked over to one of the cabins and sat down tiredly on the lower steps to light a cigarette, completely at ease. The other one had approached the group with both hands raised and was now talking to Dale and Glenn in quiet tones.

"They don't know you," Rick said quietly, and Kyle nodded.

"And I have no idea who they are," he said. "But I'll tell you right now, they are not special forces and I doubt even regular Army. I'm thinking National Guard or some local defense."

"Is that good or bad?" Rick frowned, and Kyle studied the two of them in silence for a moment.

"I guess it's good," he decided. "I'd rather not have any uniforms recognize me. But the real question is, how did they pick up my signal if they aren't special forces?"

"Ask them," Rick said.

"I did," said Kyle. "They said they were just following orders. Said I could ask their CO when we go to the village."

"If we go," said Rick. "Nobody's going unless we all want to go, and I can tell you right now most of us don't."

"They have a doctor, Rick," Kyle reminded him. "Lori's going to need one. You know that."

* * *

><p>Doctor Janice Stevens spent exactly half an hour examining Alexis. She frowned with some alarm at the high fever, drew two vials of blood and held them up to the light to study the color, then laid both hands against her belly and pressed down hard with her fingers.<p>

"Liver is enlarged," she said, her tone low as if speaking to herself. "Did she throw up? Any convulsions?"

"No," Daryl looked alarmed. "She was fine yesterday - "

"She said she hadn't been feeling well," Andrea interrupted. "All day at least."

"Headache? Chills? Any appetite?" She continued to fire questions at them, and lifted Alexis' eyelids one at a time. She then nodded and stood up, gathering the blood sample and her bag as she headed to the door without a word. Daryl and Andrea looked at each other, then hurried to catch up to her.

"Hey," Andrea called. "Wait a minute. What's the matter with her?"

"I think she has Malaria," Doctor Stevens replied without turning around as she headed towards where Rick and Kyle were standing. "Have to run the blood test to be sure. But if it was the Walker Virus she'd be a lot more advanced. I'm sure of that."

"Malaria?" Andrea echoed. "How do you even catch that?"

"Mosquitoes," Doctor Stevens said flatly. The stopped walking and turned to look at the entire group, who had all gathered anxiously when she appeared. "You live near a swamp. I'm sure you have plenty of mosquitoes. He looks like hell. Is he feverish?" she gestured towards Daryl as she said the last, who had sat down on the steps of one of the cabins as if suddenly exhausted. He did indeed look like he might be, and his skin had a grayish cast to it.

"You'd all better come back with us," she said to everyone. "At the very least, let me check the children. They'll have a harder time with it if they've caught it."

"The children aren't sick," Rick said, but glanced at Lori uncertainly.

"Maybe not," she agreed. "But it's better to be sure. Your choice."

"Is there enough room for us all?" Rick asked, and she looked at the soldier sitting on the steps for an answer. He shook his head and held up four fingers, and she turned to study the rest of the group.

"We can take four," she said. "Those two, and the children. But you've got vehicles, the rest of you can come in that RV, can't you? I'll draw you a map."

"No way," Daryl and Rick said at the same time.

"We stay together," Rick said.

"Malaria is a medical emergency," Doctor Stevens insisted. "She needs treatment _now_, before it gets worse."

"Daryl," Kyle said. "Alexis, you and Rick go in the helicopter. That guy - " he pointed at the soldier who had been talking with Glenn, "Shows the rest of us the way in the RV. If he gets us lost, I'll shoot him myself. Fair?"

Daryl glanced at him, then at Rick, then at the soldier thoughtfully, who looked as if he didn't think it was fair at all. Finally he nodded reluctantly and stood up to head into the cabin. Rick spent a few more precious moments trying to convince Lori, and passed Kyle one of the walkie talkies. The two soldiers discussed the best route by road, and Daryl emerged from the cabin, carrying Alexis with an expression so grim one might have thought he was carrying her to her funeral.

"I still think this is a bad idea," he mumbled to Rick as they boarded the helicopter and settled Alexis on the stretcher the doctor had laid out for them. Moments later, Rick was watching out the window as the helicopter rose up from the beach and Lori grew smaller and smaller as they moved away.

"I'm starting to wonder if there's any such thing as good ideas anymore," he said to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Kinks, _Strangers_


	22. Quarantined

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry I've been gone so long. I went to Rock & Shock in Massachusetts last weekend and have almost literally been recovering ever since. Crazy fun! If you're following me on Facebook there's photos there. My Facebook ID is JadeSun12

Now... where were we?

* * *

><p><em>There's a little black spot on the sun today<em>  
><em>That's my soul up there.<em>  
><em>It's the same old thing as yesterday<em>  
><em>That's my soul up there.<em>  
><em>There's a black hat caught in a high tree top<em>  
><em>That's my soul up there.<em>  
><em>There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop<em>  
><em>That's my soul up there.<em>

_I have stood here before in the pouring rain_  
><em>With the world turning circles running 'round my brain.<em>  
><em>I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign,<em>  
><em>But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...<em>

_There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall_  
><em>There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall<em>  
><em>There's a blue whale beached by a springtime's ebb<em>  
><em>There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web<em>

_There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out_  
><em>There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt<em>  
><em>There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed<em>  
><em>There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread<em>

_There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack_  
><em>There's a black-winged gull with a broken back<em>  
><em>There's a little black spot on the sun today.<em>  
><em>It's the same old thing as yesterday,<em>  
><em>That's my soul up there.<em>

_I have stood here before in the pouring rain_  
><em>With the world turning circles running 'round my brain.<em>  
><em>I guess I always thought you could end this reign,<em>  
><em>But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Quarantined<strong>

Rick stood on the edge of the helicopter pad, looking down at the scene below him. To say that his heart sank into his stomach would be an understatement, but he tried to hold back on passing judgement until he knew what exactly he was looking at. The walkie talkie on his belt suddenly issued two static-filled clicks, Kyle's signal that they were on the road and nothing seemed out of place just yet.

Glenn had been right, the helicopter had indeed come from Fort Benning. But Kyle had also been right, the area had been completely overrun with walkers during the early stages of the outbreak and no functioning military remained. The area was still considered "hot" by outbreak standards, but the initial surge of hungry walkers had long since been decreased to the usual shambling crowd. Walkers roamed the less secure areas of the base freely, and the base's single air traffic tower now doubled as a watchtower for keeping watch on the perimeter.

A single National Guard army unit had set up in the southeast corner of the base, using two large aircraft hangars as their shelter. Behind those hangars stood row after row of army-green tents of all sizes, the largest clearly marked with the familiar red cross as mobile medical units. They had three pilots capable of flying helicopters and small aircraft, but for the most part they were the traditional weekend warriors who worked for a living and served in the guard intermittently. The entire area was surrounded by an ugly cinder-block wall and topped with razor wire, but they had put considerable effort into further securing their safe haven by erecting a heavy duty chain-link fence outside the wall at the highest walker-traffic points.

The helicopter pad was on the roof of a smallish two-story building, which turned out to be a functioning hospital that lacked staff more than anything else. Rick stood close to the edge of the roof, looking down at the camp spread out below him and trying not to see how ugly and uninviting it was. He heard shouting behind him and looked back to see Alexis being lifted out of the helicopter on a stretcher by the three men wearing hospital scrubs who had been waiting for them when they landed. They settled her onto a wheeled gurney and were trying to whisk her off, but Daryl was of course getting in the way. Rick tried to unclench his jaw as Daryl shoved one of the armed guards hard when he situated himself between him and the gurney. He reached for the walkie-talkie on his belt and clicked the receiver three times, sending his own unspoken signal to Kyle that they had arrived safely. That was all he really could do, though. At the moment he saw no call to warn them off. Not yet anyway.

Doctor Stevens was talking on the radio in the cockpit but she hopped out quickly when Daryl started to make a scene and added herself to the argument. Rick hurried over and put a hand on her arm to get her attention, and she gestured in frustration for him and Daryl to both follow her so they could at least get off the pad and out of the deafening noise range of the helicopter. Alexis disappeared into an elevator with her unknown escorts, and Rick realized they had power in the building.

"What is this place?" he demanded as soon as they were in the shelter of the stairwell. "Is this the village your men were talking about? If this where you want me to bring my family?" She was leading the way down the stairs, moving so fast Rick and Daryl had to hurry to keep up. Rick could hear Daryl breathing a little harder than he should and wondered if he was indeed sick, too.

"First, they aren't _my_ men," she said. "I'm not a general or a captain or any rank at all. I'm a doctor, period. Second, no this isn't the village. This is Fort Benning, and since nobody else is using it, we are. It's a refugee center and quarantine zone. Nobody gets into the village until they sit tight here for 72 hours and get a clean bill of health."

"Okay, I can see that," Rick said. "But is there a reason we need to go to this village?"

"Or a reason we _want_ to?" Daryl interjected. His tone was low and challenging, the one everyone at the Atlanta camp had become accustomed to long ago.

Doctor Stevens pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs, and they found themselves following her down a hallway that was just as white and uninteresting as any other white hallway in any hospital. A young man who seemed barely older than a teenager met them at the end of the hallway with a small stack of clipboards in his hand. He passed them to Doctor Stevens one at a time, and for a moment Rick and Daryl were ignored while the two talked quietly. They both caught sight of a stretcher being wheeled off the elevator further down the hall, and Rick saw Daryl lean sideways to watch and make note of which side room it was taken to, then he suddenly leaned against the wall as if dizzy and winded.

"You all right?" Rick asked him in a lowered tone. "If Lex caught Malaria while you two were off running around in the woods, it's a safe bet that you did too."

"Whatever," Daryl growled, but it didn't contain the usual force of anger and he looked like he just wanted to sit down.

Finally they had the doctor's full attention, and she beckoned at Daryl with one finger then led the way to a small room on the left. It was a procedure room obviously set up to draw blood, and Daryl balked in the doorway like a cat being asked to take a bath.

"You want to see your friend? You take a blood test, both of you. This is a hospital, there are sick people. If you're carrying Malaria we need to know. It's that simple, there's nothing tricky about it."

"I asked you a question," Rick said.

"Sit down, let the nurse draw your blood, then come see me and I'll answer it. I'm going to see to your friend now." She mumbled something about finding a nurse and left the room abruptly.

"She reminds me of my school principal when I was ten," Rick commented. "I was scared to death of her."

"Can't wait to see the nurse," Daryl mumbled. He glanced around almost as if checking to make sure nobody was watching, then sat down in one of the chairs.

"At least they _have_ a nurse," Rick sat down in the chair opposite him. "Would you rather _she_ stuck you with a needle?"

They both looked up as the nurse appeared in the doorway, and Daryl might have laughed out loud if he didn't feel so completely horrible. The nurse was a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, tall, heavyset and bald with a small black goatee. He was carrying a tray covered in a sterile cloth and set it down on the small counter in the corner without looking at either one of them.

"Blood test takes 24 hours," he said, his back turned to them both as he pulled a pair of latex gloves from a dispenser on the wall. Rick frowned as something struck him as familiar about the young man's voice, and he glanced at Daryl. He hadn't appeared to notice anything, though, and was rubbing his eyes as if they hurt.

"Usually you wait in full quarantine, but Doc says you _vatos_ haven't been bit so it's just procedure. Who wants to get stabbed first?"

Rick blinked in surprise as something connected between the nurse's choice of words and his voice. He turned around with the needle in his hand and his eyes settled on Daryl for the first time since he'd entered the room, and for a moment they just blinked at each other. Recognition hit them all at the same time, and Daryl glanced at the needle.

"Shit," said Daryl. "You're that guy who..."

"You're that _punto_ that shot me in the ass," Felipe growled.

"Uh oh," said Rick.

* * *

><p>"They're okay," Kyle said quietly to Lori, and held up the walkie with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She forced one back at him, then turned her attention back to the window. They had been on the road for just under an hour, Dale driving as always but the soldier who introduced himself to them all as John rode shotgun to act as navigator. At first he was quiet and seemed more than a little displeased at being forced to ride with them in the RV, but Kyle chatted him up with enough friendly persistence to get him to open up a little.<p>

They were heading to Fort Benning first, which was set up as a refugee center, but the hospital there also served as a mandatory quarantine area for anyone who wanted to go to the village. Alexis would be treated for her Malaria there, but they would all have to have a blood test. Standard procedure, he explained. They wouldn't let anyone who was sick into the village, not even a common cold. A clean bill of health was required to get in.

"You turn people away if they have a cold?" Lori asked.

"No, not at all," John laughed. "We just ask them to stay at the refugee center until they're over it. Disease just about took down the human race... people get nervous when there's sickness around."

Kyle made a slight sound under his breath, like a _humpf_. He glanced at the others and wondered if they'd noticed how John continued to speak in the past tense about the trials of humanity these days. As if they were somehow over and it was time to move on. Everyone else was looking out the widows or just staring off into space. _Uprooted again_, he mused. Opinions were something he kept to himself as a general rule, but these people had one thing and one thing only on their minds: finding a home. Things were looking good back at the lake, but even Kyle hadn't considered something as simple and deadly as malaria might ruin their new happy home. He turned his attention back to John, who was now talking more and more openly about his favorite subject.

The village was exactly what it sounded like, a village. It was once a small township with a name that had been forgotten already, but had become a safe haven for many survivors who found their way in from the cities. Situated in the countryside somewhere along the Georgia / Alabama state line it was off the beaten path and the walker encounters were so few they were easily forgotten. They'd established a simple town leadership composed of three elected persons, but there were no real laws or any kind of government in place. John painted a wide, loose portrait of a picturesque Southern town with normal people living normal lives, and Kyle didn't believe a word of it. But he smiled and nodded anyway as if he were talking about a vacation getaway and commented on the nicest-sounding points, which encouraged John to talk more.

A river ran through the center of the village, and John focused on the beauty of it for a few minutes until Andrea rolled her eyes and moved to the back of the RV to get away from his droning voice. John spoke of hunting parties, Sunday feasts that involved roasted deer and the entire village, wheat fields and the many gardens that provided fresh vegetables that everyone shared. They had cows for milk, chickens for eggs and meat. There was an old woman who knew how to mill the wheat and make bread, something that no scientist would have ever considered important when determining what was needed for survival. Carl and Sophie were practically drooling at this point, and John further enticed them by talking about the apple jelly the same old woman made to spread on homemade toast...

"Oh, give it a rest," Andrea said loudly. "Next you'll be offering them candy and trying to sell us a house, all the while telling us what a nice place it is to raise a family."

"I don't have any candy," John blinked at her. "But I guess it is a nice place for families..."

"I'm sure it is," Kyle shot her a look and she glared back. "You'll have to excuse us if we all seem a little less _trusting_ than you'd like. These folks have already encountered some of the less friendly types, if you know what I mean." John's expression turned serious and he nodded.

"We know there are cannibals out there," he said, more quietly so the children couldn't hear them. "_Cannibals._ I don't understand that at all. We kill them on sight, you know. They don't get a second chance."

"What about murderers?" Dale asked, keeping his attention on the road. "Rapists, thieves? Men don't have to be cannibals to do bad things."

"There aren't any," John said firmly. "Not in the village. Thieves, yes of course sometimes. When we first got there one of the women was raped, but they caught the man who did it and shot him. We don't have the luxury of being tolerant."

"Martial law," Dale muttered, but John shook his head.

"No, not really," he said. "It's just people looking out for each other. That's what you all do, right? Just live and look out for each other? We do the same thing. There's just more of us."

"And a helicopter," Glenn said. John grinned at him and nodded.

"Yeah. We found it at Benning. Lots of equipment just sittin' there not being used. I guess that's how Brian picked up your signal, he's good at tinkerin' with the computers and stuff."

"Brian?" Kyle asked, and John yawned and unfolded the map he 'd been holding.

"My C.O."

"His commanding officer's name is Brian," Kyle repeated, and nodded at Glenn as if it made perfect sense.

"Awesome," said Glenn.

"Can we skip the blood test if we're not going to the village?" Carol spoke up. "Sophia hates needles."

John looked at her as if _not_ wanting to go to the village was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard of, but then shrugged.

"I guess. But you have to talk to the Doc," he said. "At the hospital, she's the boss."

* * *

><p>Daryl tested positive for malaria, something which came as no real surprise to Rick or Doctor Stevens. Even though his fever and symptoms had very quickly gotten worse, he was still much better off than Alexis and Stevens didn't hesitate to tell him how lucky he was that they'd caught it before it got worse. She tried to get him to a bed, but he flat-out refused and very rapidly turned into the typical patient from Hell and nobody had the patience to deal with him for more than a few moments at a time. Rick had vanished right after the blood draw and a hushed conversation with Felipe, leaving the small hospital staff alone and unable to deal with the angry Dixon who wasn't willing to let anyone touch him until he saw Alexis. When Rick finally did return, he found Daryl standing unsteadily outside her room, looking through the observation window and chewing on his thumbnail.<p>

She was still sleeping. They had hooked her up to an IV and hung bags marked _Chloroquine_ above her head, something that they apparently had plenty of. Daryl listened intently to every word spoken by anyone in the room, but his brain was tired and starting to get foggy the longer he stood there. He'd allowed Felipe to start an IV and hook him up to the same treatment, and hadn't complained when he took three hard stabs at him before locating the vein. Payback for the arrow in the ass, perhaps. But he'd refused to let them put him in a bed and dragged the IV stand with him down the hall to Alexis' tiny room.

"Christ, Daryl," Rick hissed when he put one hand on the window ledge to support himself. "Will you at least go sit down before you fall down?" Daryl looked at him blearily, and Rick shook his head, then took hold of the arm that hadn't been stuck by needles and pushed him into Alexis' room to the ugly and overstuffed chair sitting in the corner right next to her stretcher.

"She's anemic," Doctor Stevens came through the door, reading the results of Alexis' blood work out loud without looking at either of them. "Red blood cell count is way too low. No liver or kidney damage, so that's good. She's a type A, we'll need to get her some blood to increase her reds. You're an A, Grimes. Care to donate? Oh, and your friends just arrived. We're testing the kids and your wife for malaria. You should have told me she was pregnant, you know. And somebody better put that jerk in a bed or I'll sedate him and drag him there myself."

Daryl gave her the finger, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. She made two marks on the paper with a pen and walked out just as quickly as she'd come in. Rick stood there and blinked for a moment, then processed the part about the others arriving.

"You should get some rest," he said to Daryl, knowing it was a futile suggestion. He wasn't going to leave Alexis alone with people he didn't trust, and right now that list was about as short as it had ever been. Daryl leaned on the side of her bed and glared at him, as if you say that was as good as it was going to get. Rick decided that the fact that he was at least sitting down was good enough for now.

"Fine," he said. "Just don't give Felipe a hard time if he comes back. He's on her side, too you know. I'm going to check on the others."

Daryl scowled as Rick left the room. He didn't like being told what to do, especially when it included being scolded like a child. More than that, he hated feeling weak and sick. He'd never been sick. Injured, beat up... sure. But never sick. Childhood diseases had always avoided him as if even they didn't want anything to do with him, and he never even caught so much as a slight cold. But here he was, in the middle of a fucking apocalypse with malaria.

"This sucks," he muttered. Alexis twitched and muttered something unintelligible in her sleep, and Daryl imagined she was agreeing with him. It did suck, big time. He knew this bunch wasn't cut out for hard outdoor living, but at the camp they had roofs over their heads and everything they needed to live healthy if not always in comfort. The lakeside camp had been perfect in his rarely-asked-for opinion. He supposed they could go back once Alexis was better and get the rest of their stuff, but if mosquitoes were going to pose a threat almost as bad as walkers... _and let's not forget the goddamned hogs_... then it didn't make sense to stay. They'd have to move on again.

Daryl didn't realize his eyelids had grown heavy and started to close until a high-pitched shriek followed by the sound of a girl sobbing in terror snapped him out of his light sleep. He started to leap out of the chair and run for the door, but the IV snagged, pulled painfully on his arm and he sat back down immediately as a dizzy wave passed over him.

"You pull that thing out and you'll bleed all over," said a voice, and Daryl blinked blurry eyes at the dark form standing in the doorway. He recognized Kyle's voice and scowled again. _Oh, perfect_.

"It's Sophia," Kyle said, coming forward slowly as if tired from a long journey. "She's scared of needles."

"They're takin' blood from everyone," Daryl mumbled and leaned his head back again. "Everywhere we go."

"Doc says they're testing everyone for malaria," Kyle said. Daryl opened one eye and looked at him. It was easier to focus when there weren't two Kyles in the room.

"You don't believe her," he said. It bothered him somewhat that he'd gotten to know Kyle enough to know when he was hearing doubt in his voice.

"Seems a reasonable explanation," Kyle shrugged. "But she doesn't make eye contact with anyone. She hasn't since we got here."

"So?" Daryl grumbled. "She ain't friendly. Fine by me. We're leavin' as soon as we can anyway."

"Rick wants to check out the Village," Kyle said, standing on the other side of Alexis' stretcher and tucking his hands into his pants pockets. "And it seems to me you both could use the rest."

Daryl didn't answer, and when Kyle glanced at him he saw he'd finally given into the exhaustion brought on by a malaria virus and fallen asleep with his head on the back of the overstuffed chair. He watched him for a moment, making sure he was really asleep, then glanced back at the door to the hall before he turned his attention back to Alexis and leaned forward until his face was only inches from hers. He knew Daryl probably would have killed him on the spot for what he did next, but the redneck was asleep and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Gotta go, kiddo," he whispered, and kissed her forehead lightly. He straightened up and slipped a chain from around his neck, holding onto the dog tags so they wouldn't clink together as he carefully slipped it around her neck and tucked it out of sight under her shirt. "You'll be safe here. Stay sharp, and get strong again."

Noise from the hallway filtered in, a clang of metal on metal as workers attended to some maintenance-related need. Kyle reached under the back of his jacket and pulled out Alexis' pistol, which had been confiscated from Daryl the moment they arrived on base. Kyle had immediately confiscated it back without anybody noticing a thing and tucked it away with his own sidearm for safe keeping. He tiptoed around the stretcher towards Daryl and tucked the gun behind him and into the top of his belt, then stepped back to give both of them one last look before quietly slipping out of the room and down the hall towards the stairwell exit.

_Just one more loose end needs tying up now_, he thought to himself as he started down the stairs as a quick pace.

* * *

><p>The medical clinic at Fort Benning was, as it turned out, the smallest medical unit on the base. It had originally housed two full hospitals and three clinics that served the surrounding community as well as the base personnel and their families. Doctor Janice Stevens had chosen the smallest of the facilities for the most practical of reasons, it would require less energy to keep it running. She held no unrealistic expectations of being able to save those who could not be saved, her intent was simply to fix what could be fixed and keep out what could not be fixed. And so far, it had worked. The fact that she had the bedside manner of a pit bull didn't seem to bother anyone, not even little Sophia who at first flat-out refused to allow the male nurse, Felipe, to draw her blood.<p>

Stevens took the needle from him impatiently and drew the girl's blood herself, expertly hitting the vein in the first try and barely causing her even the slightest prick of pain. Sophia blinked in surprise as the older woman swiftly removed the needle, pressed a cotton ball on the tiny point of blood, then sealed it with a purple bandaid and a wink all in the space of a minute. She handed the vial to the young woman waiting behind her with a marker.

"Just one more, that soldier fellow. Go find him, he's the last." The woman scribbled a number on it and scurried away, almost running into Rick as he appeared in the doorway behind her.

"So what's next?" Rick asked, and Stevens looked up at him briefly, then turned her attention back to the clipboard in front of her.

"Quarantine for 72 hours," she said. "As long as the blood tests all come back clean, and I'm sure they will, one of our drivers will take you to the village. You can stay here in the clinic if you like, we've got plenty of beds."

"Okay," said Rick. "But what if we're not going to this village? We haven't all decided that's where we want to go."

"Oh?" She looked at him in surprise, as if that thought hadn't even occurred to her. "Well, then I suppose you can do whatever you want. The quarantine is for the residents' safety. I just assumed you were going, John said you all seemed interested in finding a safe place to live."

"It might be worth checking out," Rick admitted. "But as far as a place to live, I think we all need to be our own judge on that."

"Suit yourselves," she shrugged. "But even if you're just checking it out, you have to stay _here_ for 72 hours. No exceptions. Oh, and your friends..." she glanced at the clipboard again. "Alexis and Daryl. They aren't contagious, but they're both going to be pretty weak for awhile, especially her. I can't stop you from leaving, but I can and _will_ stop you from dragging her back onto the road before she's strong enough. Clear?"

Rick blinked as she left the room without waiting for a response, then turned around to see Glenn, Dale and T-Dog coming up the long hallway towards him.

"What is this village?" he said. "And why does everyone assume we want to go there?"

"I asked around," said Dale. "Everyone here lives there, but they come to work rotating skeleton crew shifts. Refugees straggle in from time to time, but lately they're few and far between. The soldiers we saw are remnants of a National Guard unit. Not many of them, a couple pilots and technicians mostly. However Kyle was able to send a signal - and I'd still like an explanation about that - they had the equipment to pick it up and find him."

"The girl with the blood samples told us the village is about twenty miles west of here," said Glenn. "She said it used to belong to some religious group, the kind that cut themselves off from the world. Said they didn't even have electricity so they weren't really missing anything when it all went away. She said they're mostly just a farming community now, been taking in refugees after they pass the doc's quarantine."

"And if they don't pass?" Rick asked, and all three shrugged.

"I guess they don't get in," T-Dog said.

"We can't know anything for sure until we see it," said Dale. "I think we should check it out, Rick. There are families there, children. They seem confident that it's safe. Might be an ideal place for a baby to be born."

Rick subconsciously reached up to take off his hat the way he did when he was thinking hard, then remembered he'd left it back in the room Lori and Carl were resting in. Doctor Stevens had given Lori a quick examination and seemed confident that both mother and baby were healthy, although she did make a slight fuss over Lori's thin appearance and ordered food be brought to everyone immediately. And judging from that food, the stories about abundant farming were at the very least truthful.

"Let's sleep on it," he finally said. "Alexis and Daryl are down for the count anyway. Maybe everything will make more sense in the morning."

"They took our weapons," Dale said quietly as Glenn and T-Dog ambled towards Alexis' room. "Said it was just a precaution."

"Not all of them," Rick said, then glanced up and down the hallway once before passing Dale a small revolver. "Kyle lifted a few after they disarmed us."

"Daryl's crossbow is in the RV," said Dale, taking the weapon and slipping it into a pocket. "And Kyle's rifles. They won't find them unless they really search. But I'm not getting any sense that these people mean any harm, Rick. Seems to me they're just being cautious about strangers."

"So am I," Rick smiled and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, and the two of them headed down the hall towards the small cafeteria where the others had all gathered when the food arrived.

Rick paused in the doorway and watched Carl and Sophia giggling over some private joke while they ate what appeared to be homemade bread and gulped soup from cafeteria-white bowls. Andrea and Lori sat at the next table, deep in conversation over similar bowls and plates of food. Across the room, Carol was speaking with the young woman who had collected their blood samples and had apparently been assigned to stay with the group, for reasons Rick wasn't quite sure of. A guard, perhaps? Or just a hostess? She had not been introduced to any of them, but Rick had heard the doctor call her Naomi.

"Dad!" Carl called to him, and everyone turned to face him. "They have _peanut butter_, Dad! Look!" Everyone laughed at his enthusiasm, even Andrea allowed a smile to form for the first time since they'd arrived.

"Enough preservatives to last for years," Lori gestured towards the enormous tub of peanut butter sitting on the counter.

"Preservatives or not, it won't last years with Carl around," Rick chuckled. He stepped forward into the room, then stopped short as the sound of gunshots from outside rang through the halls clearly. Then what sounded like a fire alarm rang three times, and people were suddenly running up and down the hallways.

"Walkers," Naomi said breathlessly as she rushed past him. "Walkers inside the perimeter!" She went right down the hallway, running to where the few patients were housed. Rick went left, heading for the stairs with T-Dog and Glenn right behind him. On the stairwell they were almost run over by three uniformed guards, who didn't bother to slow down, just waved at them to follow. Rick picked up the pace until he was right behind them, pulling out a gun that he wasn't supposed to have.

"Hangar seven," one of the guards shouted. "Tower spotted about half a dozen of them practically inside."

"How did they get in?" Rick called, but they both ignored him. Rick hung back slightly, holding up a hand so Glenn and T-Dog slowed with him as the two guards approached the hangar at a full run with weapons unslung and hot. One walker stumbled into view as they approached, but the guards dropped it quickly and finished it with a second shot.

"Hold on," Rick said, and gestured at three more guards approaching the hangar from the other side. "Too much lead in there, We don't want to run into the crossfire." Even as he spoke, three shots rang out inside, followed by shouts echoing off the hangar walls as the guards stormed inside. More shouting followed, and Rick quickly tucked his gun out of sight again as he hurried up to the hangar's side door.

"It's Kyle," Glenn said, even though Rick and T-Dog could certainly see him for themselves. He stood with his hands slightly raised and dropped his sidearm to the floor as the armed guards gathered around him. The floor was littered with the corpses of walkers, Six or more at least, but directly in the middle of the carnage lay the body of a uniformed guard, face, neck and chest torn beyond recognition.

"Holy shit," said one of the guards. "Is that Brian? Walkers ate him! Holy shit!"

"I heard him shouting," Kyle said breathlessly. "I was coming down here to check out the radio equipment. They were already on him." Kyle scowled angrily at the guards until they lowered their weapons.

"Why didn't the towers see them before they got inside?" He demanded. "Is there anybody even up there? What the hell kind of watch do you grunts even have planned out?"

The guards glanced at each other uncertainly, and Rick cleared his throat. Kyle turned to look at him with a look of surprise.

"Who is this guy?" Rick asked.

"He's our commanding officer," one of the guards answered with a nervous gulp.

"Commanding officer," Kyle scoffed. "_Brian_ probably worked at Best Buy. You guys are out here playing military with no fucking clue - "

"Hey," Rick interrupted. "Easy. Maybe he did work at Best Buy. It's not his fault the world ended. Right?"

Kyle looked down at the body of the unfortunate soldier with a cold, disgusted look Rick had never seen before, then sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face as if wiping away bad thoughts.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Well, I guess you guys need a new CO then. Brian just resigned his commission."

"Does the base have a working incinerator?" Rick asked. All of the guards were at ease now, having put away their weapons to poke at the mess before them in morbid fascination.

"Yeah," said the one who had spoken first. "But we don't run it at night. "We'll get a cleanup crew here and take them all over there. Burn 'em in the morning."

"Better check on that tower," Rick suggested. "He's right. Half a dozen walkers shouldn't be able to just stroll in here without being seen."

"Yessir," the man saluted before darting away, and Rick shook his head.

"My god, these boys want a leader," he sighed and turned towards Kyle. But he was already gone, having departed out the back door of the hangar and leaving it swinging open. Rick frowned in confusion and turned to look at Glenn, who could only shrug. He'd slipped out so fast nobody had seen him leave.

The cleanup crew arrived several minutes after being called on the radio, made up of two men driving a flatbed army truck. As they started dragging walkers by their feet towards the truck, Rick stepped over to the dead man the men had called Brian and took a closer look. At some point during the chaos, a single bullet had been fired into the center of his forehead, guaranteeing that the man wouldn't get up again. But Rick noticed something else and leaned a little closer, frowning at the man's neck and trying not to gag as he studied the mangled meat that used to be flesh.

It was hard to see under the mess of teeth marks and shredded flesh, but the wound directly over the jugular on the left side of his neck was clean, almost surgical. On the other side, was the other corner of the cut, equally clean and calculated. Rick studied the ground around the body and took note of the pattern made by arterial blood spray. _His throat was cut._ The walkers had torn him to pieces, but not before his throat had been cut, precisely and cleanly from one side to the other.

Rick stood up as the men came to collect the body, and stepped back out of the way. Glenn had already returned to the hospital to tell the others what had happened, but T-Dog lingered by the door, waiting for Rick. He nodded at him now as he approached, then frowned at the odd expression on his face. Rick leaned forward to say something into his ear quietly, and T-Dog's eyes widened, but he hurried back to the hospital without asking questions.

"I need two guards," Rick said to the remaining men. "Come with me to the hospital, we need to find Corporal Davis as soon as possible."

"He's gone," one of them spoke up. "The gate watch reported he took a Jeep and passed through. Said he was going back to the camp to get some things he left behind. He'll probably be back by morning."

"Gone?" Rick repeated numbly, and stepped outside as if hoping to catch sight of him.

"Is something wrong, Sir?" the young guard had followed him outside, and was looking at him now with an anxious expression.

"Don't call me sir," said Rick. "And I need to know the moment he returns."

"Yes, sir - I mean...okay. We'll radio for you as soon as he comes back."

But Kyle didn't come back the next morning, or the following one. Rick, Andrea and Dale checked the RV on the second day, and discovered Kyle had been there and taken his weapons, aside from the ones he'd given to Andrea and Rick. He also left several hand grenades and some ammunition, but the rest of his personal possessions were gone and it was clear he hadn't intended to return.

Kyle Davis had vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared, and none of it made any sense to anyone whatsoever.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Police, _King of Pain_


	23. Blood Ties

**A/N:** Ha! Guess I left everyone confused. Don't worry, I always explain things. The Walking Dead is on tonight, not sure if this will be done by then. We'll see. :)

Okay, here comes a big revelation. You'll either love it or hate it, I can't choose for you...

* * *

><p><em>I do not understand<em>  
><em>What it is I've done wrong<em>  
><em>Full of holes, check for pulse<em>  
><em>Blink your eyes<em>  
><em>One for yes, two for no<em>

_I have no idea what I am talking about_  
><em>I am trapped in this body and can't get out<em>

_Make a sound, move back home_  
><em>A pale imitation with the edges sawn off<em>  
><em>I have no idea what you are talking about<em>  
><em>Your mouth moves everywhere<em>

_Has the light gone out for you?_  
><em>Cause the light's gone out for me<em>  
><em>It is the 21st century<em>  
><em>It is the 21st century<em>  
><em>You can fight it like a dog<em>  
><em>It brought me to my knees<em>  
><em>They got scared and they put me in<em>  
><em>All their eyes wrapped around my face<em>  
><em>Although everybody else can see<em>  
><em>I'm alive<em>  
><em>I've seen it coming...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

Alexis struggled to open her eyes, but for some reason each one felt like it had a five-pound weight holding them down. At some point during the last few days her unconscious mind had realized that the scenes she witnessed involving giant pigs with razor-sharp teeth were actually nightmares, and they would go away once she opened her eyes and woke up. But waking up proved to be much more difficult than it had been in the past. She imagined she was drowning, and thrashed violently in the water in a desperate, futile attempt to reach the surface. Voices drifted in and out, some familiar others not.

Once she gave up thrashing about in the imaginary water and let herself drift upwards towards the surface of consciousness, she started to recognize the voices she'd heard around her and tried to focus on the last thing she remembered. _Pig roast. They're cooking that big ugly hog for dinner. No, wait... they cooked it and then it came back to life. Or the corpse did. Daryl freaking out on Sophia. What the hell happened?_

"I'm not hungry anyway," she mumbled, and was mildly surprised when someone answered her.

"You should be. It's been a week. How can anyone dream about not being hungry?"

Alexis finally pushed her eyes open and focused on the blurred figure standing at the foot of her bed. _Wait - bed. Why do I have a bed?_ As his features came into focus she saw light brown skin, scruffy facial hair, dark eyes, and then a familiar smile.

"Guillermo!" she breathed, and he grinned even wider.

"I wondered if you all would make it here," he said. "We went to your camp after we left Atlanta, but everyone was gone."

Alexis pushed herself up on her elbows and scowled as something cold and metallic moved against her skin under her shirt. But more irritating were the IV lines, one in her right arm and the other stuck in a vein in the back of her hand.

"You're a mess. Again," Guillermo chuckled. "Went and caught malaria. Who does that?"

"I guess I do," Alexis heard her own voice come out hoarse and frowned at the painful dryness. Guillermo came around the end of the bed and she blinked at him as she realized he was wearing a custodian's jumpsuit. He leaned the mop he'd been holding against the wall and hurried to pour water into a cup for her.

"Thanks," she said. "What's all this? You're mopping floors here? Where _is_ here?"

"Fort Benning," he said. "They brought you in a few days ago. Your friends too. What's up with that redneck dude and why does the entire staff think you're his wife?"

"Wife? Staff? Wait... slow down. I get to ask questions, not you. What happened in Atlanta? We were at Sunnydale, Guillermo. I saw. You were all gone and the others..."

"Mr. Johnson died," he interrupted her. "You know, the old guy with asthma. We didn't think he'd last long anyway. Then Mrs. Wilkes passed right after him, she had pneumonia for a long time. We put their bodies in the basement where it was cooler, plan was to have a funeral and bury them behind the garden. We didn't know..."

"You didn't know they would come back," Alexis finished for him, and he nodded.

"They came upstairs that evening. Nobody locked the door, nobody thought we had to. They weren't bitten, just died like old people do. They came into the rec room, all the oldies were there playing cards and such like they always do after dinner. It was crazy. They were all yelling and screaming, running around. Two of them had heart attacks and died right there. A couple of the boys went running in, didn't even know they had died and got bit right off. All the noise, gunfire, screaming... it attracted more walkers from outside. We got overrun. they were in the halls, in the garage, even upstairs in the attic. But we fought them back and finally got the last of them cornered in the rec room." He stopped for a moment and gazed out the window, and Alexis watched as a sort of shroud covered his eyes as the memory of that day passed over them.

"I ordered the boys to open fire," he said. "Some of them couldn't, the residents who were bitten were still alive and crying for help. But I knew we couldn't help them. So we killed them all. Shot them through the head. Me, Jorge and Felipe. Miguel was flipping out, we had to sit on him afterwards."

"Miguel," Alexis swallowed the lump in her throat. "Abuela?" Guillermo nodded and turned back to her as if pulling himself away from the memory.

"Felipe locked her in her room when all the yelling started," he said. "She was the only one out of all the oldies who survived, and came with us when we left. Me, Miguel, Felipe, and Abuela. Jorge and a few other boys took off, they didn't want to leave the city. It was hard, _Angelita._ They were family, but they couldn't stand what happened."

"So you came here," Alexis said quietly. "Rick said he told you we might come this way."

"He did," Guillermo nodded. "Said he wasn't sure, though. That's why we went to the camp, but you were already gone. Didn't think I'd see you again. So you gonna answer my question? When did you marry that redneck arrow-shootin' gringo?"

"I didn't marry him," Alexis laughed. "Who would bother with that now?"

"Doc put your name down as _Dixon_ on your chart," he said. "She said your soldier friend Kyle gave it to her like that. He came looking for you in Atlanta. Guess he found you. Who is that dude to you anyway? He acted like he knew you."

"I am so confused," Alexis moaned, and closed her eyes to try to sort it all out. Kyle had given them a false name for her when they brought her here. It made sense, she supposed. If he'd disobeyed a direct order to kill her, it couldn't possibly end well if she turned up alive in an Army hospital and somebody recognized her. Right?

"Where's Daryl? And Rick, the others?"

"Your boy is down the hall getting something to eat. He'll be back. He was sick too but shook it off pretty fast. Rick is here somewhere, he and that old dude with the hat have been helping out fixing stuff and just doing what needs doing. The rest headed to the village a few days ago. I'm heading back there myself later today. I'll tell 'em you're finally awake."

"It's really good to see you, Guillermo," she said with a smile. "But I'm not sure I like you mopping floors again."

"Don't matter," he shrugged. "It's what I did before. I hated it then, but now it almost feels normal. Even when the world ends, floors still get dirty. Everybody pitches in, even Guillermo the Custodian."

"You need a big letter G on your chest," Alexis teased, then jumped slightly as a tall woman with a hard face and greying hair strode into the room and glared at Guillermo.

"What are _you_ doing in here?" she demanded. "You're not supposed to be bothering the patients."

"He's not bothering me," Alexis said immediately, but Guillermo had already retrieved the mop and was heading for the door. He tossed Alexis a quick wink as he left, and she immediately closed her mouth against further protestations.

"They know better than that," the woman was saying in a low, angry tone now. She checked Alexis' IV drip and made a couple marks on the clipboard with angry, jerky movements. "Janitor knows he's just supposed to mop the floors, not mix with the female patients."

"That janitor has a name," Alexis said. "It's Guillermo, and he's my friend."

"Of course he is," the woman replied, sounding as if she hadn't heard a word she said. "I'm Doctor Stevens. You look much better than you did when they brought you in. How are you feeling? Your charming husband is almost fully recovered. I had to threaten to sedate him and force feed him before he'd go eat something."

_Husband._ Alexis almost laughed. The word seemed strange to her, almost ridiculous. Rick was Lori's husband because they were married and signed a document before it all started. Carol had a husband. Kyle was a husband to someone else. They all had defined roles in their relationships. But Daryl was just... _Daryl_. She'd never thought a _title_ would be applied to him, it just wasn't necessary. She started to correct the doctor, then decided it didn't matter. Kyle clearly thought it was important that she be someone else while she was here, so there wasn't any harm in playing along.

"I suppose he's been difficult," she said, and the doctor snorted.

"That's a gentle way of putting it. I'm guessing you two didn't meet under normal circumstances. Doesn't seem your type, really."

"There are no normal circumstances," Alexis said, trying not to allow an edge into her voice. "And I don't think you have the slightest idea what my _type_ might be."

"It's none of my business," Doctor Stevens said immediately, her tone changing to something less harsh. "And I'm not one to talk, I scare men away the moment I open my mouth." She turned and made eye contact with her for the first time, and Alexis found herself looking at stony gray-blue eyes without a hint of warmth. _I just bet you do_.

"Anyway, you're doing much better. I'm willing to release you to your friends today as long as you eat something and keep it down. Think you can do that?"

"Oh, yes," Alexis said as her stomach twisted in hunger. "Please."

"I'll have your janitor friend bring something for you," she was already up and halfway to the door as she spoke, and already gone before Alexis could remind her that the janitor had a name.

"Bitch," she mumbled, not particularly caring if she heard. Still feeling oddly detached and confused, she didn't think it was wise trying to stand up just yet. She looked around the room, seeing nothing more interesting than a very ugly overstuffed easy chair in the corner and shifted until she was sitting more comfortably. As she moved the metallic chain around her neck slid and she felt something metal moving against her skin. Not recalling a time when she ever wore such a heavy necklace, she fished it out from under her shirt and frowned in confusion at what appeared to be a pair of military-issue dog tags. She turned them sideways and stared in total confusion at the name and date of birth on the tags. She was still staring at them when Daryl walked in, carrying a cup of something hot.

"Hey," he said simply. She looked up at his very uncharacteristic smile and gave him one in return, then let the tags drop down onto her shirt as he came over and set the bowl and cup down.

"What's that?" he asked. "Never seen you wear those before."

"I'm not sure," she said and closed her eyes for a moment when he sat down on the edge of the bed and touched the back of her head, pressed his forehead against hers for a moment. When he pulled back and kissed her forehead lightly, her eyes flew open as if suddenly remembering something.

"Wow," he said. "What's the matter? You all right?"

"Where's Kyle?" she said. "He came with us, right? I need to talk to him."

"Yeah," said Daryl, glancing back at the door to make sure nobody was listening. "Rick wants to talk to him, too. And so do I. If he comes back, you can have a turn."

"Comes back? He's gone?"

"Like the wind," Daryl shook his head and handed her the cup, which turned out to be filled with some sort of tea that smelled of honey and grass. "Took a Jeep and split, never said a word to anyone."

* * *

><p><strong>One week earlier<strong>

Kyle Davis arrived at Hangar 7 just as the sun was starting to set low in the sky. It hadn't taken much investigating to figure out that security around here was a joke. Walkers roamed freely on the base, kept in check with chain-link fences and simple barriers. Sometimes the men would use them for target practice, something Kyle found to be unbelievably stupid and pointless. If a herd came through here, drawn by the noise, this place wouldn't stand a chance.

But this place was just a waystation, a stopping point before moving on. As long as Lex and the others didn't linger too long, there wouldn't be a problem. Besides, the lack of security and inexperienced guards would work to his advantage right this moment. Kyle spotted movement off to the side and noticed several walkers milling around a narrow gap in the fence. They seemed aware that there was an opening, but it was too small and they didn't have the brain power to figure out how to make it wider. An idea occurred to him then, and Kyle looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then slipped quietly over to the fence and pulled on one side, widening the gap enough for one at a time to get through. The first one pushed through immediately and grabbed at him with a snarl, but Kyle leaped clear and ran straight for the hangar, pausing at the doorway to make sure the walkers had seen where he was going and would follow. Then he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

"It's about fucking time," a voice greeted him, and he looked around at the huge, cavernous inside for a moment before spotting the man - _target_ - standing next to a workstation laden heavily with electronic equipment. He was older, with gray hair showing white at the temples. Dressed in the same guard fatigues as the rest of them, he looked like he could have been anyone. But he wasn't just anyone, and Kyle's worst fears were confirmed as he stood there looking at him.

"Brian," said Kyle. "Seriously? I almost shit myself when that dumb bastard said his CO's name is _Brian_. I knew it had to be you. A four-star general letting his own men call him _Brian._ I never thought I'd see the day."

"My name_ is_ Brian," the other man grinned and put out a hand for Kyle to shake, which he did heartily. "You know that. And I almost shit _myself_ when I got your signal. I was sure you were dead by now."

"I was kind of hoping _you_ were," Kyle accepted the bottle of whiskey that was passed to him and took a long pull. "No offense."

"None taken," the General shrugged. "Bad times for us all. Can't blame you for being raw about how things went down."

"Raw," Kyle snorted. "You assholes put me on a mission to kill an innocent woman."

"Nobody's innocent, remember? You said it yourself once. So stop whining and sit down. Have a drink." Kyle sat in one of the two chairs and took another drink from the bottle, glancing back towards the door he'd come through.

"Maybe she didn't do anything _herself_, but for all we knew she was in possession of some very sensitive material. Stuff that could cause us a lot of trouble. Since when do you need explanations? You never gave a damn before, a target was a target. Lots of people dead and dying out there. One more isn't going to make a difference."

"Maybe not," Kyle growled. "Kind of like how my wife and kid didn't make a difference, right? You lied to me about them, too. Said they were still alive, tried to lie to me to keep me going." Brian shifted uncomfortably in his chair and took the bottle back from him.

"I told you what you needed to hear," he said. "I didn't know they were already dead. You might have mentioned it, you know."

"Mentioned what?" Kyle snapped. "That I knew you were lying because it was _me_ who put them both down for good? I shot my _wife_ through the head, you sonofabitch. Then my son. I buried them in our backyard, right under the fucking rosebushes that she wasted hours of her life working on. Then I received a message with what you promised would be the last assignment. Why me? There had to be other operatives out there. Why did you choose _me_ to kill _her?_"

"I needed it done fast," he snarled back. "Killing her probably wouldn't have accomplished a damn thing. But we recovered Peter Quinn's body and he didn't have the camera or any recordings on him, so she _must_ have taken them."

"Who gives a shit?" Kyle shouted. "The world ended! Who the fuck cares if she had evidence of anything? She doesn't even know anything!"

"_I_ give a shit!" Both men were up now, standing toe to toe and glaring. "And the world hasn't _ended_, it's just hit a brick wall. We can get past it, rebuild and start over. But that won't happen if people _ever_ find out how all this started. If there's even the slightest chance that anyone knows anything, it's a risk. And I can't allow risks anymore, not even one! And you're out of line, soldier! Don't you forget who you're talking to!"

"You did take a risk," Kyle said. "You chose _me_ to take her out. That was your first mistake."

"Why the hell do you even care?" Brian barked. "What's up your ass about this woman? You can't honestly believe that her life is so much more important than anyone else's. If you did you wouldn't have brought her _here_ of all places. Yes, I've seen her. I know it's her so don't even try to look surprised. Did you think giving her a false name would be enough to hide her?"

"I didn't have a choice," Kyle turned away from him slightly as something bumped against the door. They both looked at it for a moment, but the noise didn't repeat itself right away. "She was sick. I signaled for help because she was going to die without it."

"That's fine," Brian turned his back on him. "You made it easier to solve that problem once and for all. She's going to die tonight, soldier. Peacefully and in her sleep."

"No," said Kyle. "She's not." He stepped up quickly and quietly behind him and his hands moved so fast anyone watching would not have registered what was happening. Blood sprayed outward in a violent, heavy arc as he slid his blade into the older man's throat and pulled it hard to the side. Kyle stepped back and let the man fall onto his back, grasping futilely at his ruined neck and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Turning your back on me was your second mistake." Kyle whispered as he gurgled and choked against the blood pooling into his mouth and lungs. He didn't know if he could hear him over the ghastly choking sounds, and the color had already rapidly drained from his face as he bled out right in front of him, but the words needed to be said regardless. He knelt down over him and grabbed hold of the lapels of his shirt, pulling him up so they were face to face again.

"I guess that's the problem with being invisible, being made to not exist. You never saw my file because you didn't have the clearance to look at it. Four stars means you can order me around, but you don't get to know _who_ I am. Very inconvenient for you, as it turns out. You only know my name because I _chose_ to tell it to you. But didn't it ever occur to you to wonder _why_ she and I both have the same last name?"

_Maybe it's a common enough name, Reilly... but how likely is it that two people can have the same last name, the same date of birth and both be born in the same little shit town in Alabama without it becoming more than just a coincidence? And how likely would it be that those same two kids would lose their parents in a car accident on the same day and get whisked off to live with strangers? How is that possible? It's not. Coincidences are accidents with similarities. Kyle and Alexis Reilly were not accidents... _

_...Or maybe those are the details that don't matter when you're playing God, choosing who gets to live or die. Maybe the moment a man puts a bullet through the heads of his wife and son, all bets are off. Maybe that man has been lying to everyone for so long, about who he is and what he does for a living that it hits him like a pile of bricks while he's shoveling dirt onto the bodies of his family - nobody knows who he really is. Nobody. So then I had a file with all I needed to know to kill her, but I was the only one to really look at it and connect the dots. But you were so focused on keeping the truth from escaping you didn't notice the smaller details, the ones that might have made you choose someone else for this last mission. Someone who wouldn't look at her face and see the last living person that meant something to him...and maybe later, after he'd come clean and been truthful with her about what he did for a living, she wouldn't think he was some kind of monster..._

"She's my _sister_, you heartless fuck," Kyle said out loud, and shook him to make sure he'd heard. The hangar door buckled inward and suddenly collapsed under the weight of the two walkers pressing against it. Kyle looked up as four poured through the doorway, then five and then six.

"Don't die yet," he said to Brian as he backed away from the advancing crowd. "This is the best part."

He turned and ran towards the workstation, leaping up onto it and grabbing onto an overhead beam to lift himself up out of reach. The walkers barely noticed him, focusing on the maddening smell of fresh warm blood right before them. Kyle wished for a brief moment that he hadn't cut his throat, it might have been satisfying to hear the man scream when the walkers started to devour him alive. It was no less than he deserved, after all. Kyle stayed where he was until the walkers had torn so much flesh from him that the throat wound would be hidden, then hopped back down onto the workstation and started shooting them, one at a time.

When the guards arrived with Rick, Glenn and T-Dog right behind them nobody asked any serious questions, and nobody noticed when he slipped away. He went to the RV first and collected his gear, then made one final clumsy search of Alexis' pack. Just to be sure. There was no video, he was sure of it. But hopefully now there was nobody who gave a damn anymore. Either way, he knew he would always be a danger to her, at least until whatever remnants of government that still existed were swept away.

Maybe then he would come back and explain it all to her. Or maybe once she took a good look at those tags, he wouldn't have to explain it to her.

Maybe.

* * *

><p>By the time Alexis had consumed enough food for two people, drank three cups of tea and ventured to take a shower, it was mid afternoon and Guillermo had already left to return to the village with Felipa and Dale. Rick and Daryl stayed behind to wait until the doctor decided she was healthy enough to leave. After she showered and changed into clothes recently laundered in an actual washing machine, the three of them gathered around a table in the cafeteria. Naomi hovered close by until Rick asked her as nicely as he could to give them some privacy, then she removed herself from the room with a cautious smile.<p>

"Tell him," Daryl said to Alexis as soon as the three of them were alone.

"Tell me what?" Rick looked back and forth at them both, then Alexis pulled Kyle's dog tags out from under her shirt and pulled the chain off over her head. She slid them across the table and he picked them up, then looked at her questioningly.

"Kyle's name isn't Davis," she said, and Rick picked up on the anger just below the surface. "It's Reilly. Kyle Jacob Reilly, date of birth October 23, 1978."

"Reilly," Rick repeated. "Same as yours. I don't understand."

"_My_ birthday is October 23, 1975," she replied. "We have the same name and date of birth, Rick. That can't be a coincidence."

Rick studied the tags with a heavy frown, then passed them back to her and sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"He killed that man in the hangar," he said. "Cut his throat from ear to ear. At the time it made no sense. But now I wonder..."

"Explain it to me," Alexis said. "Because I'm not getting it."

"I'm not either," Rick said. "But I think he's been protecting you all this time."

"Protecting me from what? As I recall he was the one sent to kill me. Over some goddamned video I don't even have."

"Well," said Daryl, and cleared his throat. "That ain't exactly right. You had Peter's pack with you when we left Harmony, remember?"

"Yeah," she said. "So?"

"I found a video camera in it back at the Atlanta camp," Daryl seemed a little uncomfortable admitting he'd gone through her things when he'd thought she was dead, but Alexis only blinked at him.

"Peter's camera," she said. "What was on it?"

"No idea," he said. "I found a bullet lodged in it, couldn't play it back. Musta got hit back in the police station when they fired on us. It's in the RV somewhere, Dale said he'd keep it hidden."

Alexis looked at him blankly, then at Rick. Then she put the chain back around her neck and tucked it all out of sight. Daryl and Rick were both watching her carefully, as if expecting further reaction.

"Tell me about this village," she said. "I assume at least one of you has seen it."

* * *

><p>The village sat on 20 acres of land once owned by a wealthy family and later donated to a local church and developed into a farming township. In the 60's it gained notoriety as a hippie commune and if the rumors were true, a nudist colony. But by the late 70's it was entirely populated by a religious group who made dramatic gestures to renounce the modern world and live off the land alone. No power lines ran into the village, no cable TV or internet, and the area was literally a dead zone for cell phone signals. Despite the rumors of a secretive, bizarre cult living in the woods, the village had thrived as a simple farming community, and its people lived in peace, selling their produce and stick to neighboring towns and bothering nobody. Over time, as money came into the town and the religious influence eased its grip enough to allow them to treat themselves to electricity, they erected solar panels to supplement the meager supply given by the three windmills strategically placed around the area.<p>

After the outbreak, many had fled to the cities, perhaps believing that there truly were government safety zones or perhaps simply to escape what they did not understand. The village was overrun several times during the early days, but the people who stayed behind learned to retreat to the cellars and attics and stay quiet until danger passed. Within a month a loose sort of organization formed, and they sent several scouts to Fort Benning to see what was there. They brought Doctor Stevens and three National Guard soldiers back with them, and soon afterwards a plan was in place. A rough wall was built around the village. Made of lumber materials from the town's simple but efficient sawmill, they built an ugly if not functional fence all the way around. It would keep out the dead well enough, but still the occasional roaming walker would make its way inside.

Despite the danger outside the walls, the few people left inside continued life where it had left off. They were self-sufficient, knowledgeable about farming and living off the land, and more than a little paranoid about strangers bearing diseases inside. The three elected leaders, all of them elders of the town's founding church, abhorred the thought of turning other survivors away, but the fear of infection was one that could not be mollified. They worked with Doctor Stevens to get some sort of screening process in place, and her quarantine process seemed to work. For now. The abandoned military base provided them with equipment, weapons, and a gasoline source that seemed to be plentiful enough to last so long as they didn't travel far in any gas-powered vehicles. At first glance, their tenacity and unwillingness to give up was admirable, although Rick had to admit it looked more like pure stubbornness when you came right down to it. Nothing wrong with that.

When Alexis was finally ready to leave the hospital, Doctor Stevens handed Daryl what she called a "voucher" and disappeared down the hall. Daryl looked at the paper in confusion, not understanding the printed street address and the doctor's scribbled note at the bottom.

"Don't laugh," said Rick. "She just gave you a pass to get into the village. I got one too. That address is the house they're giving you. We're neighbors."

"House," Daryl looked at him blankly. "Seriously?"

"They're assigning us living quarters?" Alexis repeated. "Doesn't that seem a little weird to you, Rick?"

"Yeah," he said. "The town is really small, but so is the population. We're taking a wait and see approach."

"I'm headin' back to the camp soon," said Daryl. "Bike's still there, and I reckon others left stuff behind."

"We can do that," Rick nodded. "Maybe Kyle went there. I still would like a word or two with him."

Alexis said nothing, just walked ahead of them both faster than her tired body wanted to go. The village residents who worked at the base shuttled back and forth every other day in a wide flatbed truck. It reminded Alexis of the truckloads of immigrant workers she would see heading to the fruit orchards when she visited California once. Daily labor. Cheap and under the table. It was a temporary system, when the gasoline ran out so would their ability to travel. She wondered what they would do then. Lock the doors and stop letting anyone in? She was still floored by Kyle's weird behavior and sudden departure, even more confused by the cryptic clues hanging around her neck on a chain.

Maybe if they could get that video camera fixed somehow, or at least find a way to get the data off it, there might be some answers there. Or maybe he did go to the camp, and when they went to pick up Daryl's bike they could confront him for an explanation.

Maybe.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Radiohead, _Bodysnatchers_


	24. Over the River and Through the Woods

**A/N** Hi there! Hope everyone had a great Halloween & made it through with no zombie casualties! First off - sorry for the delay, again. Got the next few chapters planned out so all I need now is the time to get them out of my head.

First things first... all you new readers who have been eating up _Road to Nowhere_ like hungry little monsters... you literally make my day every morning. I'm amazed that new people are still finding that thing! Thank you** duffie83**, **Acoustix**, **phantomphan2000, Quicksilvermad**,** Persion**!

More thanks to **SaraLostInes**, **SirenaErmosa**, **xXBXx**, **Azalia Fox Knightling**, **Tenderloin Baby**, **Not-the-Norm**, **Nelle07**, **AvidReaderWolf**, , **Bambina76**, **JoanieNobody**, and **10thazure**.

Well, let's get to it shall we? Let the Village saga begin. Not a whole lot of action here, but I think you all know by now that I won't skimp on it when the time comes.

* * *

><p><em>They've been spending most their lives<em>  
><em>Living in a pastime paradise<em>  
><em>They've been spending most their lives<em>  
><em>Living in a pastime paradise<em>  
><em>They've been wasting most their lives<em>  
><em>Glorifying days long gone behind<em>  
><em>They've been wasting most their days<em>  
><em>In remembrance of ignorance oldest praise<em>  
><em>Tell me who of them will come to be<em>  
><em>How many of them are you and me<em>

_Dissipation, race relations_  
><em>Consolation, segregation<em>  
><em>Dispensation, isolation<em>  
><em>Exploitation, mutilation<em>  
><em>Mutations, miscreation<em>  
><em>Confirmation to the evils of the world<em>

_They've been spending most their lives_  
><em>Living in a future paradise<em>  
><em>They've been spending most their lives<em>  
><em>Living in a future paradise<em>  
><em>They've been looking in their minds<em>  
><em>For the day that sorrow's gone from time<em>  
><em>They keep telling of the day<em>  
><em>When the Savior of love will come to stay<em>  
><em>Tell me who of them will come to be<em>  
><em>How many of them are you and me<em>

_Proclamation of Race Relations_  
><em>Consolation, integration<em>  
><em>Verification of Revelations<em>  
><em>Acclamation, world salvation<em>  
><em>Vibrations, simulation<em>  
><em>Confirmation to the peace of the world<em>

_Let's start living our lives_  
><em>Living for the future paradise<em>  
><em>Praise to our lives<em>  
><em>Living for the future paradise<em>  
><em>Shame to anyones lives<em>  
><em>Living in a pastime paradise...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Over the River and Through the Woods<strong>

Alexis straightened up and leaned back slightly until the cramp in her lower back released itself with a small _pop_ and looked across the width of the garden before her. The word _village_ had planted visions of a picturesque New England town with charming but small cape-style houses, manicured lawns and a quaint, peaceful ambiance. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. In reality it was a small farming community with one paved road running through the center of town and unpaved bumpy dirt side roads branching off in all directions. The houses were small and every two shared a sizeable vegetable garden which every resident was expected to work together. _Expected_. Alexis didn't particularly mind the thought of working a garden, but if her houseplants back in Boston were any indication of her gardening skills, this garden was doomed. She also fought the urge to resist being told to do it, as was her nature, but it didn't take much brain power to see that this little place was thriving because everyone worked _together_, so she was determined to withhold judgement for now.

At the moment, only a very small portion of the town was fully populated, and the majority of them had come from outside. Only four were left of the town's original inhabitants - original meaning the last to stay behind after all others had fled or died from the virus. During the ride from Benning, Rick had explained that the population was standing firm at 32, but he suspected there were more living across the river that had not yet been counted. Specifically, Guillermo had established his small crew on the other side of the narrow waterway. He had picked up several more people, including two small children along the way after finding them hiding in an overturned truck filled with Twinkies and other sugary wonders, a boy and a girl whose names Rick hadn't learned yet.

The vehicles were all parked in a wide dirt lot just inside the gate, aside from those needed for general farming needs. Alexis thought it was odd considering most of the small houses had driveways or at least room for parking, but she supposed that the dwindling gas supply would make walking the main mode of transportation in the future. The house she and Daryl had been assigned to was surprisingly large, old fashioned with wood paneling everywhere, three sparsely-furnished bedrooms with big windows, and a bathroom without running water. Alexis took one look at the big old-fashioned claw-foot tub and decided she would find a way to fill it with hot water at least once in awhile. The house was airy, light and... huge. Daryl had stood in the middle of the living room, frowning in confusion at his surroundings before going back outside to retrieve their few belongings. The place seemed to overwhelm him, although he made an obvious effort for the next couple of days. Alexis was inclined to agree. But on the third night they were still sleeping on the living room floor in front of the fireplace, the need to be close to the ground with easy access to all exits overcoming the wish for the comfort of a real bed.

On the fourth day Daryl, Rick, Andrea and Dale organized a trip back to the lakeside camp to collect what had been left behind during their unplanned exodus. They left in the morning while Alexis was still sleeping, something she suspected was Daryl's idea since they had already argued about whether she should go twice already. But considering she still couldn't get up until late morning and was close to exhaustion almost before the sun was down again, it was an easy battle for him to win. She knew the effects of malaria would linger for awhile, as much as she hated to admit it. Bored with her surroundings already, she vowed to go and find Guillermo and the boys the next day.

So here she was, standing in the middle of a vegetable garden which was sparse even for a mild Georgia winter, wondering how long they would be gone and hoping they might drag Kyle back with them, or at least find some evidence of where he might have gone. _Kyle_. The name was one that hadn't been spoken since his abrupt and rather violent departure. Daryl and Rick had kept the events confidential at her request, and she debated daily if she should even care what happened to him.

"You all right over there?" Alexis looked up and shaded her eyes with one hand as Lori came out of the back door of the new Grimes household.

"You look lost, and the garden isn't that big," Lori said lightly as she approached.

"It's pathetic," Alexis sighed. "Are these people serious? I couldn't even grow grass back home. Now they want me to help feed the town?"

"Maybe it's in lieu of rent," Lori shrugged. "We'll all work it. Carol and Sophie are going to be staying with us. It's not like we don't have the room."

"Yeah," Alexis looked up at the house behind Lori, which was bigger than the one she shared with Daryl. "It feels really weird living in a big house. I'm not complaining. It's just ... almost too much. There's only two of us in here."

"Dale and Andrea have a smaller place up the road a bit," said Lori. "I'm not sure about Glenn and T-Dog. Why don't you see if one or both of them want one of your rooms?"

"T-Dog went to see the boys and Abuela," said Alexis. "He said he might stay with them. I really should go see them, I just get so tired I don't think I can walk that far yet."

"Send Glenn up to get them," Lori bent down and tugged at several weeds that were growing between the rows. "Maybe they'll come see you. He and Carol are going to see what's at the town square for food. Come over tonight, we'll feed everyone."

"Sure," Alexis brushed dirt off her hands and looked up at the sky with a sigh. She'd lost track of the days when she was feverish, and still felt somewhat displaced after years of living in a place where winter meant snow, ice and extreme cold. The New Year had passed without much notice and Spring was sneaking up quietly, but it didn't feel like any significant change had taken place between seasons.

An hour later, Lori and Alexis had given up on the garden and were sitting on the front porch swing, watching the occasional neighbor walk by and stare at them curiously.

"They're wondering why we aren't breaking our backs in the fields," Alexis muttered.

"Who cares," Lori smiled and waved at them. "I'm pregnant, you're recovering from a severe illness. When our men get home, _they_ can go break their backs in the fields."

"Our men," Alexis said. "My god, Lori... if we stay here I'll turn into a _housewife_."

"You make it sound like a death sentence," Lori smiled. "I wouldn't worry. Daryl's a long way off from domestication. Pretty sure he likes you the way you are."

"That girl who helped me plot the garden... Hannah? She said her mother washes her father's feet every night after he has dinner. His _feet_ Lori. Why?"

"I have no idea," Lori admitted. "It sounds far too servile for me. To each their own, I suppose." Alexis found herself noticing that Lori's pregnancy was progressing from something everyone knew to something everyone saw. The slight swelling around her abdomen had already begun to take on a distinct shape, making Alexis wonder if she wasn't further along than she'd thought.

"I told him," Lori said quietly, almost as if she could read her thoughts. "I told him about Shane. Sort of. I said it was just the one time."

"Lori," Alexis frowned and looked at the porch floor, trying to choose her next words carefully.

"I know," Lori said quickly. "It's a lie. But he was so crushed about that one time... I just couldn't go any further."

"That baby is Shane's," Alexis said quietly. "And you know it. But... please don't tell Rick. He's been to Hell and back already. Here and now, it doesn't matter anyway... does it?"

Lori didn't answer, just sat with one hand on her belly, looking out across the road to the wheat field beyond. Glenn and Carol returned shortly after with an impressive supply of fresh vegetables, both root and greens, some fruit, two chickens freshly killed but not plucked and a few jars of preserved fruit. Hannah was with them, and although she seemed happy at Glenn's invitation to join them for dinner, she declined politely and hurried home.

"Her daddy's the town preacher," Glenn said when Alexis asked him about Hannah during dinner. "She's a nice kid, but a little strange. I don't think she's ever been anywhere else but here."

"She's sixteen," Carol said. "She and her parents are the only ones who lived here before all this. I stopped by the church yesterday to meet them. Harry and Beth. They had a son, from what I understand. I suppose he didn't make it. They seem like nice people. "

"They usually do," Alexis mumbled around a mouthful of chicken. Carol glanced at her with a slight frown, confused by her tone. Alexis swallowed and shook her head.

"Sorry," she said. "I was raised by religious nuts. My filters don't work well on that subject."

"I can imagine," Carol smiled. "My uncle was a preacher. I've met a few nuts in my time as well. These folks seem... old-fashioned. Back to basics, if you know what I mean."

"Basics," Lori looked around the table at the home-grown food that had supplied their feast. "I suppose now they feel like the rest of the world has finally caught up with them."

"Maybe," said Carol. "In any case, they have non-denominational services every Sunday. Sophie and I are going tomorrow, if any of you want to join us."

"Sure," Lori smiled at Carl when he rolled his eyes. "Oh stop. You never minded so much before."

"That was before," Carl scowled, then looked at Alexis hopefully. "Can't I stay here? I'll help Lex in the garden."

"How very nice of you to offer," Lori laughed.

"I was going to visit Abuela and the boys," Alexis said. "But he can certainly come with me. How do these people know it's Sunday, anyway? I'm not even sure what month it is anymore."

"I don't want to go to church, Mom," Carl's expression was serious, and Lori blinked as she realized it held none of the expected childish petulance. His tone had no trace of whining, he was simply stating his preference.

"All right," she said. "But only if Glenn goes with you too. Safety in numbers, you know."

Glenn shrugged and nodded at Carl, and the boy grinned at him widely.

"Can I go too?" Sophie asked hopefully, but Carol shook her head.

"Next time," she said. "Church tomorrow. It will be fun, there are a few other children there."

"Yeah," Sophie sounded morose, but smiled when Alexis gave her a wink across the table.

"Listen!" Carl said suddenly, and sat up a little straighter. Everyone paused, then Glenn laughed and shook his head as the distinct sound of motorcycle loud pipes cut through the peaceful evening air. Alexis got up and moved to the front windows to look outside.

"They're back," Lori said. "And Daryl's going to piss off the whole town if he doesn't park that thing near the gate."

"He didn't," Alexis said from the window. "Parked it right in our driveway."

* * *

><p>Daryl dropped the two bags filled with arrows, ammunition, the rest of his own hunting gear and a few things Alexis had left behind on the floor next to the fireplace, then looked up as the back door slammed shut and Alexis came into the room.<p>

"Hey, good-lookin. How's the - ouch!" He recoiled in surprise as she punched him hard in the shoulder.

"That's for sneaking off while I was asleep," she explained, then caught hold of his shirt and pulled him close so she could kiss him.

"What was that for?" he asked, trying to catch hold of her as she slipped away again and bent down to open one of the bags he'd brought in.

"Coming back in one piece," she said. "Anything interesting back at the lake?"

"If you mean Kyle, no. Didn't see him. But I found this. Think he might have left it for you."

Alexis stood up and looked at him, then down at the folded piece of paper in his hand. Daryl said nothing, just held it out to her, watching her face.

"Did you read it?" she asked, and he nodded as she took it from him and unfolded it slowly. The paper was old, and had a thick texture to it. It was heavily creased as if it had been folded and put away for years, and once she had it open Alexis understood why. She sat down in the room's single chair to study it, and Daryl knelt in front of the fireplace to get a fire going.

"Record of live birth," she read aloud. "Male. Kyle Jacob Reilly. Father, Jacob Reilly. Mother, Lynn-Sue. Birthplace, Benton, Alabama." She stopped there and folded the paper abruptly, resisting the urge to throw it into the fireplace as Daryl struck a match.

"Birth certificate," Daryl commented.

"Yes," she said.

"Identical to yours?" he turned his head to look at her, and she returned his look steadily.

"Yes."

"So that means what. You're twins?"

"Twins," she said. "I have a twin brother."

"Wanna get drunk?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p>As a general rule, Daryl felt that it should be legal to shoot people who knocked on doors too early on Sunday mornings. It didn't matter one bit that he wouldn't have known it was Sunday if Lex hadn't said so the night before. All that mattered was that it was too early, and the knocking on the front door was pounding straight into his head with all the force of a jackhammer. Armed guards patrolled the streets around the clock, but there was no reason any of them would be knocking on doors, unless the house was on fire.<p>

"Somebody better be dying," he heard Alexis groan.

"That would be me," he mumbled, and cursed the alcohol that still rang in his ears from the night before. As usual, he'd drunk more than she did, and even though his tolerance was much higher than hers, it didn't mean the morning after wasn't going to be harsh.

He rolled over and fumbled for clothing, and Lex gathered up all the blankets around herself as he stood up and stumbled towards the front door, still bucking his belt. She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head as he jerked the front door open and glared out into the painfully blinding sunlight. Immediately squeezing his eyes shut and turning his face away from the brightness, it was a moment before he realized he was standing shirtless and barefoot with pants unbuckled and, quite frankly, hanging open a little more than they should be. It was another moment before he realized he was standing face to face with sixteen-year-old Hannah, the town preacher's daughter, dressed in a homemade cornflower-blue dress with her wheat-colored hair pulled back in a matching bow.

Daryl blinked at her, confused for a moment into thinking a life-sized child's doll was standing on the porch, until her eyes blinked back at him.

"Shit," he muttered, and fumbled to close his belt as she stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, then went beet red and turned her face away.

"I - I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't know you'd still be, um... sleeping." She looked past him into the living room and turned even more red at the sight of Alexis' bare shoulder showing from under the blankets. At the sound of her voice, Alexis turned and squinted at her, then sat up, holding blankets to her chest.

"I just came to... Daddy wanted me to invite you and your wife to church. He didn't know if you were told about the services," Hannah was talking so fast it took both Daryl and Alexis a few seconds to register what she'd said. Daryl blinked, then turned towards Alexis.

"We're invited to church, _Punkin_," he said with more than a little bit of teasing sarcasm. Hannah was staring at him more directly now that he'd buckled his pants, and her color was somewhat more normal now, but Alexis didn't miss the telltale flush of her cheeks as her eyes made a quick pass over Daryl's very-exposed skin.

"You go ahead if you want," Alexis did her best to sound even-toned, but her amusement at the poor girl's reaction was rising quickly. "I'm in no shape to face people now."

"Right. Uh... thanks, kid. We ain't exactly church-goers," the chilly morning air made Daryl want to slam the door and dive back under blankets, but the girl on the front porch had suddenly turned into a big pile of radiant smiles.

"That's okay," Hannah said quickly, and flashed Alexis a bright smile. "We have evening prayers right before Sunday Dinner. You are coming to that, right? It's in the square at sunset. Everybody's welcome! Please say you'll come!"

"Sure we will, kid," Daryl yawned and started to close the door.

"Hannah," she said. "My name's Hannah, Mr. Dixon."

"Right. Daryl, and that's Alexis," he was pushing the door closed as he spoke, but she managed to get one more wave and smile off before it closed. Alexis waved back with as sweet a smile as she could muster, then flopped back onto her pillow with a sigh.

"I'm not going to evening prayers," she grumped as Daryl came back and crawled under the blankets again.

"Me either," he said, and wrapped cold arms and around her, making her gasp and try to wiggle away.

"You asshole," she shouted, then flinched as the hangover headache reminded her that she wasn't supposed to do that. "Next time put your damned shirt on. You gave that girl one hell of an eyeful."

"Ain't my fault she knocked too damned early," Daryl mumbled in her ear, making her shiver. She gasped and jumped again as his still-cold hands started roaming over her skin.

"Stop complainin' and warm me up," he grumbled. "Or else."

"Or else what?" she laughed scornfully, but turned to face him anyway.

"I'll tie you up and drag you to church," he replied, nuzzling the side of her neck and running his hands down to the small of her back.

"You can tie me up," she smiled. "But I guarantee you won't be thinking about church when you do it."

* * *

><p>Just before the sun reached the noon point in the sky, Alexis crossed the small footbridge at the narrowest point in the river with Glenn and Carl, on the way to visit Abuela and the others who had made it here from Atlanta. During their walk through town Alexis had kept quiet and observed everything with as sharp an eye as she could.<p>

_Keep yer eyes open,_ Daryl had said. _And for chrissake don't go unarmed._ Neither he nor Rick were happy that the town had effectively disarmed them all upon arrival, and between the two of them had taken great pains to smuggle in three handguns for each of them to carry. The guards had allowed Daryl to bring his crossbow, but guns were prohibited without exception. The rationale was that noise attracted walkers, and although it made some sense that wasn't good enough for Daryl. Alexis tucked the 9 millimeter Glock that Rick had given her months ago into the waistband of her cutoff pants and grabbed one of Daryl's shirts to wear untucked and hide it from view. The machete she carried in her hand as always, although the sight of an armed woman seemed to cause a bit of a disturbance when they walked past the church.

It stood in the center of the town square, a modest white building that didn't even remotely resemble a church on the outside, having no steeple or church bell. The morning services appeared to have just ended, and the attendees were standing on the steps or on the grass outside chatting amiably. They stopped almost as one as the group passed, and Alexis felt her friendly smile fade quickly as the neutral stares fixed on them all. Lori had gone with Carol and Sophia, but they were nowhere to be seen. Alexis figured they had lingered inside to meet the church family.

"Why are they staring at us?" Carl asked in a loud whisper.

"I don't know," Glenn whispered back, just as loud. "Maybe Lex is scaring them."

"Me?" Alexis looked back at them both in surprise. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Glenn grinned. "I'm thinking it's the combat boots, the big knife and your clothes with the arms and legs cut off."

Alexis laughed as she looked down at herself and considered the churchgoer's point of view. She'd lost track of time by now, and couldn't remember how long it had been since she last gave a damn about hairspray, makeup or worried about things getting a run in her stockings or smudging mascara. Her nails were short to the point of being almost non-existent and always seemed to have dirt under them, and her skin had taken on a slightly darker hue under the Georgia sun. She had various scars here and there, and always a fresh bruise on a knee or elbow.

Her pants were hacked off just below the knee and held up by a belt pulled tight around her waist. She'd had to punch two more holes in it to make up for the weight loss. The shirt was Daryl's, recently washed but you couldn't tell by looking. It might have been blue once, and it probably had sleeves in it's newer days. It was missing two buttons at the top, causing a heft amount of skin to show, but she wasn't so heavily endowed that cleavage was an issue, so she didn't think twice about it. The boots were the only shoes she owned, and if the onlooker could see her mismatched socks underneath, her fashion statement would be complete.

She'd chopped a couple inches off her hair not long ago after a pine cone filled with sticky sap had entangled itself in her hair while out hunting with Daryl. It hung just about to her shoulders now, still dark but peppered with lighter strands throughout, also a result of sun exposure. As she returned the blatantly open stares of the townspeople, she found herself wondering if she ought to look in the mirror sometime. She also found herself noticing that all the women were almost literally covered from the neck down. Not swathed in layers or heavy clothing, but shirts buttoned or coming up to the neck, long sleeves and full pants or long skirts. No T-shirts, no shorts...

"Weird," she said out loud. "No wonder I stick out like a sore thumb." She wondered how Lori had fared at church. She hadn't seen her wear anything more than skimpy tops since they'd gotten out of the colder areas.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Glenn. "They aren't very friendly."

"They don't trust us," Alexis said. "Why should they? We all know what kind of people are out there..."

"The wall doesn't go all the way around," said Carl. "How will they keep the walkers out?"

"It's isolated here," said Glenn. "One of the guards... John... he said they had one in town a couple weeks ago. Usually they wander around in the woods, though. They don't come in very often."

"More weird," said Alexis. "Since when do walkers prefer woods to places with people?"

Two guards were lounging against a jeep on the other side of the bridge, rifles propped against a wheel, sharing a cigarette and watching them curiously. They nodded at them as they passed, and Alexis felt the back of her neck tingle slightly as if they were staring. Carl jumped the last couple of feet from the bridge to the ground and walked on ahead.

"Don't go too far," Alexis kept her eye on the patch of trees to the left, still feeling the eyes of the townspeople on her back as they moved away from them.

_Across the River_ almost seemed to be the name of another town. But almost immediately they saw the differences. Here there were no houses, only a wide stretch of field and narrow dirt paths leading through a haphazard arrangement of tents and hand-built shacks in varying sizes. A huge barn with a building that may have once been used for office and storage occupied the very center of the area, and less than a hundred yards beyond it lay the thickest of the woods. As they headed towards this main structure, Alexis shaded her eyes to get a better view of the three figures standing in front of it. T-Dog she recognized immediately as he raised a hand to wave at them. The second turned and went inside the building before they could draw close, but the third came straight towards them, and as he came into view Alexis felt a wide grin break across her face. _Miguel._

"_Oye,_ Angelita! Is that your face I see?" He shouted. He seemed taller than she'd remembered him. Leaner, browner...weathered like everyone else, she supposed.

"Well, it sure ain't somebody's _butt_," she shot back and remembered to drop the machete before he grabbed her in a hug, lifted her up off her feet and then set her back down again.

"Hey, little Asian dude," Miguel pointed at Glenn as he recognized him.

"It's Glenn," he said.

"At least he didn't call you _chinaman_," said Carl.

"Miguel... are you all living in a barn?" Alexis asked. Miguel turned to look up at the huge structure behind him and shrugged as they started walking towards it. She noticed more people now, hanging around in front of their tents or gathering around campfires. Several children were throwing a ball around in the open field, and Alexis smiled as Glenn and Carl headed over to watch them.

"Some," Miguel said. "It's solid, roof don't leak. We reinforced the doors so people can run here if walkers come. Has a storm cellar too. Mostly we live in the attached building, though. Less drafty and doesn't smell like horses."

"Okay, so it's a _good_ barn," said Alexis. "But why don't you all live in town? It's not like there isn't any room."

Miguel shifted his feet and looked suddenly uncomfortable, and Alexis raised her eyebrows.

"I know that look," she said. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do _nothing_," Miguel said, a little too firmly, and pointed towards the building attached to the barn. "You have to go see Abuela. G told her you were coming and she keeps asking about you. Come on. Where's that redneck dude? Felipe said you _married_ him...seriously?"

"He's with Rick, hunting. Don't change the subject," Alexis protested, but he was already at the narrow door and waving for her to follow.

The inside of the small building was as unremarkable as the outside. It was a single-story building, low and narrow but long and with three small rooms that may have once been offices set off a large storage space. The faint smell of hay and horses seemed to be permanently hanging in the air, but it wasn't exactly unpleasant and stirred some deep forgotten memory somewhere in the back of Alexis' mind. _Did I ever ride a horse? I don't remember having a twin brother... we were only five years old. But I remember a horse. How much could we have done that was worth remembering in five years?_ Miguel led her past several large wooden crates pushed up against the walls, topped with thin mattresses and blankets.

"Sometimes folks show up without tents or anything," Miguel explained. "They sleep here instead of the barn, it's warmer at night."

"You still haven't told me why you live out here in tents and a barn," Alexis reminded him. "Maybe a quarter of the town is populated. There's plenty of room."

"Yeah there is," Miguel sighed. "But not everyone gets to live in town. If you don't meet their standards, you get to pitch a tent here."

"What standards?" Alexis frowned. "I don't understand."

He stopped just outside the closed door of one of the smaller rooms and turned to look at her. She saw the shadows under his eyes, the leanness of his face. As she watched, a peculiar hardness passed across his eyes and he seemed to age several years right in front of her.

"Abuela," he called abruptly, and rapped on the door. "_Despierta... tiene un visitante!_"

* * *

><p>Daryl left the Grimes' house just before the sun started its descent towards the horizon. Glenn had brought Carl home and reported that Alexis was still visiting across the river. After a few moments of indecision, Daryl decided to head out there himself to find her. He didn't particularly mind that she'd gone, knocking around in the big house for days was driving her nuts and he was glad she'd have a chance to walk off some of her boredom. But he did mind the fact that if she came back alone, it would be in the dark. Even in this nice safe little haven, darkness meant possible walkers. It also meant it was easier for the guards to lurk and not be seen. Daryl wondered if anyone else had noticed how they liked to do that when a woman walked by.<p>

Not that there _were_ any single women in town, aside from Carol. It was one of the first things Daryl had noticed, everyone they met was married unless they were children. And if they were children, they lived with their parents or adopted family if they happened to be orphans. A very nice morally correct little town. Daryl slung the crossbow up onto his back and pocketed the revolver as he headed towards the river. Morals weren't going to keep walkers from attacking. In the center of town a bonfire was being built, no doubt in preparation for the Sunday feast. During explorations with Grimes today, they'd learned that three deer had been shot for the feast, and already he could smell the odor of boiling onions and other garden wonders, accompanied by laughter and even singing from inside the houses he passed.

"Evenin," he greeted the guard standing alone at the bridge, automatically looking around for the other. these guys always worked in pairs.

"Takin' a piss," the guard said, as if he thought Daryl wanted an explanation. "Where you goin'? Your woman ain't come back this way yet."

"I know," Daryl said. _Hello Mister Obvious._ "Goin' to meet her there. We'll stay put if it gets too dark."

"Wise," the guard yawned. "We ain't seen a walker in weeks, but you never know. Watch yerself out there."

Daryl gave him a single nod and crossed the bridge, then followed the narrow dirt path under late afternoon sun. It didn't take him long to find them, and the barn was almost impossible to miss. He heard someone shout his name and turned just in tome to catch the football that sailed right towards his face. He stumbled back a step and caught it, then glared at Carl as if he'd done it on purpose.

"You throw like a girl," he said scornfully. "Go long."

"Huh?" Carl looked confused.

"I said go long. _Run._ That way. So I can throw it to you, dumbass."

Carl ran, and Daryl tossed the football to T-Dog with a smirk.

"Aw, man," T-Dog said, and shaded his eyes to look at Carl, still running. "That's worse than faking the throw."

Daryl saw Alexis waving at him from where she was sitting in a metal and canvas beach chair, in front of a fire that had been built on the gravel area in front of the garage. A pot of something was simmering over it, and she was sipping from a metal cup filled with whatever was simmering there. Miguel sat on her right and Guillermo on his other side with a boy around twelve years old. More chairs were arranged in a half-circle, and they all looked up as Daryl approached and took the one next to Alexis. Miguel eyed him darkly for a moment, still not quite ready to forgive him for threatening to cut his feet off in Atlanta, but he said nothing.

"Gettin' late," said Daryl. "Stayin' out here tonight?"

"Maybe," said Alexis. "Sorry about that, just lost track of time."

Daryl shrugged and set the crossbow down on the ground, nodding at Guillermo across the circle.

"How's the old lady?" he asked her, but she shook her head with a sigh.

"She's weak, and so damn frail. I'm surprised she made it this far."

"We didn't think she would," Guillermo said. "Once we got her to the hospital, she did okay for awhile. But she's been sleeping a lot lately. Sometimes all day. She's been forgetting our names, too."

"Did you get anything?" Alexis asked Daryl with another tired sigh. "A deer for the feast?"

"Nope," said Daryl. "They got that covered themselves already. Been snoopin' with Grimes all day. Weird place." He saw Guillermo exchange a look with Alexis.

"Snooping where?" Alexis asked.

"Around," Daryl shrugged. "Don't like living somewhere if I don't know nothin' about it."

"What did you find out?" Guillermo asked.

"These people are assholes," Daryl said. Miguel snorted, and Guillermo grinned almost ear to ear.

"Do tell," said Alexis, and leaned forward to pour him a cup of the tea brewing in the pot.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Patti Smith, _Pastime Paradise_ (originally by Stevie Wonder)


	25. Kindred Society

_One day you see a strange little girl look at you_  
><em>one day you see a strange little girl feeling blue<em>  
><em>she'd run to the town one day<em>  
><em>leaving home and the country fair<em>  
><em>just beware<em>_ when you're there_, _strange little girl_  
><em>she didn't know how to live in a town that was rough<em>  
><em>it didn't take long before she knew she had enough<em>  
><em>walking home in her wrapped up world<em>  
><em>she survived but she's feeling old<em>  
><em>and she found all things cold<em>  
><em>strange little girl<em>_, where are you going?_  
><em>strange little girl<em>_, where are you going?_  
><em>do you know where you could be going?<em>  
><em>walking home in her wrapped up world<em>  
><em>she survived but she's feeling old<em>  
><em>cause she found all things cold<em>  
><em>strange little girl<em>  
><em>where are you going?<em>  
><em>do you know where you could be going?<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Kindred Society<strong>

After frightening the preacher's daughter by answering the door in a half-naked hungover state, Daryl Dixon decided to press his luck further by snooping and spying around town while everyone else was in church. It could only be a sort of coincidence that Rick Grimes had the same idea, and read it in Daryl's face the moment he answered his knock at his back door.

Lori had accepted the invitation to church with Carol and Sophie, and the trio had left early. No bells were rung to announce services, the noise would have carried far beyond the town limits and invited walkers to join them as well. Alexis, Glenn and Carl had left to head across the river shortly afterwards, leaving Daryl and Rick to go hunting. Since Dale and Andrea had taken a canoe downriver to fish, it seemed a logical excuse as any. Rick took one of the other two crossbows Daryl had brought from the hunting outlet and dressed himself to look the part of the hunter as much as he could.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Daryl wondered aloud as the two headed towards the center of town on foot.

"I have no idea," Rick answered. "All I know is, every time we find a place that seems safe it turns out to be just another bad idea. If this place is a bad idea, I want to know now."

"Maybe the bad idea is to stop anywhere longer than a couple days," Daryl suggested. "Enough roamers get in and start bitin'... could take this place down in just a few days."

"The town is pretty well-armed with what they took from Benning," Rick countered. "And the wall they're building just might do to the trick for the long run."

"Maybe," Daryl conceded. "But to hear y'all talk about that herd back at the farmhouse, it didn't take more than a few to bust down the door. A fence ain't gonna stop a big herd."

The wall, or fence, came into view as they approached the center of town. The main gate was its strongest point, as it effectively cut off entry into the village along the main road. They had demolished the most run-down and least habitable buildings in town, using the wood to build the fence. Across and up the river, not far from where many refugees and settlers camped, lay an old sawmill that had been put to good use for the first time in decades. They ran it during the day, the saws powered by a huge old water wheel, making fence posts and support beams for the ever-expanding wall.

"Their plan is to fence in the whole area, all the way back to the woods," Rick said. They paused and he pointed it out, Daryl squinted as he followed the direction of his finger, then shook his head.

"Can't build a wall around a whole town," he said. "It don't make no sense. They'll have to go into the woods to cut trees. Makes noise and attracts walkers. Even if they finish it, what then? Just sit behind the walls and wait. For what?"

"For anything," said Rick. "Or nothing. These folks aren't waiting to be rescued, Daryl. They're adjusting to the changes, not trying to run away from them."

"Uh huh," Daryl shaded his eyes and looked around the town square, which was completely empty. Music came from the church, the sound of voices led by an off-tune piano. "Maybe they ain't runnin'... but hidin' behind a wall is pretty much the same thing, ain't it?"

"I suppose," Rick sighed. "But Lori's going to have a _baby_ soon, Daryl. I'm not above hiding behind a wall if that's what it takes to keep my family safe."

Daryl found he couldn't argue with that, although the mental image of Alexis entering into motherhood was a frightening one at the very least. He'd noticed a few other pregnant women around town and wondered if they were all unplanned, as Lori's condition certainly was. Who in their right mind would _intentionally_ create a new, fragile and defenseless life during times like these? Alexis seemed to be both blessed and cursed with an inability to bear children. He knew from the way she talked about it that she would have had children if she could, but at the same time he was quietly grateful that she couldn't. Newborn babies were going to have to be born strong to survive now.

"All right," he sighed. "Then I guess we better make sure that this place is safe. Cause if it ain't, you'll have to convince Dale to turn the RV's shitter into a nursery. Ain't like it works, anyway."

"Exactly my point," Rick grimaced. "I'd feel a lot better if I knew my kids had a roof over their heads that doesn't need air vents."

They wandered quietly, observing and poking. The center of town was literally a wide circle. In the very center stood a raised wooden platform with four steps on each side. A tall wooden cross adorned the rear of the platform, and from the flattened state of the ground around it, Daryl and Rick both surmised that it was used for the evening prayers and other town gatherings. The church stood directly across from the platform, situated so people attending the outdoor services would have the stage in front of them and the church behind them.

Around the edge of the open center stood several houses and a large general store. Both knew it was used as a trading post now, although neither thought it would see much action without more incoming traffic. But the front porch of the store was wide and flat, having an old-west look to it. It was spacious enough for the farmers to set out their harvested produce. During times when money mattered, it was probably a very profitable little business. Now it was a necessity. Nothing was sold, people came to ask for what they needed and contribute what they had grown themselves in trade.

"Guess I see why they want us to do the gardens, then," Rick commented aloud as they walked past the store. "As long as everybody grows their own and trades, nobody starves or gets greedy."

"Somebody always gets greedy," Daryl said dryly. "What's that over there?" He pointed at an odd-looking wooden structure in front of another low, small building. As they approached it, Rick laughed out loud as he read the faded sign over the door.

_Kindred Constable_

"Huh," Daryl said. "So they do have law... or they did."

"Well, I think it's been awhile," Rick was standing in front of the wooden structure and bending down to read a plaque that appeared to have been there for a very long time. He observed a hinged bisected board with holes wide enough for wrists and an adult neck, then let out a small laugh. "This is an old wooden stockade...I'm guessing it hasn't been used since the turn of the century. Maybe this place used to get tourists." Daryl was looking in the windows of the building, and nodded at Rick's assessment.

"It's empty," he said. "Guess they don't have much use for it with only 30 somethin' people in town. Wonder if they'll put me in the stocks for scaring the preacher's daughter this morning."

"Doubtful," Rick laughed. "But I'd pay to see it anyway."

"Thanks a lot."

"Kindred," said Rick as they stepped back from the building and walked on. "Think that's the name of this place?"

"It was," a new voice called out to them, and both paused as a man somewhere between late sixties and early seventies smiled at them from a bench along the side of the road.

"Kindred Abbey," he smiled. "That's what they used to call it anyway."

"Used to," said Rick. "Not anymore?"

"Not many left who even knew this place ever had a name," the old man shrugged. "I'm Josiah Wilcox. My great-great-granddaddy was a witch-burning Puritan when he built this place. Not really my style, but I left the stocks there for the history buffs."

"You're one of the elders," Rick said. "No church today?"

"Nope," Josiah bent over slightly to spit, sending a steady brownish-black stream to the ground. "My tobacco habit offends some of the _gentler_ souls. And son, I'm the _only_ elder around here. If you're lookin' for someone with actual authority, you'll want my son. "

"Who's your son?" Daryl asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

"Well, he's the preacher of course. His name is Mikel. Guess you ain't met him yet."

* * *

><p>Josiah loved to talk, something that came of no surprise to Daryl. Old people always loved to talk. And he did more than talk, he led them both back to his house, a small cabin-style building with a front porch that looked out over the town center and offered them a drink from a big glass jug filled with a vile-smelling alcoholic brew of some sort. Both declined.<p>

But the more alcohol flowed, the more he talked. And the more he talked, the more Daryl resisted the urge to bang his head off the wall for walking into another nest full of weird people. Not _bad_ people in the sense he thought of people being bad... just _weird_ and he was pretty sure they were not the kind of neighbors Lex would have chosen.

"We shoot cannibals on sight," Josiah said. "Ain't no real law here so we don't mess around with the finer points of justice. First we heard there were people eatin' people out there we didn't believe it. It don't make no sense, any man with able hands can hunt for or grow his food. In the end my preacher son decided only a diseased spirit _chooses_ to take that route, and I can't say I disagree much. I like to say they're batshit crazy myself.

They started buildin' the wall right after the outbreak, as if that could keep disease out. When half the town got sick, the other half ran away. Just me and my son - Mikel - and his family stayed, hid ourselves out of sight and stayed quiet when the dead came walkin' through. A bunch of soldiers came through and put 'em all down for good, saved our collective asses if you know what I mean. Hannah had a broken wrist, so they took her to Benning. She came back with the doctor and a few refugees, a family with kids. Kind of just kept goin' like that. They built the gate and set armed guards after a few infected got inside and turned. Then one of the women was raped by a couple of refugees from Benning. Mikel decided then and there that even a small society needed laws, so he worked with the Doc to screen people before they came here and declared God's law was for all to follow. I wouldn't mind so much if it didn't include the no-drinkin' bit."

"What happened to them?" Daryl asked. "The ones who raped the woman?"

"Mikel had 'em executed," Josiah said lightly. "Wasn't no more than they deserved. Hanged 'em and then burned their bodies."

"Can't say I'm _too_ bothered by that," Rick mumbled, but decided to shift topics. "So why the house assignments? I've got no complaints about where we are, just curious. And why are people living across the river? There seems to be plenty of room in town."

"Well, you got a family, don't you? Wife, kids? First priority housing goes to the married ones with kids or capable of having kids. It's all part of our _civilized_ society, don't you know. Mikel's got it all planned out in his head. Safety, morality, community..." Josiah took a heavy gulp of the homemade brew and belched to emphasize his sarcastic tone.

"Seems a decent plan," said Rick cautiously, but cast a quick sideways glance at Daryl. "And a reasonable one with a small population."

"Yep," Josiah said. "People who make it here are so desperate for a normal life they'll agree to almost anything to have it." he took yet another heavy gulp, and Rick looked at Daryl again, and the latter shook his head at him ever so slightly.

"You have to obey the rules if you wanna stay in those nice houses," Josiah snorted. "And the fact that you boys ain't in church means you've already got points against you."

* * *

><p>"Fornication?" Alexis repeated flatly, staring at Daryl in disbelief. "It's illegal to have sex?"<p>

"Nope," Daryl shook his head. "It's illegal to _fornicate_. Sounds a lot nastier that way."

"As in sex without marriage," Guillermo added, and Alexis glared at him.

"I know what it _means_," she said. "I just haven't heard that word since I was ten. So what else are we not allowed to do?"

"Start with the ten commandments and work your way out from there, I guess," Daryl said.

"Oh, come on," Alexis said. "Seriously?"

"Drinking, gambling, fornication, adultery, stealing - especially crops or livestock - and pretty much anything that offends the preacher or his wife will get you banished from your pretty house in town," said Guillermo. "Most of us over here either broke one of their laws or just didn't want to bother worrying about them. We don't get to live in Pleasantville USA and partake in their community crop-sharing, but they let us trade or barter work for food and they don't let the kids starve."

"They don't screw around with the bad types," Daryl said. "Old man told us they kill cannibals on sight. Hang murderers and rapists, no questions asked. Can't say I disagree much there, but..."

"But who gets to decide who's guilty and who's not?" Alexis finished his thought, and everyone studied the campfire thoughtfully.

"Well," she continued after a brief silence. "Guess we're already going to hell with all the drinking and fornicating."

"They think we're married," Daryl reminded her. "So they can only get us on the booze."

"Are we really _staying_ here?" Alexis asked him. "Permanently? I mean... I don't care how other people live their lives, but are we going to be burned at the stake or something if they find out we're _not_ married?"

"Nah," Miguel spoke up. "But they might banish you altogether. Don't matter if they do, you can slip around through the woods and set up here. Guards never come here unless they're looking for someone, they only watch the bridge to keep track of us."

"Keep track?" Daryl frowned. "The ones I saw didn't seem to care that I crossed."

"You're a respectable member of society," Guillermo smirked. "At least until they catch you drinking and fornicating."

* * *

><p>"It's not <em>that<em> bad," Lori insisted. "I'm not sure if I'm actually a _sinner_ for exposing my arms for all to see at church, or if Daryl's going to burn in hell for drinking Southern Comfort... but at least nobody's trying to _eat_ us here."

They were sitting across from each other at the round table in the kitchen of their new home. Glenn had returned with Carl some time ago, and he was asleep upstairs. The quiet of the house at night reminded Rick of home... which led him to be reminded of what they had lost and further brought his mood down. The dour image painted by old Josiah Wilcox had not exactly endeared him to their new home, either.

"I don't think they're _bad_ people at all," he said. "I just question anyone that allows a leader to dictate their behavior. Did you meet him? What's he like?"

"He's... a preacher," Lori shrugged. "He's friendly, polite and seems to care about his people. His beliefs are a little too backwards-thinking for my taste. But if it's working for others, who are we to say they're wrong? I'm pretty sure I can do without drinking and gambling anyway... can't you?" She was only half-serious, but Rick couldn't help frown at her teasing tone.

"I'm serious, Lori. Even if they're just devout church people who follow the bible to the letter... fine, I don't really care. But do you really want our kids to grow up here? It's like this place never made it into the current century! And how do we know we'll be safe from walkers here? What if another one of those herds comes through? How do we know that won't happen?"

"We _don't_," said Lori firmly. "All I know is I'm tired of being on the road, and tired of living in fear of what _could_ happen if I close my eyes even for a moment. So is everyone else. Did you know Alexis and Daryl are sleeping on their living room floor because she's afraid to be too far away from the door in case they need to get out fast? Did you know Carol stays up all night praying and worrying that something will happen to Sophie if she falls asleep?"

"I know," Rick sighed heavily. "We've all been through hell. I know we need a break and I thought back at the lake we were doing all right..."

"We _were_ doing all right," Lori reached across the table and put both of her hands over his. "It was safer there than anywhere else we've been since this nightmare started. But the animals are infected, Alexis almost died from malaria... _Malari_a... who plans for that? We have access to medical help here. A _real_ doctor who can do something if we need help...and I'll be _damned_ if I'm going to have this baby in that smelly RV, Rick."

The earnestness of her tone and the grip of her hands said it all, Lori had no intention of leaving this place without a fight. Rick wasn't sure she was exactly wrong... the beliefs of the people here didn't fit with his own at all, or hers. But he wasn't sure that mattered anymore. Faith was something people needed, even more now than before. Who was he to judge others for making the most of it?

"All right," he said. "But as soon as they start requiring women to dress in black and be covered from the neck down, we're out of here."

"Deal," Lori smiled. "I'll even lead the way."

* * *

><p>Alexis and Daryl spent the night at the river camp, exchanging stories with Guillermo and Miguel. Felipe had been living at the hospital, working ridiculously long hours to work off the food they weren't growing. Guillermo and Miguel went over there often to do custodial work, but for the most part they stayed in the town and helped with the building of the wall. T-Dog had already decided to lend a hand in that area as well, and Alexis suspected Daryl and Glenn would likely do the same.<p>

The next morning they hiked back to town, to their house in _Pleasantville_ as Guillermo liked to call it. They'd not slept much, having spent most of the night whispering, discussing and arguing about whether or not they should stay or leave immediately. Alexis was dead-set against staying for much longer, if even for one more night. The mental picture she'd formed in her head of religious fanatics telling her what she could and could not do on a daily basis was an extreme one, and it awoke the worst of her memories from growing up in the Mayfield home. Daryl didn't completely disagree with her, but pushed for her to be reasonable and not give in to the urge to run off immediately.

"We'll pitch a tent across the river if you want," he said. "But we ain't got nowhere else to go. There's safety in numbers, Lex. And guns. this place has both."

"We could go back to the lake," she argued. "And wear mosquito repellent."

"Yeah, until it runs out. Come on... nobody's gonna force you to go to church. Get that girl to help you with the garden and I'll help them build the wall. If it doesn't work out, we leave."

"I hate that big house," she griped.

"So do I," he shrugged. "Let's ask that preacher if we can take a smaller one."

Overtired, hungry and lacking sleep, Alexis sullenly agreed to wait until they'd had a chance to talk to Rick and the others, but she refused to agree to talk to the preacher. As they crossed the bridge and were momentarily stopped by the guard until he recognized them as residents of the town, Alexis' anger only simmered faster. Not only were her friends across the river treated like second-class citizens, but they weren't even allowed in town without a valid reason. Daryl pointed out a small path leading into the woods and suggested they take it to avoid townspeople. Whether it was for her benefit or theirs, she didn't know, or care. The path wound through the woods for about half a mile before leading out to the back roads a short distance away from their house.

"Well, you're certainly right about them being assholes," she sighed as the shade of the woods enveloped them, Daryl walking in front of her with crossbow in both hands.

"But it's their town, so I suppose they can do what they think - " She stopped dead in her tracks when Daryl held up a hand to her, and strained her ears to hear what he was hearing.

"Over there," he whispered, and pointed to their right. Just as he spoke, a shrill small cry from deeper in the woods sounded, growing in both volume and intensity. A child's voice, Alexis realized, but Daryl was already running towards the sound before her own mind had fully registered it. Daryl splashed through a small stream with Alexis right behind him and immediately they both heard the sound of walkers snarling in a frenzy of hunger. Daryl shouted in surprise as a familiar-looking young girl appeared out of nowhere, crashing through the bushes and running wild-eyed straight towards them. She collided with him hard, but he caught her with one arm and spun so she stumbled towards Alexis.

"Hannah!" Alexis caught hold of her shoulders before she fell. Daryl was backpedaling towards them, raising his crossbow for a shot as the first of three walkers stumbled out of the bushes in full pursuit of the terrified girl.

The first one went down easily, but the second and third were on him too fast to allow him to reload. He turned and ran back as Alexis ran forward and swung her machete in a wide, upwards swing, catching the second walker across the neck and sending it flying backwards in a spray of black blood. The third grabbed for her, and she heard Hannah shriek as she hit the ground and rolled to avoid the grabbing hands. The girl was still screaming when Daryl quickly stepped up, grabbed hold of the rotting thing and plunged the long hunter's knife point-first up through the roof of its mouth, which was easy since it had no lower jaw. It collapsed in a heap as he yanked the blade free, and lay twitching as Alexis quickly rolled to her feet and hacked at the walker she'd taken down until its head rolled away from the body. Daryl stepped up and put an arrow through the decapitated head as Alexis ran to where Hannah was crouched sobbing on the ground.

The entire event had taken place so fast, Hannah was still recovering from the fact that she'd encountered walkers in the woods when Alexis's hands took hold of her, touched her face and pushed her hair back.

"She bit?" Daryl asked, approaching them with two bloodstained arrows in his left hand and the crossbow in the right. He watched with a frown as Hannah dissolved into tears punctuated with loud, wet hiccups.

"I don't think so," Alexis smoothed hair back to look at a gash on her forehead. "She must have fallen. She's in shock. Can you carry her?" Hannah immediately started to push herself up to her feet, and Alexis helped her stand.

"I can walk," she said. "I have to go home. I'm not supposed to... I have to go." She was talking fast, her eyes darting back and forth wildly and her skin a terrible pale shade. Voices sounded from behind them, and she screamed again as two armed guards came charging out of the trees, weapons pointed. Alexis pushed Hannah behind her and raised both hands, and Daryl slung the crossbow on his back so he could do the same.

"Easy guys," he said. They blinked at him, at the pile of walker bodies, at Hannah turning ten different shades of white, then lowered their weapons.

"That's Hannah Wilcox," one of them said in an undertone, then spoke to Daryl. "What are you all doing out here?"

"Picking mushrooms," Daryl said. "What the hell do you think?"

"Mushrooms," the man repeated blankly. "Whatever. Woods are off limits until we get more people on patrol. Come on, Hannah... we'll take you home." He held up a hand towards her and stepped forward, but the girl had a death grip on Alexis' arm and wouldn't let go. She bit back an exasperated sigh and waved the man off.

"We'll take her," she said. "Just point us in the right direction. Maybe you might want to check for more? Three walkers constitutes a crowd in my book." She pried Hannah's fingers off her wrist and knelt down to wipe both sides of her machete clean on the ground, then slipped it back onto the leather sheath at her waist. She looked up at them, noticing that they hadn't moved and were staring at her.

"There a problem, guys?" Daryl asked. The one who had spoken to him before turned and glared at him steadily, then gestured to his companion with a jerk of his head.

"Preacher lives at the top of the hill past the cornfields," he said, moving past them towards the remains of the walkers on the ground behind them.

"Come on," Alexis did her best to sound soothing and motherly, but to be honest she wasn't sure how. Hannah had no complaints when she put a hand on her shoulder to steer her out of the woods and towards town.

"I never seen anything like that," she girl said quietly once they reached the road. She glanced back at Daryl, who was walking behind them and keeping an eye on the woods beyond.

"Like what?" Alexis asked. People were passing by them, slowing to stare curiously then hurrying on as if they saw something that scared them.

"What you did back there," Hannah replied. "Both of you. You just _did_ it, without even _talking_ to each other. I never seen anyone do anything like that."

"Well, I hope you don't have to again," Alexis said, and gestured at the cornfields beyond the church as Daryl came up to walk on Hannah's other side. The girl immediately put out a hand and touched a finger to the stock of the crossbow on his back, then pulled it away as if she thought it might burn her.

"Never seen anything like that," the girl repeated, and her cheeks flushed pink as Daryl looked at her in amusement.

"What were you doin' out there?" he asked, but she only turned a deeper red and looked at the ground. Daryl glanced at Alexis over the top of her head and shrugged in a _what did I do_ gesture. Alexis hid her smile and looked away.

"You should take someone with ya next time," Daryl said simply, and looked down at the arrows in his hand, stained with walker blood, brains and hair. He paused and knelt to wipe them off on the grass, then followed the two as they started up the hill towards the preacher's house.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Tori Amos, _Strange Little Girl  
><em>


	26. Ungodly Ways

**A/N:** Hello everybody! Thanks for sticking with me here, I know updates have been slow. I've noticed a lot of newcomers coming in from Road to Nowhere, which I find amazing since there seems to be a HUGE flood of TWD fanfics recently. You all must really be digging deep! Thanks so much for all the reviews on both stories, I really do appreciate all your feedback.

Thank you in no particular order to **GingerGidget, Abbll, SpringsteensGirl, aubrey1, AvidReaderWolf, toorational, Paula, cassieleigh21, nekuranekomegami, emeraldonyxdragon, xXBXx, Azalia Fox Knightling, Not-the-Norm, Nelle07** *deep breath* **Leyshla Gisel, Readergirl66, SaraLostInes, Acoustix, viktorskrumpet, Cotton Strings, JoanieNobody, duffie83, SirenaErmosa, Quicksilvermad, Tenderloin Baby, ** (nice catch on the birthday!), **Bambina76, tomtom1995, Jasykes89, phantomfan2000, Persion, musicforsanity, aku15, orvokki**... whew... did I miss anyone? Please forgive me.

* * *

><p><em>The sun shines, and people forget<em>  
><em>The spray flies as the speedboat glides, and people forget<em>  
><em>Forget they're hiding<em>  
><em>The girls smile, and people forget<em>  
><em>The snow packs as the skier tracks, and people forget<em>

_Forget they're hiding._  
><em>Behind an eminence front<em>  
><em>Eminence front - It's a put on.<em>  
><em>Come on join the party, dress to kill<em>  
><em>Won't you come and join the party<em>  
><em>Dress to kill<em>

_The drinks flow, people forget_  
><em>That big wheel spins, the hair thins, people forget<em>  
><em>Forget they're hiding<em>  
><em>The news slows, people forget<em>  
><em>The shares crash, hopes are dashed, people forget<em>

_Forget they're hiding._  
><em>Behind an eminence front<em>  
><em>Eminence front - it's a put on<em>  
><em>Come on join the party, dress to kill<em>  
><em>Dress yourself to kill...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Ungodly Ways<strong>

"What the hell's going on?" Andrea paused in helping Dale pull the canoe back up onto the riverbank and watched as three guards ran past them, heading towards the center of town. Several townspeople passed almost immediately afterwards, running in the same direction. Shouts could be heard from the center of town, and Andrea wondered if more walkers had wandered in.

"Not sure," said Dale. "Something's got everyone worked up, though. We better check it out." He handed her the two heavily-laden strings of freshly-caught fish and opened the cooler so she could lay them inside. They stacked the fishing tackle on top of the closed cooler took one handle each, carrying it between them as they headed back towards town.

"I hope it's not more walkers," Andrea sighed. "Ever since Daryl and Lex ran into those three in the woods it seems there have been more and more of them.

"The wall isn't going up fast enough," Dale said. "But at least this place is isolated enough that there aren't packs of them roaming everywhere."

"Packs," Andrea smirked. "Herds... have you noticed we talk about them like they're animals?"

"Well, in a way I guess they are," Dale shrugged. "All they do is act on basic instinct. Aggressively."

Nearly four weeks had passed since their arrival at Kindred Village. T-Dog and Glenn had immediately set up camp across the river with the _Vatos,_ as everyone had come to call them, and neither Andrea nor Dale had seen or heard much from them since. They were both helping with the building of the wall, as were Rick and Daryl, but other than seeing them around town on occasion, they had quickly made themselves scarce.

Daryl had managed to earn himself the title of hero by rescuing the preacher's daughter from certain death at the hands of three walkers in the woods. The girl had told and retold the story so many times, the details had expanded to the point where Andrea expected to hear that he could fly next time the story came around. During the evolution of the tale, Lex had been all but cut out of it to the point where she was just a random passerby after the fact, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to find humor in Daryl's extreme discomfort over being greeted with praise everywhere he went, and graciously allowed him all the credit. In a show of gratitude for his daughter's life, the preacher had assigned her as Alexis' personal garden assistant, and the two of them had quickly worked her sparse patch of dirt into something that promised a hearty bounty. Daryl spent all his time working on the wall or hanging around the camp across the river, and Lex would often join him there, although Andrea thought it seemed she was home alone more and more often lately. Daryl had given one of the crossbows he brought with him to Miguel, and in an uncharacteristic display of helpfulness was teaching the young man to hunt with it so their people wouldn't have to rely on snared rabbits and small game for meat.

Next door to Lex and Daryl, the Grimes family also learned to adapt and fit in. Lori's own vegetable garden was smaller, but the townspeople seemed to dismiss that easily given her _condition_. Andrea hated that word. It made it sound like an affliction or disease. Carl was attending school of a sorts with the other nine children in town, and Rick worked on the wall during the day like every other male in town. Carol and Sophia lived in the Grimes house, but Carol was spending most of her time at the church and Sophia was only seen during the day when she was with the other children. Lori and Alexis seemed to have struck an unexpected friendship, and they spent long hours talking and working with Hannah in their gardens. Lex refused to attend church and remained politely aloof from the rest of the town. Her standoffish ways were clearly defensive, and having heard a small bit of her past Andrea could hardly blame her.

More refugees came, some in the same way that they had, by circumstance and coincidence. Others appeared at the gates and were turned away, and once the entire town had pulled together to fight off an attack by poorly-organized plunderers. _Attack_ perhaps was not the correct word, but Andrea was starting to see where survival of the fittest was already starting to play into their daily lives. Across the river, the Vatos defended their own grounds against walkers and the occasional intruder with no regular help from the guards. What very few people knew was that Rick had smuggled weapons to them via Daryl and his motorcycle. Since he was prohibited from driving it in town after his first sound-barrier-shattering arrival, it was a logical move to take it across the river and park it in the Vatos barn. Nobody questioned the large duffel bag he delivered to them at the same time. The helicopter at the base was grounded, mainly because it had maintenance needs that nobody had the skills to meet, and they began to rely on two large Army transport trucks for moving back and forth between the village and the base. Gasoline still seemed plentiful enough from Fort Benning's huge underground storage tanks, as long as they used it sparingly.

Andrea was glad to have her fishing skills, and although she had already grown tired of small-town life, she found she was starting to like the fact that people sought her out to trade their own food wares for her prized fresh catches. She also liked the fact that it allowed her to take the canoe up and down the river with Dale, giving them the chance to explore further without interruption or suspicion. They reported back to Rick daily as he seemed convinced that something terrible was lurking just below the surface. But the worst issue they could uncover was the town leadership's tendency to place higher a value on some lives than others. Specifically, anyone who lived across the river was a second-class citizen to those who had been permitted to stay in town. Andrea and Dale were not exactly prohibited, but being unmarried and beyond the point of bearing children meant they didn't rate a big house on one of the picturesque side streets. It mattered little to either of them. Dale parked the RV on the riverbank just outside of town, close to the bridge where they could cross over to either side at any time, and they lived in relative comfort. They even went to church once in awhile, and Andrea no longer woke up drenched in cold sweat with her heart pounding and her mind racing with images of Amy lying bloodied and torn in her arms... in short, they were once again starting to feel at home. It nagged at the back of Andrea's skull that she should feel at home here at all, but safety and security were things of the past in so many ways now, it seemed only natural to feel that it was possible to have both here.

Her thoughts rambled on by themselves as they walked, but as they drew closer to town, a high-pitched wailing could be heard, and Andrea felt her heart sink. She knew that sound only too well, having made it herself once. She exchanged a glance with Dale and saw the grim expression on his face. He knew that sound as well. Up ahead people were clustering in small groups, talking excitedly, crying and shouting at each other. Andrea frowned as chaos seemed to rise in pitch, and she and Dale both set their end of the cooler down at the same time. Across the center square, Andrea spotted Rick hurrying towards them with the same confused expression on his face that she figured she was wearing. Most of the people in the square were gathered around something she couldn't see, but as she hurried closer, trying to peer through the small crowd to see, she caught sight of a pair of very small feet, then legs lying flat on the ground.

"Oh my god," she breathed as Rick met her just outside the throng of murmuring, droning people. "Who is it? What happened?" Dale pushed past her into the center of the circle and she followed with Rick right behind her.

"He's dead," a woman's voice reached her ears just as she made her way through the crowd, sobbing and barely understandable. "My Aaron is dead... those monsters killed him!"

Dale looked up at Andrea, then at Rick from where he knelt next to the body of a boy anywhere between seven and ten years old, his knee almost touching the pool of blood that was steadily growing beneath him. On his other side a woman, presumably his mother, knelt white-faced and sobbing, the dead man's head cradled in her lap.

"Everybody move," Rick switched into policeman mode and started doing the firm-gentle-push to make people step out of the way. Several guards had arrived from the gate and moved to help him get the crowd to settle back.

"Come on people, give her some space, and get those kids out of here," The crowd pushed back enough to let him through, but nobody had any intention of clearing out. Rick turned around and spotted Lori through the crowd, waving at her to keep Carl away.

"What happened to him?" Andrea asked, and swallowed hard, trying not to look at the boy's face. Nobody answered her, instead Rick took the dead boy by the shoulders and gently eased him down onto the ground while his mother shuffled backwards into the arms of the women who gathered behind her. A wide, ghastly wound showed at the side of his neck, and the brightness of the blood that soaked his clothes was in sharp contrast to the whiteness of his skin. Andrea felt a chill run through her as a vision of Amy's face drifted into her thoughts.

"He was out in the woods," one of the women said. "Looking for rabbits, he said. A walker attacked him, he got bit but managed to get away and ran back here..."

"That's the fourth one in a week," somebody else said. "Why are there so many recently?"

"The wall isn't finished," another voice broke in. "Until it is, we're all at risk."

Rick looked around at the gathering crowd and stood up, confused by the rising babble of voices and indignant shouts. These people seemed honestly surprised every time a walker appeared, as if they truly believed they were exempt from the horrors that existed beyond their wall of imagined safety. Dale shrugged at him in the same confusion, and Rick raised his hand, preparing to address the crowd and try to calm them down. The guards who had drawn near stood uselessly, looking just as frightened and confused. But a new voice rose above his and he turned to face the town preacher, Mikel Wilcox as he pushed through the crowd.

Dressed in traditional black with a white collar, the preacher was a tall, lanky man who had more than once frightened children with his skeletal-like appearance, but his eyes were sharply blue and capable of warmth, and he wore his wheat-colored hair long which gave him a touch of youth.

"Please, friends," he raised both hands, his smooth voice carrying clearly over the rising fear. Silence immediately fell as he spoke, even the sobs of the grieving mother ceased. Dale raised an eyebrow at Rick, but said nothing.

"Please don't give in to panic," Mikel said, and stood looking at the body of the boy on the ground before him with an expression of such sadness it set the boy's mother into hysterical tears again. He knelt down and gently closed the boy's eyes, then nodded at Rick as if in thanks.

"The loss of a child is hardest to bear," he said. "Especially during these difficult times. Please don't allow this tragedy to shake your faith in God. He has taken young Aaron away from the hardships of life..."

"God is abandoning us," Aaron's mother interrupted him. "Too many newcomers don't believe, they don't ask God to forgive them for their ungodly ways... He is _punishing_ us! Even your own daughter's life was in danger, have you forgotten?"

"I have not," Mikel said firmly. Rick stepped back out of the circle of onlookers to join Dale and Andrea as the preacher continued to speak. "And I have also not forgotten that were it not for two of these very newcomers, she would surely have died. The woods are off-limits, and children are not to go anywhere alone. Aaron knew that, as did my daughter. They acted foolishly as children sometimes do."

"Will somebody please tell me why everyone around here spends so much time in the woods?" Andrea murmured in an undertone to Dale. He shrugged and started to answer, but stopped when the preacher raised both hands dramatically towards the sky.

"Pray with me, friends. Pray for the swift journey of our young brother's soul to God. Pray for our continued safety here, under the watchful eye of God in our - "

"Walkers!" Shouted the lookout from on top of the church. "Walkers coming out of the woods behind the South fields!"

Rick immediately sensed panic in the square, and people started to look around desperately for their children, their families and loved ones. He spotted Glenn standing just beyond the edge of the rapidly-dispersing crowd and waved at him to come closer.

"You," he pointed at the closest guard. "Take two more and get over to the South fields. No shooting if you can help it, blunt weapons only! You," he pointed at the one standing behind the dead boy's mother, who looked far too young to wear a uniform. "Take her home and stay with her. Make sure she's safe, understand?" he turned away as the young guard nodded wordlessly and started trying to lead the hysterical woman away.

"Everyone else get inside the church and secure the doors," Rick raised his voice to be heard above the sound of frightened townsfolk. "Please don't panic, folks...if it's only a few we can take care of this." He tried to ignore the dark, suspicious looks of the people as they moved to take shelter under his orders despite their mistrust.

"We need to get that body off the street," He said to Glenn and the preacher. "Fresh blood will draw them if they get into town. He'll become one of them you know, unless we make sure he doesn't."

"Yes," Mikel nodded, studying Rick with a sharp, curious expression. He bent down to take Aaron by the shoulders himself as Glenn moved to lift the boy's feet. "We know what needs to be done. Believing that God will save our souls when we die doesn't mean we shouldn't protect the living first."

"Amen to that," said Rick.

* * *

><p>"You're early," Alexis shaded her eyes as Hannah hurried across the back lawn towards her, a basket covered with a cloth over one arm and mud caked on her sneaker-clad feet and the hem of her dress. "You cut through the woods again. Why do you keep doing that? Daryl isn't here, so it would have to be me who rescued you."<p>

"That would be all right," the girl smiled at her. "Or you could teach me to fight."

"Not a chance," Alexis laughed. "Your father is already regretting letting you come here. You cut out of church again, didn't you?"

"Yes," the fair-haired girl sat down on the grass and started pulling things out of the basket. Alexis knelt beside her to see what she'd brought. "It's so hot in there, I always fall asleep and the pole-man knocks on my head."

"Pole man?" Alexis gave her a confused look.

"He carries a long pole with a knob on the end," Hannah explained, and handed Alexis a jar filled with wild mushrooms and edible roots. "When it gets really hot in there, it's horrible. They don't open the doors and people always fall asleep. The pole man raps them on the head to wake them up."

"That's barbaric," Alexis mumbled and stood up with the jar.

"I hate it," Hannah had perfected the art of teenaged whining without ever having set foot outside the tiny town. "He got me three times today. I wish I could live here with you and Daryl. You wouldn't make me go to church."

"Daryl doesn't like kids," Alexis said abruptly. She didn't mention that Daryl hadn't been home in three nights, although he had come by the day before to bring several rabbits for her and Lori to cook and share. He was pushing himself hard during the day, helping get the wall built, then hunting with Guillermo or by himself as the mood struck him. More often than not, he would crash for the night at the camp across the river, then return briefly during the day. Alexis sensed moodiness immediately, but vowed to leave him alone and not act like a nagging wife. _Not yet anyway._

"I'm not a kid," Hannah insisted. "Besides, he likes Carl. I've seen them across the river, he let him fire his crossbow."

"He did _what?_" Alexis turned around to look at her, then glanced towards the Grimes' house. "Keep your voice down, Lori would flip. She still thinks it's bad enough he knows how to shoot a gun."

"Carl can fire a gun?" Hannah's eyes popped wide, and Alexis quickly shifted topics.

"When did you go across the river? And get up off the ground, your mother is going to have a fit if you get mud on your... oh... forget it."

Hannah stood up and looked down at her dress with a scowl, then shook her head and pulled it off over her head. Alexis blinked in surprise as she tossed it onto the ground and stood there dressed in nothing but a light, short slip that did almost nothing to cover her.

"She makes me dress like a little girl," Hannah pouted. Alexis opened and then closed her mouth, having noticed immediately that Hannah was very clearly _not_ a little girl anymore.

"Fucksake," Alexis cursed, and Hannah gaped at her as if she'd just spoken in tongues. Alexis strode forward to pick up her dress and grab the girl's arm."Come on, I'll give you something to wear and you _wash_ this. Got it?"

Thrilled at the thought of getting to wear Alexis' clothes, even temporarily, Hannah agreed enthusiastically. An hour later, dressed in an ill-fitting pair of Alexis' jeans and a tank top that exposed far more skin than she was used to, she sat on the back steps dunking the blue-flower garment in a wide-mouthed bucket of soapy cold water and chattering endlessly as she scrubbed at the dirt with her fingers.

Alexis pulled weeds from the garden, not answering her while she talked. At first she had been dismayed at the girl's seeming inability to shut up, but as time went on she started to listen closer, and realized that she might very well be looking at the young girl she might have been herself if things had gone differently for her earlier in life.

Hannah talked about her strict parents, her brother who was killed by walkers, her grandfather who drank and swore without worrying about going to Hell. She talked about how her real mother had run away years ago, and her father remarried Marion for her strict beliefs. She talked about how much she hated the town, her home, school... life... it was disconcerting in some ways. She complained about the things that any teenager might complain about, as if nothing in her life had changed since the dead started walking. And on that subject, Alexis learned that her father had no end of theories as to what had happened or why.

"They're demons," Hannah said now. "That's what he said today. Servants of Satan. They use the bodies of the dead to walk the Earth to punish the wicked for their ungodly ways." She paused in her scrubbing as she realized Alexis was looking at her as if she had nine heads.

"That's what he said," she mumbled.

"I figured as much," said Alexis. "But what do _you_ think?"

"I don't know," she said. "Those things killed my brother, and he wasn't wicked, or evil. Daddy says he sacrificed himself to save us."

"That's a very brave thing to do," Alexis said quietly.

"I think they're just _dead_," Hannah frowned. "I don't know why they're walking, but Daddy says they stay out of our town when everybody obeys God. Mama said they came after me because I was in the woods playing around instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing. She says... " she stopped and looked at Alexis awkwardly, then blushed and focused on her washing again.

"What does she say?" Alexis pressed her, kneeling in the dirt with a handful of weeds in her hand.

"She says the new people who keep coming in are ungodly. Like the ones who go across the river. But Daddy said that you and Daryl were sent by God to save me, so I should come here to help you and repay you. He says you're good people even though you don't go to church."

"Well," Alexis blinked. "That's very generous of him. But Hannah... going to church doesn't _make_ people good. Bad people go to church, too. Not that I'm saying your father or anyone else here is bad... but... well, it's more complicated than that."

"I know," she said, and looked around cautiously as if worried that someone might overhear. "There was a woman here in town, some men hurt her. They went to church, too. Mama says they _shamed_ her... I don't know what that means, but Daddy had them hanged for it. Then he sent her to live across the river. He said she was _tainted_ and couldn't stay with us. I asked him what he meant by _tainted_, but he got angry and wouldn't tell me. Do you know what it means?"

Alexis sat there for a moment, shifting the weeds around in her hand and wondering if she'd somehow fallen into an episode of _Little House on the Prairie_. This girl was fifteen - sixteen? - years old. No doubt a virgin, probably never had a boyfriend, and here she was asking Alexis to explain rape to her. _Yikes_. _How can a kid still be so sheltered in this day and age?_

"I suppose he means to protect you, and his people," Alexis finally ventured. "But - " she broke off as the distant sound of gunfire reached them, and both stood up immediately, looking in the direction of the center of town.

"Who's shooting?" Hannah said. "There's not supposed to be any shooting!" She jumped as Alexis pushed past her and grabbed the machete that stood waiting for her next to the steps leading up to the back door.

"Stay here," she ordered. "Inside and lock the doors if any of those - "

"I'm not staying here by myself!" Hannah screeched, hastily pulling on her shoes and stumbling after Alexis.

"Hannah, no... you can't... oh... dammit. Stay _behind_ me. I mean it." Alexis sighed and turned towards the woods at a run, aiming for the narrow path that Hannah insisted on walking every day despite the danger inherent. Hannah rushed to catch up with her, and the two of them crashed through the thin cover of the trees, heading towards town.

* * *

><p>"There! Over there!" Glenn pointed in the direction of the cornfields that bordered the South edge of town, and sure enough, Rick saw the opening in the wooden wall, just wide enough for several walkers to come though at once. It didn't occur to him at that moment to wonder about that opening, since the South portion of the wall had been completed for months.<p>

Rick was already sprinting forward to catch up with the three guards who were ahead of him, taking the dirt road behind the field to circle around to the wall. He spotted Daryl coming out of the cornfield on their right with Miguel right behind him, moving to intercept the walkers before too many came through. He took aim with his crossbow and dropped the first walker, immediately slowing down the flow through the opening. He ran forward, fitting an arrow in for another shot, and Rick cursed as he realized Daryl and the guards didn't see each other.

"Hold your fire!" Rick shouted at the guards as they stopped in a line and raised their weapons at the walkers. "NO! Goddammit, hold your - " He skidded to a stop as they all opened fire at once, and Miguel shouted wordlessly as Daryl dropped to the ground like a stone, several walkers falling under the gunfire all around him.

"Holy shit!" Glenn shouted. "Holy shit, they shot Daryl! Did they shoot him?"

"Hold your goddamned fire!" Rick bellowed, and one of the guards, young and pale-faced, turned to look at him in shock as he approached them at a run. Rick shoved at him hard and slapped his weapon aside as he pushed through them, the expression of frustration and rage causing them all to stop and step back.

"Stupid _pendejos!_" Guillermo shouted as he reached the spot where Daryl had fallen and grabbed at a walker's leg, trying to drag it out of the way. He continued to curse the guards in fractured Spanish as he yanked futilely, pausing to take one clumsy shot with his own crossbow as two more walkers appeared in the opening.

Glenn tossed Rick the baseball bat he was carrying and hurried over to help Miguel haul Daryl out from under the walker bodies. People were coming from all directions now, and as Rick swung the bat at the next walker coming through the fence, he saw T-Dog and Guillermo coming fast with what appeared to be... _cricket bats? ._.. in hand. Together the three of them held back the walkers from coming in, and Glenn pulled himself up to the top of the eight-foot wall to try and see how many there were beyond. The young, pale-faced guard joined the fray, clubbing at the walkers with the butt of his rifle.

Rick heard Daryl cursing loudly as the noise suddenly started to die down, and he stepped back abruptly, realizing he'd been viciously striking the head of a walker until it was little more than a wet spot on the grass. His breathing came rapid-fire and hoarse, and he realized T-Dog and Guillermo were both standing still, blood-tipped bats in their hands and watching him with guarded expressions. Rick glanced down at himself and saw his clothes soaked in sweat and gore, then looked around to see a small crowd of townspeople, mostly men, were watching at him just as strangely.

"That's it, we got 'em all." Glenn reported from the top of the wall, then jumped down, landing lightly on the grass next to where Daryl was sitting up, glaring death at the guards and holding a ripped piece of Miguel's shirt to a wound in his right side. Miguel was crouched next to him, but keeping arm-length distance between them just in case Daryl decided to start swinging. The battle had lasted just over several minutes, Rick realized, but everyone looked like they'd been at it for hours. The silence seemed enormous and sudden, and he realized it was the steady droning hum of the walkers that was missing, as well as the wet crunching sound their heads made when they split open under repeated blows.

"Which one a'you jackasses shot me?" Daryl demanded loudly, and the entire group turned to look at the three guards.

"It was an accident," said the young one who had, unbeknownst to Rick, killed a walker just before it had grabbed a hold of him from behind. "We didn't see him, he just ran right into the line of fire."

"I told you to _hold_ your fire," Rick growled at him fiercely, then cast his eyes on the other two, who were shifting awkwardly but looking back at him defiantly.

"You ain't in charge," one of them said. "We got to protect the Village, and - "

"Shut up," Rick took two fast steps forward and grabbed his weapon from him in a swift, unexpected move. "You're not soldiers, none of you are. I don't know where you got those uniforms, but I'm betting none of you ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit in your lives. Every time you fire a shot, you're attracting more. Maybe they won't come today, but they will come. Unless some other _idiot_ fires a shot somewhere else to distract them."

"Grimes," a voice called, and Rick turned to see the preacher approaching them at a run with three of the men from town behind him. All were armed with various items, including a pitchfork. "Good lord... are you all right? Is anyone hurt?"

"Your men shot one of my men," Rick said bluntly. "If they knew how to aim, they might have killed him. Maybe it's time somebody taught them how to _use_ the weapons you're giving out so readily."

Mikel blinked at the harshness of his voice, and paused briefly to take in his gore-covered appearance as well as that of the others around him. He studied the dozen walker bodies on the ground, all but a few with heads bashed and crushed beyond recognition, then glanced towards Daryl as Guillermo and T-Dog hoisted him up to his feet. Daryl said nothing further, only glared at him and leaned on Guillermo with his left arm, holding the cloth to his wounded right side.

"Maybe it is," he said simply. "But first I'd like to know why there's a hole in the wall. This portion was finished months ago."

"You figure that out," said Rick angrily. "I'm taking him to the hospital at Benning."

"No," Daryl grunted. "It ain't deep. Lucky for me the dumb bastards can't shoot. Doc's across the river anyway."

"She is?" Rick and Mikel both said at the same time. Guillermo shot the preacher a disgusted look, but it was Miguel who spoke.

"Abuela's dying," he said. "Me and Daryl were coming to get Lex when we heard everyone shouting. Doc came to give her pain meds."

"I see," said Mikel. "I'm sorry to hear that. "We'll pray for her, of course."

"Sure you will," Guillermo said under his breath.

"Wanna take your finger off th' trigger there, stupid?" Daryl snapped at the nearest guard as he limped away towards the river with Guillermo's help and Glenn right behind. The guard looked down at his weapon and quickly snapped the safety on. Rick held out his hand without a word, and he handed the weapon over.

"Go find Lex," Rick said to Miguel. "Do you know where she lives? Ask at the church, and tell Lori we're all okay, will you? T-Dog, take two men and run the whole length of this wall and make sure it's secure. This hole didn't happen by accident," T-Dog nodded grimly and handed one of the recently-disarmed guards a baseball bat, and Rick turned to Mikel.

"We need to talk," he said bluntly. "After we burn all these bodies and close up that gap in the fence, I'd like a word or two."

* * *

><p>"Lori!" Alexis called out, her voice carrying across the square as she spotted Lori on the front steps of the church, shading her eyes and looking South. Andrea came out of the door at the sound of Alexis; voice, and Dale appeared right behind her as Alexis and Hannah approached at a run.<p>

"We heard shots," Alexis said breathlessly. "Who's shooting? What happened?"

"Lookout spotted walkers coming through the wall behind the South fields," Andrea said. "I don't know how many, everyone's inside until it's clear." She was carrying her gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans as always and wearing the wide, floppy-brimmed hat she often wore when fishing.

"South fields," Alexis repeated. "Last week they came from the West, and the other day they came right up to the main gate."

"Feels like we're being surrounded," Dale nodded as he finished her thought.

"The wall will hold them back, with God's blessing," a new voice sounded, and they all turned to see Marion Wilcox, the preacher's wife approaching them.

Alexis resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They'd met only once before, the day she and Daryl had brought Hannah home. The woman's cold and emotionless reaction to hearing what had almost happened to her daughter had told Alexis all she needed to know, and she'd taken great pains to avoid her ever since. Marion Wilcox was tall and imposing, her blonde hair streaked with gray and pulled back so tightly Alexis wondered if her ears changed position when she took it down. Her facial features were sharp and aristocratic, but with some familiarity to them that Alexis couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Nice to see you again," Marion nodded pleasantly at Alexis, then smiled at the others. Alexis suddenly became aware that Hannah was hiding behind her. Dressed in her borrowed clothing, she was all but invisible to her mother's gaze at the moment.

"Where is my husband, does anyone know?" Marion looked at Andrea with a smile.

"He went to the wall, to help out as he could," Dale answered her. "You should be inside with the others. We'll watch out for him."

"No thank you," she smiled thinly at Dale, and he blinked in surprise, then glanced at the others as if wondering if they'd heard the cold edge to her voice when she spoke to him.

"What about my daughter?" Marion glanced at Alexis. "She was with you wasn't she? I hope you didn't leave her alone - " She stopped abruptly as Hannah shuffled out from behind Alexis, and stood in full view of her mother with her face lowered. Andrea let out a strange cough, then looked away when Marion shot a sharp glare at her.

Hannah was wearing a blank tank top and a pair of Alexis' jeans, cinched in place with a belt she'd dug out of a closet in the big old house. The bottoms were rolled up, showing her ankles over ragged sneakers, and she'd topped the outfit with a baseball cap, her hair pulled up to keep it off her neck in the heat. Strands of her blonde hair had drifted loose and framed her face, and her cheeks were flushed pink from heat and excitement. But it was the tight-fitting and low-cut shirt that drew everybody's eye, including her mother's. Marion stared at her in obvious shock, her eyes traveling up and down as if she didn't recognize her. Alexis wondered if she dressed her daughter like a child to hide the fact that her body was almost fully matured at such an early age.

_Awkward._

Alexis saw a shadow move and looked up at the tower that was built into the top of the church. The lookout was now pointing the binoculars at Hannah. She cleared her throat loudly, and the binoculars moved quickly.

"Someone's coming," the lookout called. "I think we're all clear now." Everyone except Hannah turned to see Miguel coming up the main road from the outlying fields at a run. He slowed as he came into the town square and stopped, bending over and putting both hands on his knees. Alexis and Lori ran to meet him, and he looked up at them with face flushed deep red and sweat pouring down his face.

"I never ran so much in my life as I do here," he panted, and sat down right on the ground in the middle of the road. Dale handed him a bottle of water, and he took several long, grateful gulps. Lori was watching him anxiously, but Miguel's eyes fell on Hannah standing just behind her and he abruptly choked on the water, sputtering for several seconds to breathe again.

"You can just nod," Dale tried not to smile. "Is everyone okay?" Miguel nodded and risked another drink, then looked at Hannah again. Alexis almost groaned out loud as his eyes lingered on her face then dropped down to where her more than ample cleavage all but glowed in the sunlight... he coughed again and pulled his gaze away from her.

"Rick's okay," he said hoarsely to Lori, and coughed once more before turning to Alexis, who was crouched beside him. "Daryl got winged, though. Guillermo's taking him across the river. The lady doc's there with Abuela. You have to come."

"Winged?" Alexis repeated. "You mean _shot?_ How? Who?"

"What idiot shot him?" Andrea exclaimed.

"One of three idiots. Stupid _puntas,_ they'll kill someone someday." Miguel said, and let Dale pull him to his feet. Hannah's face was at his eye level now, and she standing only five or six feet away. He stared openly at her for almost a five-count, until Alexis pushed hard at his shoulder.

"Right," Miguel turned to face her. "He'll be okay, doc will fix him. I ain't running no more, but I'll walk with you. Come on. Rick and the preacher are coming back here soon," he said to Lori, who nodded and closed her eyes for a moment in relief.

"Well then," Marion spoke up, regarding Miguel with an expression that suggested there was an odor in the air before turning to Alexis. "You'd better get to your husband, dear, and I'd better see to our people." She turned and marched two steps over to Hannah, and Lori and Andrea gasped out loud as the woman raised her hand and slapped Hannah hard right across the fact.

"Hey!" Miguel said.

"Mrs. Wilcox," Dale stepped forward, but Marion slapped the girl again and shoved her in the direction of the road that led to their house.

"You get home before anyone else sees you," Marion snarled. "Change your clothes and stay in your room until I get there. Now! And you -" She turned towards Alexis as Hannah stumbled away with a strangled sob, and headed towards home at a run.

"My daughter is not yours to corrupt," Marion seethed. "I'm grateful to you for saving her life, but my gratitude only goes so far. From now on, you stay away from her." She turned on her heel and strode towards the church, climbed the wooden steps with hard, heavy footfalls and slammed the door behind her. Lori and Andrea looked at each other with mouths open, then at Dale, then at Alexis.

"What just happened?" Andrea asked.

"It's my fault," Alexis and Miguel both said at the same time.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Who, _Emminence Front_


	27. Angel Tears

_The windows of the world are covered with rain_  
><em>Where is the sunshine we once knew?<em>  
><em>Everybody knows when little children play<em>  
><em>They need a sunny day to grow straight and tall<em>  
><em>Let the sun shine through<em>

_The windows of the world are covered with rain_  
><em>When will those black skies turn to blue?<em>  
><em>Everybody knows when boys grow into men<em>  
><em>They start to wonder when their country will call<em>  
><em>Let the sun shine through<em>

_The windows of the world are covered with rain_  
><em>What is the whole world coming to?<em>  
><em>Everybody knows when men can not be friends<em>  
><em>Their quarrel often ends where some have to die<em>  
><em>Let the sun shine through<em>

_The windows of the world are covered with rain,_  
><em>There must be something we can do<em>  
><em>Everybody knows whenever rain appears<em>  
><em>Its really angel tears<em>  
><em>How long must they cry?<em>  
><em>Let the sun shine through<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Angel Tears<strong>

Guillermo was waiting for them when they crossed the bridge at a run, despite Miguel's vow to never run again after his dash back into town. It was only springtime, but already the days had begun to grow oppressively hot before noontime and both were covered in a thin film of sweat and dirt from the unpaved roads by the time they reached the river camp.

"He's fine," Guillermo assured Alexis before she could ask about Daryl. "Pissed off and scaring the kids, but fine. Doc said she'll look at him soon."

"Doctor Stevens," Alexis said as they made their way through what Miguel called "tent city," which was exactly that - a small city made up entirely of tents in all types, shapes and sizes. Alexis noticed that there seemed to be at least double the number of tents since her last visit, and she almost stopped short at the sight of the large mobile medical unit military-style tent set up in the wide open field across from the barn. Several men and women could be seen moving around inside and outside as they worked to get it set up.

"Why is she here? Why are _they_ here?"

"You need to come around more often," Guillermo said. "News travels slow down in Happy Valley. Fort Benning got overrun by walkers. Thousands of them. Doc and Felipe got out with four patients and half a dozen refugees."

"Thousands?" Alexis breathed in disbelief. "When? Was it a herd? Are they coming this way?

"Had to be a herd," Guillermo steered them around a large firepit with a spit and led the way to the barn. "Don't know if it's moving again or not, they got inside Benning's perimeter so they might not get out too fast. Concrete walls don't fall down too easy."

"A herd of thousands only twenty miles from here," Alexis' head spun with the implications. "The village couldn't hold off that many. We can barely handle a dozen..." she let the words trail off as they entered the barn, and slowed her pace for a moment as she spotted Merle's motorcycle - now Daryl's - parked just outside the stall it was normally parked in off to the left. It was spattered with mud that appeared moderately fresh, as if he'd taken out and driven through puddles. She hurried to catch up with Guillermo as he held the door to the side building open for her.

"Felipe is with her now," Guillermo said quietly. "She was asking for you, and the Doc said we should bring you soon. She doesn't think she'll make it through the night."

It took a few seconds for Alexis to organize her thoughts enough to remember that he was talking about Abuela. The attached office and storage building was busy with activity. The large crates were being hauled out and broken down for firewood, and the smaller ones fashioned into beds, tables, chairs... anything that was needed to make the place fit for living. Sitting on one such crate across the room was Daryl, half out of his shirt and holding his right arm out of the way as someone Alexis couldn't see from this angle treated the wound high up on his side. Alexis met his eyes and realized he'd been watching her since she came through the door. Momentarily torn between going straight to him or hurrying to Abuela's side, she stopped where she was and could do nothing but return his gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he saw her indecision, and he nodded towards the old woman's door with a frown. _I ain't dyin'_ she could almost hear him say.

"Right," Alexis said to herself, and hurried to catch up with Guillermo again. Abuela's room had once been a small office, and they'd pushed the cheap-metal desk against a wall since it was too wide to fit through the door. Someone had at some point brought a bed from the hospital, one of the wheeled ones used in the emergency room, and they had also gone to some trouble to make the room a little less dreary. Alexis glanced around, spotting framed photos, an antique dresser and colorful drapes, guessing that one or more houses in town may have been raided for this purpose.

"She should have been living in town," she said quietly. Miguel sat in a plush chair next to her bed, and Felipe leaned against the wall on her other side. Both looked up as Alexis spoke. "There's more than enough room for all of you there." She looked down at the old woman lying pale and still in her bed, and felt her chest constrict at the sight of her thin, sunken face. The room was cold and smelled of dampness, a musty deep smell that suggested the building itself was beginning to rot. Even with the window open, the air was thick and close.

"We're not welcome in town," Miguel spoke in a near-whisper.

"You're welcome," Alexis said firmly. "I don't give a _fuck_ what the town says, and Daryl wouldn't either. God _damn_ them..."

"Shh," Guillermo stood at her side and nudged her with an elbow. "It's not up to you, _mamacita_. Daryl told us to bring her to you... said it was stupid to have that big house for just two. But she wouldn't go unless we all went, and like Miguelito says... well, it's not our town."

"It's not right," Alexis said stubbornly, and moved forward to carefully perch on the edge of the old woman's bed. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, and Alexis noticed a rosary clutched in one hand.

"Do you think she'd want the preacher?" she glanced at Felipe. "I mean, he's not Catholic, but..."

"No," all three of them said together.

"She doesn't like him," said Miguel. Alexis nodded, her eyes on the old woman's face. Abuela was whispering something, and at first Alexis thought she might be praying, but when she leaned forward she realized she was repeating the same thing over and over again.

_"El diablo tiene planes para nosotros... El Engañador camina entre nosotros..."_

"The Devil has plans for us, the Deceiver walks among us," Felipe said. "She's been repeating it for the last hour. Doc gave her morphine, but she keeps saying it."

_"Angelita,_" Alexis blinked as Abuela's eyes opened and focused on her almost immediately. She forced a smile as gnarled fingers clutched at hers and squeezed with surprising force.

"I forgot to feed the dogs," she said, her voice thin and weak-sounding. "Miguel said he would do it, but he forgets sometimes too."

"The dogs are fine," Alexis said. "I'll check on them for you. But I'm sure they're fine."

_"El diablo tiene planes para nosotros..._You watch out for _El Diablo_, my Little Angel. You watch out and don't let him catch you."

"He won't catch me," Alexis couldn't think of anything else to say, but Abuela had already closed her eyes again, muttering the strange litany over and over again.

_"El diablo tiene planes para nosotros... El Engañador camina entre nosotros..."_

* * *

><p>Alexis left the room a short time later, feeling somewhat out of place when Felipe and Miguel began conversing back and forth in Spanish. They were cousins, and she was their grandmother. Alexis knew her presence was not unwanted, but she still felt that she did not belong at that moment and slipped out quietly to look for Daryl. She found him in the barn, wiping down the motorcycle with a towel torn in four pieces. He hadn't bothered to button his shirt back up, and since it was shredded and bloody on one side she figured it would be a cleaning rag itself soon enough.<p>

"You okay?" She asked, after he didn't notice her standing behind him for a few moments.

"Huh?" he looked around at her, then stood up and flinched slightly as the muscles in his side pulled. "Yeah, sure. A couple stitches. I've had worse."

"I know," she said dryly. "And I'll bet her stitches are straighter than mine. What the hell happened? How did walkers get through the wall?"

"Ain't a wall, it's a damned _fence_," he growled, and took hold of the handlebars to try to push the motorcycle back onto the stall. Alexis stepped around to the other side and pushed with him, and together they maneuvered it inside. "There was a gap, they musta broke through."

"You went somewhere," Alexis said. "Not in town, though. I'd have heard it."

"No," he said, leaning back against the stall door for a moment as if winded. "Route 85 runs along the other side of those trees. I went up towards Benning a bit yesterday."

"Are you crazy?" Alexis exclaimed. "A thousand strong herd and you went up there alone on a _motorcycle_? What the hell for?"

"Wanted to see if they were comin' this way," he said, looking at her evenly. "Why the hell do y'think?"

"You could have told me," she said, glancing around as if suddenly aware that they were in earshot of others.

"I didn't have a cell phone on me, princess. Sorry."

"Don't be an ass," she hissed. "That's kind of the point. If something happened to you, nobody would ever know. Remember what happened last time you went off alone?"

"I didn't go alone," he said. "And I didn't have time to run back to town and make sure it was okay with you first. Didn't know I _had_ to anyway."

"What is _with_ you?" she said. "I don't mind if you want to be an asshole, just make sure you have a damn good reason first."

"It's nothin," he said simply. He slammed the stall door shut before walking past her and out of the barn. She stood blinking in the sunlight streaming through the barn doors for a moment, then followed. He crossed the narrow dirt road, making his way through Tent City, then glanced back and stopped at the edge of the open field when he saw she was following him.

"You should go back to town, Lex. It's safer there."

"Safer?" she echoed. "Don't give me that, a little boy died right in the center of town today. Nowhere's safer."

"The house is safe," he said. "I checked it out. The doors are solid, the walls are strong..."

"Stop it," she said. "I'm not going back until you talk to me. What is the matter with you? Are you angry at me?"

"No," he said, but offered no other explanation.

"Well, I'm not going back. Abuela's dying. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, but it means something to _me._ If you don't want to be around me, then _you_ can go back yourself. I'm staying here."

"I don't want this for you," he said suddenly. "Sleepin' in a tent, on the ground. Freezin' your ass off and eatin' squirrel. I saw you in the woods, when you came huntin' with me. You hated it, and you were miserable."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She said. "I've slept in vehicles, on dirt floors, in upside-down campers and abandoned gas stations. Do you really think this place is worse?"

"You got a roof over your head here," he insisted. "A bed to sleep in, food, safety... it's not a bad place. You can fit in there, even if you don't go to their weird church. You got Grimes with you, Carol and Sophia...and whatshername... Hannah. You got friends. People who care about you."

"I don't understand," she said. "What are you saying? You're here too, you're as much a part of my life as they are."

"I ain't one of them," he shook his head. "Never will be."

"So... what?" She folded her arms, feeling a strange, unfamiliar sensation starting to churn around in her gut. "Are you_ leaving_? You want me to go back and live in that ridiculous house by myself because you think _what_ exactly? It's the best thing for both of us? The right thing to do?"

"I ain't leavin," he said quietly. His expression had slipped from defensive to unsure in the space of a few seconds. "But everybody seems happy here. I ain't gettin' in the way of that."

"Jesus, Daryl... do you really think you're getting in the way of me or anyone else being _happy?_ Somehow I think _happiness_ is a bit lower on the priority scale than it used to be."

"Okay," he was chewing on a long blade of dried grass and studying her thoughtfully. "Follow me, then. There's something you have to see."

* * *

><p>"Let me get this straight," Rick stood with his arms folded, frowning as he struggled to absorb everything Mikel Wilcox had just told him. "These men... the town guards, they aren't military, National Guard and never were any sort of law enforcement at all?"<p>

They had returned to the church together after overseeing the disposal of the walker bodies and ensuring the gap in the fence was closed up. The townspeople had all returned home for the most part, leaving Rick and Mikel free to have a private chat in the church.

"No," Mikel sighed and sat down wearily in the front pew. "We had five National Guardsmen here in town for a spell. I don't know anything about ranks. They were trouble, Rick. They bullied the refugees and took whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. Gavin was the worst. Major Gene Gavin." Mikel closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment as if trying to erase a bad memory.

"I won't share the unpleasant details, but one night he and his partners in crime raped a local woman. They made no secret of it and showed no remorse. The townspeople and I decided he and his men had to go. They were drunk and easy to overpower, but three of them escaped and ran, Gavin was one of them. We never saw him again."

"And you hanged the other two," Rick said, nodding. "I've heard this part of the story. So, what then? You put the uniforms on civilians, put guns in their hands and told them to keep the peace?"

"More or less," Mikel nodded. "They were told to never fire those weapons unless it was absolutely necessary. We rely on God's protection here, it is by his will alone that we are alive and safe..."

"You aren't _safe,_" Rick said, exasperation clear in his voice. "If anything, I'd say you're _lucky_. By accident or design, there are fewer walkers here than in other towns we've seen, that much is true. But you've armed people with no weapons training or experience with some pretty hefty firepower. I'm amazed nobody else has been killed yet."

"I'm not amazed at all," Mikel smiled at Rick in the maddening, self-assured way that was really starting to get on his nerves. "But I think perhaps you are right about their lack of experience making them dangerous. I also think you want this place to live up to your own expectations of safe, which I'm willing to indulge for now. What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing so drastic that it can't be done," Rick sat down on the steps up to the altar and rested both arms on his knees. "I was a police officer. Let me take on the role of peacekeeper. Your laws here are very simple and straightforward, you don't need me or anyone else to play sheriff. But we've fought the undead and survived... let me and my people show yours how."

"My people are not fighters," Mikel said firmly. "We are here to do God's will first and foremost, it's important that you understand that."

"I do," Rick nodded.

"I also happen to think that we can't do God's will if we're dead. I accept your offer, as long as we have one simple but very important understanding."

"What's that?" Rick asked warily.

"I will defer to you for matters of physical safety and defense of this town and its people," said the preacher. "But matters of the spirit are for me to decide, and you will not interfere with our beliefs and practices."

Rick chewed his words over carefully, wondering just how steep and slippery this slope might be. Mikel's expression was firm, and his eyes bright and focused. Upon first arriving in town, Rick had thought him fanatical and irrational, but hearing the man speak now he saw only devotion - a very strong devotion - and a will to survive. After a moment of deliberation, he nodded and extended his hand to Mikel.

"I think we have an understanding," he said, and Mikel smiled as the two men shook hands firmly.

* * *

><p>Daryl and Alexis stood on a hill, overlooking the riverbank just where the partially-finished wall ended. The workers had finished for the day, as night work was still moderately dangerous even though more than half the town was now enclosed. Daryl fished a folded piece of a map out of his pocket and showed Alexis the sketched plans for the wall, tracing the projected path with one finger and then pointing it out to her on the ground below.<p>

"It's supposed to run right through that small patch of trees there," he said. "They'll cut those down instead of going around. When its' finished it will run straight as the crow flies, cutting off the empty neighborhoods here and here and the bridge there."

"The bridge," she repeated. "They're building the wall along the river, and cutting off everyone and everything on this side."

"The town has its own wells," he said. "They don't need the river unless they want fish, and they're already stocking man-made ponds and damming the river upstream to make the streams in town rise higher."

"The River camp is exiled," she said numbly.

"Not exiled _exactly_," Daryl shrugged. "Just not wanted."

So once the wall is finished, everyone on the outside..."

"Shit outta luck," Daryl finished for her.

"So you wanted me to go back there and live inside a wall with a bunch of self-righteous pricks who think their own lives are more important than those who don't fit their definition of acceptable?"

"No... I wanted you to be _safe_. It's safer in there than it will be out here."

"Daryl," Alexis sighed and turned to look at him, but her eyes flickered past him as movement caught her attention.

"Daryl?" a woman with spiky-blonde hair had approached from behind, and Daryl turned immediately to face her. She was holding a baseball bat in one hand, and Alexis noticed a colorful tattoo ran the length of her rather well-toned arm. She had a scar on the right side of her face. Long and harsh-looking, it ran from just above her eyebrow down to the corner of her mouth. Alexis frowned as she stepped closer, the bat raised as she peered closer at them.

"Oh," she said after a moment. "Sorry, I thought you were alone. Here," she lowered the bat and took the .38 revolver she had tucked in the waistband of her too-tight black jeans and handed it to him.

"Thanks for the loan, and for the ride. It's been way too long."

Daryl took the gun and nodded, then glanced at Alexis and cleared his throat.

"This is Mara," he said. "She lives in the camp with her brothers."

"You're Alexis," Mara gave her a crooked smile that she supposed others found charming.

"Ride?" Alexis asked Daryl.

"I told you I didn't go alone yesterday," Daryl said. Alexis studied him for a moment, then looked at Mara.

"We've been out scouting around a few times," Mara said. "I was hoping I'd get to meet you soon. He didn't do you justice, you know. You're a lot prettier than he let on. I gotta get back. See you both later, yeah?"

"Yeah," said Daryl, and watched her as she walked away up the hill. When he turned back to Alexis he almost took a step back to avoid the fire smoldering behind her eyes.

"Safe," she said, and he almost flinched at the harshness of her tone. "I see. Well, fuck _safe_. Fuck this town, and fuck _you_. How dare you stand there and think that you can just push me behind a wall and say its for my own good?"

"Lex - "

"Don't," she said. "Don't say anything. I just want to be mad at you for awhile. Scouting around? I'm guessing _that_'s why I've been sleeping alone so much lately."

"It ain't like that," he said angrily, but she was already walking away, following the path Mara had taken back towards the camp. He immediately started after her and tried to catch hold of her wrist, but she waved him away.

"I'll be with Abuela and the boys tonight," she said. "Maybe tomorrow if you want to explain why you take _her_ with you on road trips instead of me, I might be willing to listen. Just remember I'm armed."

She picked up her pace and hurried back to the camp, resolved not to speak to him again tonight. That unfamiliar feeling that had started brewing deep in her gut earlier was boiling now, twisting into something dark and ugly. _Jealousy._ She'd never in her life been jealous of anyone, and the sensation scared her on a primal level. She wanted to scream, punch him in the face and then go after _her_. Mara. Her name was Mara. He'd never spoken of her, never mentioned these scouting trips or even bothered to tell her what he was doing up here when she was back home alone playing farmer in her ridiculous garden in the back yard of her ridiculous house... why not? Sure he probably has a reasonable explanation, why wouldn't he? _I just don't want to fucking hear it right now._

The heard voices around her as she walked through the tents towards the barn. Someone said her name but she ignored it and wiped tears from her face before anyone saw. When she arrived back at Abuela's room, Doctor Janice Stevens was there. She pressed a stethoscope against her chest and listened for a few moments, then straightened up and draped it around her neck with a serious expression. Guillermo stood in the corner next to the door, and Alexis felt him looking at her as she entered. Felipe and Miguel stood on either side of the bed, and when Stevens spoke she addressed them both without looking at them.

"Won't be long now," she said. "If any of you have anything to say to her, now is the time."

Alexis was almost ashamed to admit to herself that she could more easily blame her tears on Abuela's pending death. But Guillermo was looking at her with a knowing expression, and as the doctor moved past them both to leave the room, she shook her head at him in an _I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it_ gesture. As she moved to stand next to Miguel, Guillermo started to close the door. Just before it closed he saw Daryl sitting on the floor just outside, his back against the wall, waiting.

Abuela passed quietly in her sleep just before the sun rose.

While the Kindred townspeople rose for morning prayers and ate their breakfast, Daryl Dixon quickly and quietly fired a single crossbow bolt into an old woman's head as her grandsons turned their faces away. Alexis had left the room as soon as he entered and waited outside until the unpleasant deed was done. They dug a grave for her in the field across from the barn, because she had often commented that she liked the yellow flowers that bloomed there. In the kindred church graveyard, a young boy named Aaron was laid to rest as his family watched, praying through their tears and wishing for answers from on high. As Abuela was gently laid in her grave, the Kindred townsfolk busied themselves with farming, milking cows, educating their children and building the wall. Doctor Stevens paused in her work to attend the spontaneous funeral for a woman she'd only met once before. She stood at a distance, watching with an expression as stony and unreadable as always. The other residents of the camp gathered as well, although few of them even knew who she was.

Back in Kindred, Rick Grimes met with the appointed town guards and spoke to them all in turn to organize the town's defenses into something tighter and more functional. Carl and Sophia attended school with one less classmate. Lori and Carol lugged laundry to the river for washing, and Andrea joined them for conversation. Dale stood and looked across towards the big red barn, wondering what the others were up to, just as Miguel dropped the first shovel of dirt onto Abuela's body, shrouded in a white sheet with tiny blue flowers. Alexis knew Daryl was standing nearby, she could feel his eyes on her and knew he'd been watching her the whole time. But it was Guillermo's hand that slipped into hers as she stood over Abuela's grave, and she held on tightly until it was filled in and the mound packed firm and smooth.

Everyone else drifted away as she helped Miguel and Felipe pile stones over the grave. Glenn helped find more stones to fill in the gaps, and Daryl lingered far enough away so Alexis wouldn't object to his presence, but close enough that she could still see that he was there. Once she saw Mara approach him, but whatever he said made her walk away immediately.

"I'm going back to town," she said to Glenn after they had finished, and stood wiping sweat from their faces in silence. "Get our stuff from the house and bring it here. I can't stay there anymore."

"Daryl told you about the wall?" Glenn asked, and she nodded.

"We should tell the others," she said. "But Rick and Lori will probably want to stay, with the baby coming and all. Carol too, she's got Sophia to think about."

"Maybe," said Glenn. "I'll go with you. Dale can bring the RV up here if he wants." He saw her looking past him and turned around in time to see Daryl walking away, but when he turned back to Alexis she was already heading towards the road.

"You coming?" She called, and he had to run to catch up with her.

* * *

><p>It was just starting to rain a couple hours later when Daryl looked up from where he sat on a rock overlooking the highway beyond, spotting the always-familiar RV as it made its way towards the camp. It was too wide to drive across the narrow bridge from town, so Dale had apparently driven it out right through the front gate, making his departure known to all. Daryl stood up and jumped down from the rock, heading towards the road so he could wave Dale towards the fork and not miss the camp. He pointed out the road and then followed the RV up to the barn and stood back as Dale parked it next to the barn. Glenn came out the rear door, Alexis right behind him, and Andrea stepped out of the passenger side. Alexis was carrying both hers and Daryl's packs, as well as a duffel bag stuffed full with everything they owned between them.<p>

She stood still for a moment when she saw him there, then hauled everything towards him and dropped it all on the ground in a heap. The rain fell softly but steadily on them both, but she didn't seem to notice as she stood frowning thoughtfully at the ground.

"I stopped by the church and told the preacher we were leaving," she said. "Also told him you and me were living in sin the whole time. Gave him a piece of my mind about the wall, too."

"Bet you did," Daryl said quietly, then pushed at the duffel with his foot. "What's all that?"

"I stole all the blankets," she said. "The pillows and towels, too. Preacher says I'm going to Hell anyway."

"I'll see you there," said Daryl. "Lex, listen..." he stopped as she shook her head and looked away from him, shouldering her bag. He felt his temper starting to rise and gritted his teeth to push it back down. He'd been sitting on his own slow-boiling anger all day, and now here she was dumping his stuff on the ground in front of him and acting like her whole world had fallen apart.

"I'm sorry the old lady died. And I'm sorry I left you alone. But it wasn't because I was fuckin' someone else, if that's what you're thinkin," he said. She looked at him sharply and he bit back the rest of his words. She returned his gaze steadily, then nodded and looked away.

"I believe you," she said. "I just don't understand what happened since we got here. We're in this mess together, aren't we?"

"I thought you'd want to stay," he said. "You deserve better than this." _Better than me. _

"Mara?" she asked. Daryl glanced over at the barn, where she happened to be sitting on a crate, dangling her boot-clad feet off the ground while she chatted with a man who was standing with his back to them.

"She'd sooner hit on you than me," he smirked. "If you'd bothered to let me explain, I coulda told you she bats for the other team. She was a biker before all this, rode with her brothers. She's tough and she can ride and she knows the area better than any of us. It made sense."

"So what did you find?" she asked quietly, looking at the ground. "Anything interesting?"

"Yeah," he said. "Two things. First was a white cube van, turned on its side in a ditch. It had red letters on the side that said _Ferenc Builders_. Sound familiar?"

"Merle," she said, looking up at him with a shocked expression. "Was he in there?"

"No," he said. "Lots of blood in the cab. Long dried up. If he was alive after the thing wrecked, I'm not sure how he'd survive."

"Where?" she set her pack down, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and concern.

"Just a few miles outside Fort Benning," he said. "He knew we'd talked about going there. Maybe that's where he was heading... I dunno."

"You think he was trying to find us?" she asked, but Daryl only shrugged. "Okay. So what was the second thing?"

"I found your brother." he watched as her face registered surprise, then confusion, then anger.

"Which one?" she finally asked. He smiled at her sarcasm and nodded at something behind her.

"That one, smartass."

She turned around and saw that the man who had been talking to Mara was now looking at them both. _Kyle._ He had a fresh bandage on his forehead and was dressed in civilian clothes, jeans, T-shirts and work boots for the first time since she'd first met him. She stood still, her mouth hanging open as he cautiously approached, both hands in his pockets, and stopped just under ten feet away from her.

"Hi," he said.

Alexis didn't reply, just stood looking back at him for an uncomfortably long time. Then she turned and looked at Daryl, and he cursed inwardly when he saw the anger had returned to her eyes. Kyle stepped out of her way as she shouldered her pack, picked up the duffel bag and headed straight for the barn.

"You should have left him wherever you found him," she said over her shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Pretenders, _Windows of the World_


	28. Colony

_Oh, a storm is threat'ning_  
><em>My very life today<em>  
><em>If I don't get some shelter<em>  
><em>Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away<em>

_War, children, it's just a shot away_  
><em>It's just a shot away<em>  
><em>War, children, it's just a shot away<em>  
><em>It's just a shot away<em>

_Oh, see the fire is sweepin'_  
><em>Our very street today<em>  
><em>Burns like a red coal carpet<em>  
><em>Mad bull lost its way<em>

_War, children, it's just a shot away_  
><em>It's just a shot away<em>  
><em>War, children, it's just a shot away<em>  
><em>It's just a shot away<em>

_Oh, the floods is threat'ning_  
><em>My very life today<em>  
><em>Gimme, gimme shelter<em>  
><em>Or I'm gonna fade away<em>

_War, children, it's just a shot away_  
><em>It's just a shot away<em>  
><em>I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away<em>  
><em>It's just a kiss away...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Colony<strong>

Daryl glanced sideways as Alexis appeared in the doorway of the barn. Disheveled and wrinkled, she looked every bit the part of someone who had spent the night in a hayloft, for a very good reason. Three days had passed since Abuela died, and while she didn't exactly ignore him, she'd stubbornly avoided him as much as she could. Her reaction to him being distant both surprised and confused him. He couldn't decide if she was punishing him for pulling a brief vanishing act on her, or she was pissed about Kyle being present in the camp. Maybe both. Either way, he wasn't used to pissed-off women being so quiet. Where he came from, they tended to scream, scratch and throw empty bottles at his head.

Kyle had clearly picked up on the same signals and wisely kept his distance. He went into town and met with Rick, and whatever the two discussed had ended with Kyle agreeing to help him train the town guards, but he wanted no part in security other than that. The discovery that the wall was intended to divide the area in half and weed out the undesirables had bothered Rick enormously. But he vowed to fix the problem rather than run from it, something that made Daryl want to beat his head against a wall in frustration. _Fuckin' Grimes. Always trying to fix things that maybe can't be fixed._

The group was divided, but Daryl didn't see this as a particular crisis just yet. Rick, Lori and Carol seemed determined to make town life work, and given the fact that they had children and another Grimes on the way, nobody could completely blame them. Alexis and Daryl had both been officially banished from Kindred, and it didn't occur to either of them to feel badly about it. The river camp had grown somewhat tighter since the arrival of Doctor Stevens and the few survivors from Fort Benning. Despite her aloof attitude and standoffish behavior, she'd become a valuable commodity, being the only medical professional other than Felipe, who had been a nurse back in Atlanta. The preacher had issued a formal invitation for her to come and live in town upon learning of the _unfortunate and sad_ events at Fort Benning, but she'd flatly refused without offering up any explanation.

Mara Mason and her brothers Rennie and Jake, none of which being the names they were born with, brought an element of chaos to the camp. Loud, boisterous, foul-mouthed and on occasion hilariously drunk, their upbringing matched Daryl's and then some, and he was somewhat surprised that he hadn't known them before when he learned that their family business included the production of illegal substances for mass distribution. He wondered if Merle had ever dealt with them during his Meth days. If he had, they didn't remember him. Besides, the name Dixon was about as popular as could be in the deep South. Daryl had to grudgingly admit he'd liked Mara immediately for her fearless attitude, although his liking was not to the extent that Alexis had assumed. Besides, she preferred women, something she had made clear to him the moment they were introduced. _Hey, the name's Mara and I don't like dick, so keep it in your pants, hoss._

As Alexis stood in the doorway of the barn now, looking across the field towards the medical tent, Daryl couldn't help but feel a stab of sympathy for her. Her face looked pale and drawn from lack of sleep, and her hair was perpetually a mess since leaving the comforts of a home with an indoor bathroom. Whatever demons she'd been wrestling with lately had taken their toll on her, and it made him grind his teeth in anger. Arming herself had become part of the daily dressing routine, and he watched without comment as she dropped her boots on the ground in front of her, standing barefoot as she buckled the leg straps of her weapon holster to her right leg.

"Still mad?"He finally ventured when her eyes roamed across the camp and turned to see him sitting there quietly.

"Don't," she said, and rubbed her eyes as the bright morning sun stung them with its brightness. "I'm armed and I still miss bagels and coffee."

"Coffee we got," Daryl nodded towards the campfire, where Kyle was kneeling with his back to them, stirring something in a pot. Alexis stared at the back of his head for a few moments, then turned to face Daryl. He was sitting on an upside down plastic milk crate with the crossbow propped up against the wall of the barn and every bolt he owned piled on the ground in front of him. He was inspecting each one carefully, looking for stress cracks in the shafts, blunt tips and other signs of wear, then sorting them into two piles, useable and kindling.

"He didn't just arrive after Abuela's funeral," Alexis said, not asking a question. He looked up at her, then at Kyle before turning his attention back to the bolt in his hands.

"Nope," he shook his head and tossed the bolt into the _useable_ pile. "Two days before. After we found Merle's van we pushed into the woods aways to see if maybe he dragged 'imself off the road. Nothin' there, not even a trail. We went further up the road a bit and found Kyle on foot, just comin' out of Benning."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Alexis kicked over another milk crate and sat in front of him, positioning herself so he would have to turn his head if he wanted to lok away, which he did. "I know I'm not your _wife_, but you can't just shut me out for no reason and expect me not to notice. That's not how it works."

"How _what_ works?" Daryl looked at her with a flash of anger in his eyes, then turned his attention back to the bolts. "Don't know how things _work_, all I know is the world went to shit and you and me are knee-deep in it right along with everybody else. From day one since I met you we've been tryin' to find somewhere safe but we always end up runnin' again. It's gettin' so I don't think I can sit still anywhere."

"Then _don't_ sit still," Alexis exclaimed. "Go hunt, scout, do guy stuff in the woods... whatever it takes. Just don't _disappear_ on me. I hate it when people do that."

"Don't know if I can stay here," he said quietly. "Keep havin' dreams about Merle... like he's out there somewhere still, maybe..." He stopped talking and tossed the last of the bolts into a pile with an angry gesture.

_Maybe one of those things, walking around out there without a soul_... Alexis let out a long breath as she remembered her own thoughts about Peter, which of course segued into remembering that Kyle was back. She glanced over at him again, and caught him looking back for a moment before he looked away. She realized he was sitting in full earshot, and even if he didn't mean to eavesdrop he was hearing every word they said. She reached for one of her boots and thrust her foot inside, pausing to tug at the hole in her sock that exposed her little toe and promised a painful blister very soon.

"You want to go look for him," Alexis said. "Is that what this is about? You want to go find your brother?" Daryl frowned at the ground for a moment, then shook his head.

"Yeah. And no. 'Cause either way, if he's alive or dead I'm gonna end up havin' to put one between his eyes."

"All right...listen, guys... he's alive," Kyle spoke up suddenly. Alexis and Daryl both turned to look at him as he stood up and walked towards them slowly. Daryl glared at him as suspiciously as ever as Kyle handed Alexis a cup of the mud-black coffee he'd made over the fire. She looked at the cup without touching it for a moment, then took it without a word.

"I wasn't going to say anything, considering what this asshole did last time he was around," Kyle explained.

"Maybe you'd best speak up now, before I kick your teeth in," Daryl said bluntly. Kyle regarded him steadily as he joined them on a third overturned milk crate.

"Think about that before you try to throw down with me, tough guy," said Kyle. "Maybe you got plenty of reason to not trust me, but I'm _done_ taking your shit."

"Stop it," said Alexis. "Both of you. Kyle, tell us what you know about Merle. Please."

"Not much," he said, pulling his glare away from Daryl to look at her. "I found that truck three days ago, right before you did I guess. It was empty, but lots of blood on the inside like you said. Rick described it to me back when he had Daryl, I knew it was him right off. Found him walking about five miles up the road. He took a few shots at me when I pulled over and ran off into the woods. Not sure he even knew who I was. He looked pretty bad... I know I winged him back in Harmony."

"Why do you think he's still alive, then?" Alexis frowned. "If he was in a bad way he couldn't get far on foot."

"I tracked him through the woods for a bit," Kyle continued. "I figured if he was alive he'd keep trying to find you guys and start more trouble. If he died, he'd need to be put down for good. Can't imagine it would be fun for anyone if he turned up a walker. Didn't catch up with him, though. Lost his trail and couldn't pick it up again."

"So he just disappeared?" Alexis echoed. "Just like that?" Kyle shrugged, and Daryl rested his elbows on his knees, frowning hard at the ground.

"The woods ran for about a mile to a road on the other side. He could have been hiding, just not wantin' to take me on in that state. So I went back to the Jeep and headed for Benning. When I got there the place was completely overrun. I almost drove right into the middle of the biggest fucking herd I've seen yet... had to run for it after they swarmed the Jeep."

"We found him up a tree," said Daryl, and smirked slightly as if glad to share that little bit of information.

"A tree?" Alexis raised an eyebrow, and Kyle shrugged.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Treed like a goddamned cat. Glad walkers can't climb, but they don't go away easily. Two days I sat up there listening to them bitch and moan because they couldn't reach me. Didn't dare shoot at 'em cause I knew it would draw more. Shots fired from the North got their attention, they wandered off. Daryl and the biker babe came along shortly after." Daryl glared at him for the _biker babe_ comment and glanced at Alexis, but her face was conveniently turned away at that moment so he couldn't read her expression.

She sat quietly as Kyle and Daryl both looked at her, then at each other, then away at various points around the camp. She could almost hear Daryl's thoughts spinning out of control, and sense his rising anger. _Why couldn't Merle have just died quietly... just fall asleep somewhere and not wake up?_

"If you want to go look for Merle," she finally said. "I'm coming with you. If Biker Babe wants to come too, I don't care. but you're not leaving me here this time."

"No," said Kyle and Daryl at the same time. She glared at them both, but Daryl shook his head.

"I ain't goin' to look for him," he said. "Not now anyway. He don't know where we are, and that's probably best." He bent and gathered up all the bolts, kicking the broken ones toward the fire pit and reached for his crossbow.

"You don't have to sleep in the barn," he said to Alexis as he slung the crossbow over his shoulder. "Blue dome tent over by that shed is where I been sleepin.' _I'll_ sleep in the barn if you still wanna be mad at me."

The look she gave him was not completely friendly, but not entirely angry, either. He gave her the smallest of winks as he walked away, heading in the direction of the RV.

"You sure know how to pick 'em," Kyle commented. Alexis turned to give him the nastiest tongue-lashing she could muster, but caught the smirk he hid behind the cup as he swallowed the last of his coffee.

"You don't get to play big brother just yet," she snapped. "And you certainly don't get to judge me for who I choose to spend time with."

"That's not a _choice_, Lex... it's a lack of options. I'm not _judging_ you, I just think you're better than that."

"It's none of your goddamned business," she almost shouted. "I don't know why the hell you're still here, but if you're staying you need to get one thing through your head. Daryl is my _choice_. By circumstance or chance, it doesn't matter."

"He saved your life," Kyle said. "I get it."

"Don't give me that," she interrupted him. "Lots of people have saved my life since this whole thing started..." she broke off as the radio on Kyle's belt suddenly crackled to life, and Rick's voice came across the short distance from town. Kyle pulled it loose and turned up the volume, and Alexis leaned forward to listen with him, the argument already almost forgotten.

* * *

><p>"Yeah, I know," T-Dog straightened up and rested the pickaxe he was holding against the pile of lumber, neatly stacked and ready for use in the building of the defensive wall. Daryl was leaning on the same pile languidly, clearly having no intention of helping to build the wall today. T-Dog picked up the canteen of water he kept stashed in the shade while he worked, and took a long pull from it.<p>

"You know?" Daryl echoed. "You know yer helpin' build a wall that's going to cut you out of the town it's protecting? That don't make no sense."

"Come on, man," T-Dog laughed. "The whole damn world don't make sense. You want me to make a sign? Maybe help Dale organize a protest?"

"Don't care what you do," Daryl shrugged. "But I ain't helpin' build it no more."

"That's all well and good," T-Dog said. "You feed the camp with what you bring back from hunts, that's your part. I build the wall because I know it will keep people safe. There's kids in there, you know. It ain't their fault the world's gone to Hell. Even so... I heard they were voting on whether to allow us workers to live in town as payment for our efforts," T-Dog said, and laughed. "_Voting._ Seriously, man... these people are not the kind of neighbors I want. But that don't mean I want them dead, either."

"Whatever," Daryl said distantly, shading his eyes to watch as Alexis and Kyle crossed the bridge. T-Dog followed his gaze and watched as they argued with the single guard standing there for a moment before he let them pass. Daryl turned as T-Dog chuckled as if some joke had just been told.

"Damn," he said. "She really didn't score any points with the preacher and his wife. To hear that stuck-up bitch tell it, she's the town Jezebel now."

"Really," Daryl said thoughtfully. He chewed his lower lip for a moment, watching as the guard waited until Alexis and Kyle were out of earshot, then speaking into the walkie-talkie he took from his belt.

"Well, she ain't one to worry much about what other people think," he said finally. "Especially if there's a church involved."

"Church don't make 'em bad people," said T-Dog. "They're just too... I don't know... sheltered."

"They're assholes," Daryl said flatly. "I'm headin' in to make sure they don't burn her or somethin."

"Give a shout if someone lights a match," T-Dog said as he moved off towards the bridge.

* * *

><p>Rick Grimes stood on the steps of the tiny building once used as a constable's station, watching as Kyle and Alexis walked right up the center of the wide dirt road leading into town. A flurry of activity came from the church on their right, and Rick shook his head as several people stepped outside, gaped at them both, then hurried back in.<p>

"I forgot to tell you. New arrivals are supposed to come in through the front gate," Rick said to Kyle as the pair approached. "Word's gotten out that people are coming in from across the river."

"Yeah," said Kyle. "And they're also supposed to sit through quarantine for awhile if I remember correctly. Paranoid bullshit if you ask me."

"What's up?" Alexis asked as they drew near and Rick came down the steps.

"Among other things, a missing person," said Rick, glancing towards the church as several people exited and came down the steps. "Hannah Wilcox didn't come home evening prayers last night. I've brought her home myself a few times, she seems to have a problem remembering to get back indoors after dark."

"Who's Hannah?" Kyle asked.

"Preacher's daughter," said Alexis. "And trouble with a capital T. Maybe she ran away. Her mother isn't exactly June Cleaver if you know what I mean."

"Maybe," said Rick. "But we need to get a search going in the woods, and if she wants to not be found she won't come to us. But she'd come to you or Daryl, I'm pretty sure of that."

"Okay," Alexis sighed. "I'll have to go back and get Daryl, though. I'll get Miguel to look around the camp, maybe she's there somewhere."

"Dammit," Rick sighed and looked up at a lone figure approaching them from the church. "You two head inside, I'll be right in. Alexis gave Kyle a push, and he saluted Rick with a smirk as they climbed the steps to the door. Old Josiah Wilcox sat in an old fashioned porch rocker, looking as if he was enjoying a good television show or movie. He grinned at Alexis with teeth blackened from years of a bad habit and spit a thin line of tobacco over the railing on his left as they headed inside the tiny office building.

"That woman is not welcome here," Marion Wilcox's voice was harsh and carried across the square to anyone who happened to be passing by. "And who is that man? He didn't come through the gate, where is his quarantine pass?"

Inside, Alexis and Kyle stood in the small one-room building that somehow had once managed to be a law enforcement building. It had one tiny jail cell in the corner, so small Alexis doubted anyone taller than herself would be able to do sleep inside. A single desk stood in front of the only window, through which the preacher's loud, strident voice could be heard. In the middle of the room stood a large wooden crate that hadn't been there when Kyle had come by previously. He lifted the lid cautiously and peered inside, then chuckled and shook his head.

"Did he disarm all the guards?" he asked quietly.

"They can't shoot anyway," Lex said, she was leaning over the desk with both hands planted on it to balance herself so she could look out the window. "Quiet, I want to hear what this bitch is ranting about."

"I don't _care_ if they are with you," Marion was saying loudly. "He hasn't been cleared, and that woman is not supposed to be in this town!"

"Mrs. Wilcox," Rick was using his best patient-policeman voice, but anyone who knew him could hear the edge behind it. "Your husband agreed to leave all matters regarding town safety to me..."

"My husband banished that _whore_ from our town," she interrupted, and Kyle looked up from his inspection of the weapon stash in surprise and came over to look out the window with her.

"Jesus, Lex. What did you do?"

"I had extramarital sex with Daryl," she replied, and Kyle blinked.

"Did you do it in public or something?"

"Shut up," she bit back the laugh that almost escaped. "I'll explain later."

"The laws of God are above those of men," Marion was seething now. "Mikel swore you wouldn't interfere with our beliefs. That woman misrepresented herself, she flaunted her sinful relations in front of my _daughter -_ "

"You had sex with Daryl in front of her daughter?" Kyle asked. Lex snorted and shushed him again.

"In older days she'd have been branded for her crime and made to spend time in - " Marion shrieked.

"Jumpin' Jee-zus on a pogo stick," Josiah suddenly bellowed. "Don't you ever shut up, woman? Seems to me I can remember a time when you couldn't keep yer legs shut fer more than a day!"

"Oh, boy," said Kyle.

"Don't you speak to me like that, Josiah Wilcox! There's a reason Hannah's not allowed to visit you anymore! And you Mr. Grimes, you're supposed to be looking for my daughter, aren't you? Isn't that part of your job?"

"All right, that's enough," Rick sounded like his patience was just about gone, and it wasn't even noon yet. "Josiah, I'll handle this. Mrs. Wilcox, go home. Now. I'm sure Alexis is looking forward to leaving town as soon as we find Hannah. Until then, I'll ask you to please stay away from her."

"The sooner that wall is finished, the better off we will all be," Marion fumed. Alexis straightened up and folded her arms, watching as Marion Wilcox stormed away. Several townspeople who had gathered followed her, all of them casting dark looks at Rick as they drifted away. Rick sighed so loudly Alexis could hear him through the glass.

"That wasn't helpful," he said to Josiah.

"Mebbe not," the old man sat back down in his rocking chair with a satisfied air. "But it felt damn good. Watch it, here comes the other half."

Rick looked towards the church and spotted the preacher coming around the side of the building, walking towards them with a strange hurry to his normally relaxed stride. As Rick watched, several more men came out from behind the church behind him, and Rick counted seven of them, at least two were guards he'd disarmed and relieved from duty recently. He turned around and climbed the three steps to the door quickly, and Alexis stepped away from the window to stand near the far wall as he came in as he closed the door behind him.

"You two have just been deputized," He said, and looked at Kyle meaningfully. "Grab a weapon, but remember they're unarmed. Unless you count pitchforks."

"Yessir, boss," Kyle had already helped himself to one of the shotguns from the crate. Alexis was wearing her favored weapons as always, holstered sidearm and machete despite the town's aversion to armed females walking in their midst.

"Leave the machete," he said to her, and she nodded at him wordlessly as she removed the blade and sheath from her belt and stood both up against the bars of the holding cell.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked him. "Deputizing me? I can' t imagine any of them will listen to a word I have to say."

"Probably not," said Rick, and turned to open the door. "Which is why I'm going to do the talking."

"I hate this fucking town," Alexis grumbled as she followed Rick and Kyle outside to face the grim-faced townspeople.

"She needs to leave," Mikel Wilcox said immediately as Rick faced the group. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it is, Rick. We had an agreement."

"Yes we did," said Rick. "And part of our agreement was that you'd leave all matters of town safety to me. We've had experience dealing with the walkers, and you have not. That makes it my decision."

Alexis returned the Preacher's gaze steadily, surprised to not see a single hint of malice or anger. Instead he looked almost... afraid. _Is he afraid of me?_ she wondered. _What in the world did I do to frighten him?_

"We'll discuss it later," Mikel said. "Right now I just want to find my daughter. These men have volunteered to help."

"All right," Rick nodded, relief clear in his voice. "Alexis is going back to the river camp to rally more help. She'll have the camp searched to make sure Hannah didn't go there." Alexis nodded in agreement as Mikel's eyes flicked back to hers, then started down the steps to do exactly that.

* * *

><p>"Wow," Glenn breathed out loud as he peered through the binoculars. "Dude, there must be at least a hundred of them still in there."<p>

He was standing on the roof of the Cherokee wagon they'd borrowed from Guillermo to scout up around Fort Benning at Rick's request to make sure the herd was not coming towards them. He focused the binoculars on the main gate, counting until he couldn't anymore the number of walkers shambling around just inside the gate.

"I'm not a _dude,_" Andrea replied, looking up at him from where she stood watching the woods around them. "What are they doing? Do they look like they're going anywhere?"

"No," Glenn adjusted the binoculars to zoom in closer. "They're just kind of bumping into each other and wandering in circles. With all the barriers, they might be kind of stuck in there. I think we could be okay."

"I don't," Andrea shook her head as Glenn lowered the binoculars and looked down at her. "Kyle said there were thousands of them. Thousands, Glenn. If there's only a hundred in there now, where did the rest go?"

"I dunno," Glenn shrugged. "Greener pastures? They must have headed North, there was a main exit off the base that way. We haven't seen more than ten or twelve in the last few weeks."

"So what?" she said. "There's a walker party somewhere that we don't know about?"

"Family reunion," Glenn nodded.

"Or a convention," she smirked. "Enough jokes. I want to head around and check the other side of the base. If they went South instead of North and come straight down 85 they could be in Kindred in a couple days."

"I'll drive," said Glenn, and hopped down onto the ground next to the driver's side.

"This boat smells like fish," Andrea commented as they closed the doors behind them and Glenn started the engine.

"Guillermo said it used to be a delivery vehicle," said Glenn. "Some seafood restaurant in Atlanta. It's always smelled like fish."

"Why do they use it?" She shook her head.

"Because it runs," Glenn shrugged, and slowed down to maneuver around a few abandoned cars in the road. "You got that map? There should be a turnoff up ahead."

"Yeah," Andrea pulled the map from the visor over her head and unfolded it, running her finger along the route until she found the turn. "There, it's about a half a mile from the - _Glenn!"_ She had to drop the map to brace herself against the dash as Glenn suddenly stomped on the brakes with both feet and the wagon fishtailed to a tire-squealing stop.

"Holy shit," he breathed, hearing his voice crack slightly on the last syllable. Andrea stared wide-eyed through the windshield for a moment, trying to comprehend what they were seeing.

The Cherokee had come to a stop at the crest of a hill, and they were now looking down at a wide expanse of highway, dotted with abandoned cars and several overturned trucks. At least Andrea thought those might be cars and overturned trucks, judging from the glint of sunlight reflecting off the metal that occasionally peeped through the thick, milling expanse of walkers that coated the entire area for as far as the eye could see. Andrea was reminded of a swarm of ants she'd once seen, a massive colony that had established residence under her grandmother's porch. She looked further North, along the highway to the horizon, and saw that the ground itself seemed to move from the sheer number of dead bodies walking, swaying, lurching... and coming right towards them. Hundreds. _Thousands._ And with the advancing horde came a steady rising hum, the sound of countless dead voices as they snarled and growled their displeasure with this new phase of existence.

"What do we do?" Glenn gasped. "Holy shit, what do we do?"

"Put the car in reverse, Glenn." Andrea said. "And get us the hell out of here."

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> The Rolling Stones, _Gimme Shelter_


	29. Shamed

_I could paint a picture with a pen_  
><em>But a song will only scratch the skin<em>  
><em>And there are still places I haven't been<em>  
><em>Because I know what's in there is already in there<em>

_Hey, there's truth in the thunder_  
><em>Love in the lightning, the feeling is frightening<em>  
><em>Yeah, isn't it exciting?<em>  
><em>I'm something like stormy weather<em>  
><em>If I weren't we would never<em>  
><em>Huddle together, do I have to tell you<em>  
><em>That I'm also the sunlight, that shines shortly after?<em>  
><em>I just rain cause I have to, on to a new chapter<em>  
><em>I wish you lots of laughter<em>  
><em>Til the next time you see me<em>  
><em>Just remember you need me, I'm the storm coming<em>

_Oh yeah, there's a storm on the way_  
><em>There's a storm on the way, alright<em>  
><em>There's a storm on the way<em>  
><em>And it's coming no matter what I say.<em>

_Run towards the hills to avoid the high flood_  
><em>I can do a dance that'll make the sky cry blood<em>  
><em>Skills provoking, and seals to be broken open<em>  
><em>All that's left to do is try my love<em>

_I'm singing in the cyclone_  
><em>I'm writing a raging sea<em>  
><em>Searching for a sign of the times<em>  
><em>Is it safe to say it's me?<em>  
><em>Listen to our lives<em>  
><em>The wind will whisper the way it is<em>  
><em>I am going to happen, what a lovely day it is<em>  
><em>Don't ask why<em>  
><em>Just live, and die.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Shamed<strong>

Alexis headed back to the river camp at a run, but not before wasting a few precious moments to convince Kyle to let her go alone so he could help Rick get the search parties organized. She passed T-Dog on the way, and after hearing what had happened he pulled together the wall builders to start looking in the woods nearest to their work site. The first people she encountered back at the camp was Rennie Mason, Mara's older brother, who was halfway underneath an old truck, working on something beneath. The younger brother Jake stood next to the truck, handing him tools. He looked up as Alexis came into view, and she cursed silently as she realized it was too late to pretend she hadn't seen them.

"Hey," Jake greeted her. "You're Dixon's girl, ain't ya?" Rennie wiggled his way out from under the truck and stood up, wiping his hands on a cloth that was already covered in engine grease. Alexis slowed and then stopped, looking around for a moment to see if anyone else was nearby. Nobody was in sight, although she could see the smoke from the camp's always-burning fire just ahead.

"Yeah," she said. "You seen him?"

"Nope," Jake said. "Not since last night. Somethin' wrong?"

"A kid from town's gone missing," she said. "The preacher's daughter. I don't suppose you guys have seen her?"

"She don't come up this way," said Jake.

Rennie turned to spit a large gob of something brown and unpleasant-looking on the ground. The mess landed in the dirt close to Alexis' boot. She glanced down at it, then back up at him. He was regarding her with narrowed eyes and by his expression she guessed he wasn't the smartest bulb in the box.

"Okay, then," she turned and started walking again, heading for the camp. As she put distance between herself and the Mason brothers, she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck tingle and start to stand up straight. _Great. Now is not a good time for another Pervert Alert_. She looked back once just before she reached the camp, but both had turned their attention back to the truck.

"Miguel!" she spotted him as soon as she reached the camp, standing outside the barn with Guillermo. Both were looking up at the roof, and she saw a tall ladder against the side with someone climbing to the top. Miguel turned at the sound of his name and waved at her.

"What's all this?" she asked, coming to stand next to him.

"You've just been evicted from the hayloft," said Guillermo, and gestured to where her pack and sleeping bag sat just inside the doorway. "Some dumbass backed a truck inside and hit one of the support beams. You're on a cot in the storage room if you're still not talkin' to your boy."

"No," she sighed. "We're fine. You guys seen Hannah Wilcox? Preacher's kid... she's gone missing."

"Yesterday," said Guillermo, looking sideways at Miguel. "She was here."

"Here? When?" Alexis looked at them both, noticing that Miguel's ears were now turning bright red. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Really, Miguel?"

"What?" he protested. "We're just _friends_."

"Sure you are," said Guillermo. "When did she leave?"

"Afternoon," Miguel answered. "She had to go do some prayer thing at the church."

"She didn't go home after prayers," Alexis said. "Are you sure you didn't see her afterwards?"

"No," he insisted. "I swear I didn't. She said she might come back up but when she didn't come I figured her _mama_ was pissed at her again. Bitch gave her a black eye last time, you know."

"Anybody know where Daryl went? We need him in the woods." Alexis hurried over to gather up her belongings, intending to put them in Daryl's tent before she went back to town.

"Nah," said Miguel, and Guillermo pushed past him to rally up a few people to search around the camp. "Thought he was heading towards town awhile ago."

"He'll find us, I suppose," Alexis sighed. "Miguel, I need you to search around here. Ask if anyone's seen her and see if she's hiding out from her mother anywhere."

"Angelita, if she was here I'd know it," Miguel said. Alexis stopped walking and faced him.

"Miguel, listen - " she paused for a moment, looking for the right words. _This is awkward._ "Hannah's not... well.. she's never been outside of this town in her life, except for a trip to the hospital at Benning."

"Oh, please don't," Miguel looked horrified. "Dude if you're going to start talking to me like a _mother_..."

"Fine," said Alexis. "How about this... her mother will rip your head off and shit down your neck if you touch her. Got it?"

"Will you just go put your stuff in the tent?" Miguel shouted and stalked away from her, Alexis smiled as she noticed his ears were even darker red than before. She made her way through the rows of tents, counting them as she passed and occasionally nodding in greeting at their residents. She also counted nine children, two mothers holding infants and six or seven elderly and wondered when they had all arrived. Cooking fires dotted the area and people gathered in groups, skinning rabbits or squirrel, cleaning fish and hanging recently-washed clothes to dry. A dark red rubber ball bounced across her path, and she paused to trap it with her foot before it bounced too far out of reach of the two small boys who chased it.

The small camp of "outcasts" had grown into a town all on its own, and its residents easily outnumbered those in Kindred. Alexis could see the finished edge of the wall from where she paused at the edge of the field, and wondered if the people of Kindred had given any thought to how completely ignorant it was to reduce their own numbers so deliberately...

"Mara!" Rennie Mason's rough voice cut across the camp and got Alexis' attention. He was coming up the road, pausing to spit once and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Alexis spotted Daryl's tent up ahead, just under the shelter of a large old oak, but stepped quickly to the side to duck behind a stack of wooden crates until Rennie passed.

"Mara, come on," He bellowed irritably. "Wake up. Truck's runnin' but it ain't got no gas. Jake wants ya to make a run for more."

"Stop yer hollering, I'm awake," Alexis heard her own breath catch in her throat as she watched Mara Mason shove the flap open on Daryl's tent and step outside. She was barefoot and stood for a moment, buttoning up her pants as she stuck one foot back inside and kicked her oversized leather boots out one at a time.

"Better watch it, Dixon's bitch is around here somewhere," Rennie said.

"So what? Ain't like she's even tryin' to hang on to him." Mara stuck her feet in the boots and stomped awkwardly after after her brother as he led the way back towards the truck.

Alexis stood frozen in place, feeling as if all the blood had suddenly been drained from her chest. A sharp pain shot through her hand, and she realized she was gripping her backpack against her body so tightly her knuckles were cramping up. She let out a long breath, loosened her grip and looked at the still-open flap on Daryl's tent for a moment longer, then turned away and blindly headed back in the direction she'd come.

In front of the barn again, she stopped for a moment and looked around, then spotted Kyle's tent which he had set up close to the RV for easy access to his collection of weapons locked up inside. She heard someone calling her name and looked around in confusion, finally spotting the doctor from Fort Benning, standing in front of the large medical tent and waving to get her attention. Alexis hesitated for half a second longer, then hurried over to Kyle's tent and tossed her belongings inside.

As she jogged back across the dirt road towards Doctor Stevens, she did her best to force what she'd just seen from her thoughts. _At least until after we find Hannah... then his redneck ass has some explaining to do..._

Doctor Janice Stevens was wearing jeans and an oversized man's flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up past her elbows and her normally tightly-bound hair was pulled back in a messy knot. Alexis might not have recognized her out of her severe hospital gear if she hadn't seen her around the camp recently. Her light blue eyes were still sharp and her expression just as stony as before, but she made direct eye contact with Alexis as she approached, something she had not done at the hospital. Alexis slowed her pace and stopped as something about the woman's face struck her as familiar, but she couldn't quite decide what it was.

"She's here," Doctor Stevens said in a low voice. "Hannah. She's inside."

Alexis ducked under the flap and followed her inside. The medical tent was large and housed twelve army-issue cots, six on each side. They had clearly been prepared for the possibility of a fast evacuation from Benning, at least prepared enough to have the basic needs packed and ready to go. But it was a far cry from the solid walls and controlled environment of the hospital. Only four of the cots were occupied by people with various minor injuries and a fifth was snoring so loudly the very ground seemed to vibrate.

"Every town has its drunk," Stevens mumbled in explanation as she led Alexis past the slumbering snorer towards a privacy screen set up in the furthest corner. A blanket had been draped around the open side to give more privacy, and Stevens lifted it, held it up so Alexis could look inside.

"Holy shit," she said out loud as her eyes settled on Hannah's face, bruised and battered almost beyond recognition. Stevens gave her a push and they both stepped in and let the blanket-curtain fall. Hannah was awake, one eye swollen shut and the other open, looking back at Alexis. The doctor had stitched up a long cut on her forehead and another on her chin, and her lower lip was split and swollen. Alexis swallowed with a dry throat and grasped at Hannah's fingers as the girl reached out towards her and started to cry.

"Who did this?" Alexis asked in a hoarse whisper. She gently pulled the blanket away from her shoulder to expose what could only be finger bruises on her neck and one very clear bite mark. Hannah immediately shivered, and Alexis jerked the blanket back up at the sight of the bite and bruises.

"No," Stevens said, keeping her voice low. "That came from a living person, although when word gets out I suspect he won't be for much longer. She came here last night. I don't know how she made it here alone, but she did."

"They're searching the woods for her," Alexis said. "I should call Rick on the radio, tell him... Hannah, who did this to you?"

"Don't," Hannah spoke with great effort, stopped and licked her dry lips. Stevens reached over and helped her sit up enough to drink from a plastic cup.

"She doesn't want anyone to know where she is," said Stevens.

"No," Hannah was crying again, and turned on her side, pulled the blanket up over her head. Alexis caught a glimpse of more marks on her back, and reached over to cover the girl completely with the scratchy army-issue blanket.

"Tell me," said Alexis, pulling Doctor Stevens out from behind the screen and away from Hannah's bed. "She was raped, wasn't she? Who did it? I'm going to fucking_ kill_ him."

"She won't say a word about it," said Doctor Stevens. "At first I thought Marion had beaten her because she's been sneaking over here to visit that Mexican boy. It wouldn't be the first time. I was up all night with her. She won't say a word but it's pretty clear what happened."

Alexis stared hard at her face, and suddenly realized why Doctor Stevens looked familiar. She looked almost exactly like Marion.

"You're sisters," she said. "You and that raving bitch are _sisters_?"

"Yes," said Janice. "I grew up in Kindred, but left after some... unpleasantness." She turned away to fill the cup with water from a large five-gallon jug of water.

"Okay," Alexis sighed. "Fine. I won't tell her parents she's here. But they're still looking for her, and it could be putting people at risk..."

"I don't give a damn," Steven's voice had gone cold again, and Alexis looked at her in surprise. "If they know she's here, they'll come to take her back. The world's gone to hell, Alexis. I'm not going to let those fools take her down with them."

"We outnumber them, in case you haven't noticed recently," Alexis said. The doctor looked up at her, then glanced past her to the camp outside and back again.

"Yes," she said. "I suppose we do."

"I'm going to talk to _that Mexican boy_," said Alexis. "They'll blame him first and her second. His name is Miguel, in case you were wondering."

* * *

><p>Kyle stood at the top of the wooden wall, looking across the cornfields towards the town through a pair of binoculars. The search for the missing girl was well under way, and he'd been impressed by how the town had pulled together so quickly right along with those working on the wall and Guillermo's people from the camp across the river. Alexis had been the one to rally support from there, but Kyle suspected it hadn't taken much effort on her part. Rick seemed pretty sure the girl would be found somewhere in town, but the preacher was adamant that the woods be searched thoroughly and ignored Rick's warnings about the danger of walkers.<p>

"God will protect me," the man insisted stubbornly. Kyle could only roll his eyes at the man's lack of reasonable thought. He didn't have any particular beef with any churches at all, unlike Alexis who probably ground her teeth at the sight of one, but he couldn't comprehend the thought process that made anyone believe in prayer over action during any emergency.

Daryl had arrived only moments after Alexis left, and with Rick had formed two groups to search the surrounding woods first, leaving Kyle in charge of the search within the town with the few remaining volunteers. He'd organized a quick plan - two would go door to door, knock and ask if she'd been around. The rest would search the empty houses in the uninhabited part of town, as they were the most likely destination for a runaway teenager. Kyle went through the town's few public buildings from top to bottom, then cut through the cornfields and climbed the highest point of the fence for the best view of the entire area.

"Missing kids," he mumbled to himself. "Batshit crazy people... no wonder she's missing. Probably hiding from them."

"Kyle," the walkie-talkie at his belt was suddenly making noise, and he dropped his hand to turn the volume down immediately, out of habit more than any real fear of being overheard.

"What is it, Lex? Did you find her?"

"No," she said. "But can you come up to the barn? I need some help organizing everyone here."

_Right,_ Kyle sighed. Alexis wouldn't ask for his help if she was drowning and he was a life vest. He knew immediately that she'd either found Hannah or knew where she was, but she wasn't saying so over the radio. _That can't be good._

He jumped down from the wall and slung his rifle across his back as he headed towards the river. Passing through the center of town, he spotted Marion Wilcox sitting on the church of the steps being comforted by a couple of the other women in town. Among them were Lori Grimes and Carol Pelletier, neither of whom he had spoken to since he'd returned. He raised a hand in greeting to them both, and Lori waved back immediately. Carol only looked at him, her face unreadable as he passed by. Carl and Sophia were both there, and their faces lit up at the sight of him, but Carol pulled Sophia away, turned her in the other direction completely as if protecting her from some threat.

_She doesn't trust me._ He sighed inwardly. The thought bothered him more than he'd imagined it would. It wasn't that long ago that she'd smiled often at him, even laughed at something he said in a lame attempt to be funny or at least make the kids giggle. But once the truth about his mission had come out, she'd stopped talking to him completely and forbade Sophia from even sitting near him around a campfire. Kyle had asked Rick about her, and from what he'd heard it seemed she was comfortable here. She attended church regularly and helped with the schooling of the local children, and seemed to be almost happy. Rick had admitted that he wasn't convinced Kindred was an ideal place for everyone, but considering the options were close to none it was the best choice they had for now.

Which of course must be why he made sure all of their vehicles were filled with gas and everyone still had their customary "go-bag" in case a hasty exit was needed, Kyle supposed. Unfortunately, the group had scattered and divided somewhat since arriving here. As much as he had come to like them all, Kyle knew he couldn't be another Rick Grimes and watch out for everyone. He'd come back for Alexis, and she was the only thing that mattered. Well, maybe not the _only_ thing, Kyle turned away as Carol retreated into the church with Sophia and within moments he was crossing the bridge and approaching the camp. Alexis was standing in front of the barn, her arms crossed and her posture tense and angry. Kyle read her expression and felt his stomach twist slightly in anticipation. Whatever she wanted him for, it wasn't to share good news.

"Where is she?" he asked as soon as she was close. Alexis turned her head and gestured towards the medical tent with a nod of her head.

"Okay," said Kyle. "And we're not telling her parents because...?"

"Because they're assholes," she said tightly. "Somebody raped her Kyle. They'll blame _her_ for it, just like they blame every bad thing that happens on some random sin or another. And then they'll blame Miguel, because he's an easy target."

"She say who did it?" Kyle could almost feel the rage pouring out of her, and watched her cautiously, as one might watch an angry cat just before it attacked.

"No," she shook her head and cast her angry gaze around the camp. "But I have a theory."

"Do tell."

"My Pervert Alert went off a little while ago."

"Your _what?_"

* * *

><p>"Could you make some more noise, jackass?" Daryl snarled at the man walking to his right. "I think there might be a few branches you ain't stomped on yet."<p>

At Rick's request he'd grudgingly agreed to lead six men into the woods behind the preacher's house, and it wasn't until they were well into the search that he realized three of them were part of the group that had caused him to get shot - well, _grazed_ - recently. He didn't know which of them had the twitchy trigger finger, so he made sure they were evenly spread out on either side of him in case someone decided to start shooting at shadows.

"Sorry," the noisy man said, his voice carrying louder than it should have. He promptly stepped on another twig, and it snapped loud enough to make everyone flinch.

"Okay, _stop_." said Daryl. They all stopped, and looked at him warily as he spoke in a lowered tone. "There's walkers in these woods, people. You get that? _Walkers._ They can hear us, and they can smell us. If that girl is hidin' out here, she's not going to call out to us. So shut up, keep your eyes open and pay attention. Got me?"

_She ain't out here anyway, and if she is, she ain't alive._ He knew it, and he knew they were all thinking it. But Rick was hell bent on finding her, and what Rick grimes wants... well he didn't usually get it, but Daryl figured it was what Alexis was probably doing right now anyway so he might as well do the same.

Under his direction, the group circled to the South and covered the small wooded area until they reached the remains of an old concrete wall. Daryl boosted himself up with one of the least noisy of the bunch, a younger man named James who didn't seem to be a complete moron, and they both peered into the trees beyond to the road, listening with straining ears. After a moment, Daryl felt a tap on his arm and turned to see James pointing ahead and to the left. Down close to the road, movement caught Daryl's eye, and both men watched without moving as several walkers shuffled along. They weren't heading towards them, but rather continued following the road that would wind around to the main gate.

"Go back," Daryl whispered, and waited until James had jumped down before following. He gestured for the others to stay quiet and move away from the wall before speaking.

"She ain't come this way," Daryl said to the group.

"She coulda jumped the fence," one of the men said.

"What the hell for?" Daryl sneered. "She's a dumb kid but she ain't _that_ stupid. There's nothin' out there but walkers and she knows it. She didn't come this way, we're wastin' time."

"How do _you_ know she didn't?" Another man said, and Daryl looked around at them all in turn. Every one of them was glaring at him except James, who managed to just look uncomfortable.

"Good lord," Daryl snorted and walked away, not bothering to answer the man's question.

* * *

><p>"Rick," Kyle's voice cut through the thick silence of the woods to the walkie-talkie Rick had brought with him, and he held up one hand to stop the others as he answered it. Mikel Wilcox had come with him, and he approached Rick with an anxious frown as he answered the radio.<p>

"I'm here," said Rick. "What do you have?"

"Call off the search," said Kyle. "We've got her."

"They have her? Is she all right? She's safe?" Mikel grasped at Rick's arm, then turned to the others as they gathered around to listen. Rick held up a hand to them again and turned away.

"Alive?" he said quietly. There was a pause, and Rick imagined Kyle talking to someone else before answering.

"Yes," he finally said. "She's safe."

"Praise God," Mikel all but shouted. Rick flinched and looked around, then started waving at everyone to head back towards town.

"Daryl, did you get that?" Rick followed the group at a distance so he could talk uninterrupted.

"Yeah," said Daryl. "At the river camp? I'm heading that way now."

"No," said Kyle. "Meet us at the church."

* * *

><p>"They're following us," Andrea was twisted around and kneeling on the seat so she could look out the rear window, as Glenn floored the gas pedal to put some distance between them and Hell.<p>

"I know!" He almost shouted. "I'm going as fast as I can." He stepped hard on the brake and downshifted to maneuver through several abandoned cars. Speed wasn't a problem, the enormous rambling herd moved like a spreading puddle of molasses, perhaps because of the sheer numbers. The problem was the possibility of getting to a place where they couldn't go forward, and back might be the only option. Andrea watched out the rear window for a few more minutes, then abruptly set her gun down on the seat and fumbled for the map.

"Where are we?" She said. "Is this 85?"

"Yeah," said Glenn. "It's a straight shot back to Kindred from here. If we hurry, we can beat that herd by half a day and warn everyone."

"That's not enough," she said, and folded down half the map so she could see their location more clearly. "You know those people, they'll have to discuss and argue about God's will before they go anywhere."

"Is there a side route? Maybe we can cut across country and get there faster?" Glenn glanced in the rearview mirror, feeling a little less panicked with a decent distance between them and the herd. Even over the wagon's engine, the continuous maddening hum of the dead could be heard, like a persistent ringing in the ear that refused to go away.

"No," she said. "But if we get off at the next exit we can follow 70 and circle around to their left flank."

"Left flank? Glenn shouted. "What are you, a military strategist now? They have a _flank?_"

"Stop being such a baby," Andrea snapped. "We can _turn_ them. Get their attention and draw them away from Kindred."

"You're crazy," Glenn turned to look at her, but all he saw in her face was determination and a strange, excited light in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Oh Jesus, you're serious. It won't work! How can it work?" _This is insane... she can't be serious..._

"Why won't it work?" She waved the map at him. "Jenner said they only have the most basic needs of any living things. They don't even have much in the way of instincts, Glenn... if they see food, they'll follow it. And guess what we are?"

Glenn turned his attention back to the road and spotted the exit up ahead.

"A boxed lunch," he said, and let out a long breath. He slowed the car with both feet on the brake and yanked the wheel hard to the right, heading for the exit ramp.

* * *

><p>Daryl arrived in the center of town ahead of Rick and the preacher, after having ditched the search party that seemed determined to not take orders from him. Alexis and Kyle stood at the foot of the church's steps, their attention on a third person who sat huddled on the bottom step. As Daryl drew closer he saw it was Rennie Mason, and he'd been handcuffed to the railing. Kyle stood with rifle in hands in a watchful position, but he looked up and nodded as Daryl approached.<p>

"What's all this?" Daryl frowned in confusion. Alexis glanced at him, then looked away without answering. She was holding her machete and standing over Rennie as if fully prepared to take his head off if he so much as moved. He appeared to have been recently worked over, sporting a freshly bruised, swollen eye and split lip, and his right hand rested stiffly across his knees while the left was held fast with the cuffs. Daryl took it all in, then looked at Kyle's grim expression, his bruised knuckles and Alexis pacing like an angry she-wolf behind him.

"Jesus, Rennie," Daryl said. "What did you do?"

"Fuck you," Rennie spat in the dirt between his own two feet and refused to look at any of them.

"Hannah?" Daryl looked up at Alexis, but she still refused to meet his eyes.

"She'll recover," said Kyle.

"You fucker," Daryl snarled and started towards Rennie with a clenched fist.

"Hold up," said Kyle, and raised a hand to stop him, then nodded at the approaching group behind him. All turned to see Rick, Mikel Wilcox and the search party that had accompanied them approaching. More movement from the other side of the square, and Alexis turned to see T-Dog coming into view with Guillermo and several others from across the river coming closer. Coming up behind them was Mara Mason, walking with fast, purposeful strides with her eyes fixed on her older brother. She passed the group and reached the center first, heading straight for him. Alexis immediately stepped into her path and Mara stopped short at the sight of her unsheathed machete.

"Close enough," Alexis said quietly. Mara's eyes flickered to Daryl, who wasn't even looking at her at that moment, then met Alexis' again.

"Rennie," Mara called. "You get one chance to convince me that you didn't touch that girl, and about ten seconds to do it."

"I didn't touch her," he said immediately, as if automated. Mara closed her eyes for a moment and then looked to the side and backed away.

"He's lying," she sighed. "Jesus goddamn _shit_, Rennie."

"Somebody's going to explain what's going on here, I presume?" Rick spoke up, and all eyes turned to him.

"Where's my daughter?" Mikel Wilcox spoke up. "You said she was here."

"No," said Kyle. "I said she's safe. Look, preacher... there's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it. This worthless piece of shit attacked your daughter last night. She's safe now and in good hands, but she doesn't want to see you, or your wife."

"What?" Mikel stammered, the color draining out of his face. "You... she... how dare you... Who is this person? Who let him in?"

"Nobody let him in," Mara said. "Nobody _let_ any of us in. This piece of shit is my brother, and now I wish I'd left him to rot where he was. I should have left you in prison you pig-fuck sonofabitch!"

"Prison?" Mikel stood in utter confusion, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "He was in prison? What prison? Where's Hannah? I don't understand..."

"Are you sure about this?" Rick looked at Kyle directly, and he nodded in reply.

"I beat it out of him," Kyle admitted. "But it didn't take much. He seemed proud to admit it."

"Fuck you all," Rennie said.

"You shamed my daughter," Mikel was staring at the man now, shaking as if his knees might collapse beneath him. "You Godless monster... you _shamed_ my daughter."

"Shut up, you ignorant bastard," Alexis suddenly said. "She's not _shamed_. She's a victim, and don't you dare even _think_ about making her believe it's her fault." Everyone stared as Mikel broke down into fits of noisy, wet hiccuping sobs, and Daryl backed away in disgust as the man collapsed almost at his feet.

"Let's go," said Rick, stepping forward. "We've got one cell in this town and he should fit just fine."

"And then what?" said Alexis. "You feed him and make sure he's treated humanely until trial? He's guilty already, Rick. There's no jury to decide."

"What do you want me to do, Lex? Hang him? Shoot him in the head?" Rick looked around at the gathering crowd and realized he wasn't going to get any support. "No. We start down this path and there's no telling where it will stop."

"He's guilty, Grimes," Daryl said. "There ain't no law no more."

"You'll burn in Hell," Mikel said, and Rennie turned cold, uncaring eyes on him and spit on the ground again before showing his brownish teeth in a hideous caricature of a smile.

"She wiggled like a fish," he said, speaking in such a matter-of-fact tone that Mikel could only gape at him in shock. Alexis made a sound that resembled a growl and started forward, but Mara moved faster, slipping past her and Kyle with three fast steps towards her brother. Rick cursed as he saw she held a gun in her hand and jumped forward, but found himself bodily blocked when Daryl stepped calmly into his path.

"No!" Rick shouted as Mara pointed the gun at her brother's head and smoothly pulled the trigger. Someone let out a scream as Rennie's head exploded from the back, sending brain, bone and blood spraying up across the white-painted steps and onto the closed door. Alexis gasped and turned her head away, and Kyle took several steps back in surprise. Rick shoved angrily at Daryl, who let him go immediately and moved around towards Alexis.

Mara stood calmly, looking at the remains of her brother's head, then up at the closed door, where thick red globs were slowly beginning to drip down onto the doorstep. Then she turned and looked at Mikel Wilcox, who was staring at her in utter horror.

"Guilty as charged," she said, and handed her gun to Kyle. The crowd parted immediately to let her pass, and for long moments the only sound was of Mikel, still sobbing and uttering prayers. Then Kyle reached down and unlocked the handcuffs, releasing Rennie's wrist and handing the cuffs to Rick.

"Get some of the guards to clean up this mess," he said to him. "Justice is done, Rick. Let it go."

Rick stared at him, eyes wide and shifting back and forth from Kyle to Rennie, to Daryl and Alexis and back to the preacher. _Let it go._ Finally he nodded, looked around at the gathered crowd and handed the cuffs back to Kyle before walking away. Kyle watched as he kept walking, heading towards the side street where he shared a house with his wife, son and baby on the way. _Let it go._

"Go home, preacher," Kyle said, his eyes still on Rick's retreating back. "Go home to your wife. You can see your daughter later, when she's ready."

"My daughter is dead," Mikel Wilcox said hoarsely. Kyle frowned and looked at him as he struggled to his feet with the help of two parishioners. "She is dead to us now. It is God's will that she leaves us, and can never return." He covered his face like a mourning parent, and Kyle turned to look at Alexis. She looked straight back at him and he could almost hear her thoughts. _They'll blame her._ Then Daryl took hold of her elbow and said something in her ear, and she nodded in response. She was still looking at Kyle as she started to follow Daryl back to the river camp.

"Well then," said Kyle. "You'd better get home to your wife so you can tell her how you've decided to disown your own flesh and blood to save yourself from public shame. But first you'd better get to work on those steps. Once blood dries, it never really comes off."

He gestured at the only remaining guards standing nearby and ordered them to bring soap and water so the preacher could clean the steps of his church. When he turned to look at the rest of the crowd, all had dispersed except for the few who hovered around their heartbroken leader. One stood unmoving as the rest moved away, and Kyle found himself looking at Carol Pelletier's eyes as she studied his face thoughtfully. Her arms were crossed and she rubbed them with her hands as if they were cold, and as Kyle stood looking back at her in silence, she smiled a very small and hesitant smile, then nodded at him once before turning away.

* * *

><p>"We busted Rennie out of Georgia State Prison," Mara said quietly. "Right after everything started to go down. Jake and me. He promised he wouldn't do it again. He <em>promised.<em>"

She was sitting on one of the overturned milk crates that served as chairs for everyone, while Daryl, Alexis, Guillermo, Dale and T-Dog stood in a half-circle around her. Alexis tipped a crate over for herself and sat wearily, feeling as if she'd run a marathon twice in one day. She felt not a single bit of sympathy for Mara, but held her tongue and listened nonetheless. Daryl remained standing, but moved so he was right behind Alexis, his knee at her lower back.

"We couldn't just leave him there," Mara went on. "Everything was going to hell. Soldiers killing people in the streets, they dropped Napalm on Atlanta... _Napalm_. By the time Jake and me got to Reidsville, the guards had started killing the prisoners in general population. All the gates were open. We just ran in and started shootin' till we found him. We opened all the cell doors, who knows _what_ we let loose. But it ain't right to just leave 'em all to die like that, right?"

She looked up and around at everyone as if seeking support, but only Guillermo seemed to respond with a slight frown.

"Maximum is D-Block," said Daryl. "You let everyone in D Block out?"

"Most," she said. "General pop was screwed, already full of walkers. The guards started shooting at us, so we got Rennie and a few others and ran like hell. We closed the gates on the way out, locked 'em all in."

"I take it your brother was in for rape," said Alexis. Mara looked at her sideways, but nodded. "So you busted out a rapist, probably more than one. Murderers, felons... the best picks of Georgia's correctional system, yes?"

"Screw you, bitch," Mara spat. "Your narrow ass has never even _seen_ the inside of a cell, I'm betting."

"Watch your mouth," said Daryl, and Mara looked at him in surprise, but held her tongue.

"We'll leave," she said after a moment. "Jake's all I got left now. We'll go so nobody has to worry about their daughters anymore."

"Nobody's blaming you," Guillermo spoke up. "It's done, and nobody can change anything that happened."

"Where's Miguel?" Alexis asked distantly.

"Well, he was going into town to shoot that ratfuck in the head," said Guillermo. "But seein' as how his own sister did it for him, I guess he's probably visiting Hannah."

Mara abruptly stood up and pushed her way through the group, nearly knocking Alexis off her seat. Alexis gritted her teeth but stayed where she was as Daryl followed Mara around the side of the barn. _She's leaving. Just let him say goodbye and she'll be gone._ A sudden burst of static noise interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced down at the walkie-talkie Kyle had handed off to her when they took Rennie into town. Dale came closer to listen, kneeling down in front of her as she leaned forward and turned the volume up.

"Andrea and Glenn," said T-Dog hopefully, also drawing close. "They're on their way back?"

A voice came through, broken by static and unintelligible, and Alexis frowned as she twisted a knob, trying to tune in on the signal.

"Someone there?" she spoke into it, and keyed the talk button a couple times. After a brief silence, she handed it to Dale and he adjusted one of the knobs a little more. The static-choked noise started up again, and they all heard the voice trickling through, but again could not quite make out the words.

"Glenn?" said Dale. "That you? You're too far, son. You have to get closer, these are shortwaves. Where are you?"

_ "Walkers,"_ The voice suddenly broke through clearly. _"Too many - cut off - Andrea -"_

"Glenn?" Dale said loudly into the walkie, and Alexis exchanged a quick look with Guillermo. "Say again, Glenn. Repeat all after _walkers._ Did you see the herd?"

"Get the hell out of there," Glenn's voice was suddenly loud and clear, and tense with near-panic. "Tell Rick to evacuate the town. Do it now!"

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Gnarls Barkley, _Storm Coming_


	30. Stick to the Plan

_And after the storm,_  
><em>I run and run as the rains come<em>  
><em>And I look up, I look up,<em>  
><em>on my knees and out of luck,<em>  
><em>I look up.<em>

_Night has always pushed up day_  
><em>You must know life to see decay<em>  
><em>But I won't rot, I won't rot<em>  
><em>Not this mind and not this heart,<em>  
><em>I won't rot.<em>

_And I took you by the hand_  
><em>And we stood tall,<em>  
><em>And remembered our own land,<em>  
><em>What we lived for.<em>

_And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears._  
><em>And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.<em>  
><em>Get over your hill and see what you find there,<em>  
><em>With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Stick to the Plan<strong>

Kyle turned the wheel hard, causing the Jeep to fishtail as it turned sharply left down the side road that led to the Grimes' home. Guillermo had kept himself and his people busy during their stay in Kindred Exile, repairing, tuning and making sure the vehicles they had acquired along the way were in perfect condition and ready to go. Just in case. And today was the day that _just in case_ would pay off, Kyle mused to himself. Not counting Dale's RV, they had the Jeep, two wagon-style 4 wheel drive vehicles, Two big rattly pickup trucks and T-Dog's Explorer, which they had recovered from the lake camp when they'd gone back for Daryl's motorcycle. The Mason family had arrived on three motorcycles, and with one brother now dead they would be leaving on two and abandoning one.

Doctor Stevens had arrived in an old army-style truck formerly used for transporting troops, and it was that vehicle which would prove most valuable in getting the people of the camp to safety. It was hard to miss the Vietnam-era military tank parked at the main gate into town, but Kyle figured he was the only one who knew how to drive the damned thing, and it wasn't exactly efficient in the mileage department anyway.

"Grimes!" he shouted as he pulled into their driveway and cut the engine. He barely noticed that he trampled the yellow flowers that lined the drive and walkway as he hurried up the front steps, and Lori was already out on the porch before he cleared the top step.

"What's wrong?" She frowned at the expression on his face. "What happened? Someone else get executed in town today?" She stepped aside as Rick appeared in the doorway behind her, regarding Kyle with a neutral expression.

"Grimes," Kyle took a second to catch his breath before continuing. "Glenn and Andrea reported back. You were right. The herd is heading straight for us. We've got a couple hours to empty this town before they reach the front gates."

"How many?" Rick reached just inside the front door and picked up his gun belt and holster from the table. Lori immediately turned and went inside, calling out for Carl to help her gather their emergency bags.

"He wasn't making a lot of sense," said Kyle. "But Glenn said thousands. Lex raised him on the radio and managed to get a location. They crashed the car, but I guess they're okay. Daryl and T-Dog went out to bring them back."

"The others?" Rick buckled the belt and picked up the two shotguns that were also just inside the door.

"Ready," said Kyle. "On the other side of the river, at least. Kindred folk ain't moving. Seems the preacher has 'em all convinced that he can hold back the flood... so to speak."

"I'll talk to him," Rick turned to meet Lori and Carl as they came to the door, two backpacks in each hand. Lori handed him a heavy-looking duffel bag stuffed full to the point of overflowing and Rick heaved it over his shoulder.

"Take them in our wagon," he tossed Kyle the keys. "I'll take the Jeep into town and see if I can talk some sense into that fool. Dale's got the RV ready?"

"Dale's always ready," Kyle exchanged keys with him and reached down to take one of Carl's back packs, then relieved Lori of both of hers. "Don't take too long."

"Dammit," Rick sighed and glanced at Lori, then down at her small-round belly. "I was really hoping we'd at least be safe here."

"About that," said Kyle. "I have an idea. So hurry up and get to the camp."

* * *

><p>"There it is," T-Dog slowed the Explorer abruptly and pulled over to the side of the road. Daryl was already opening the passenger-side door and jumping out before it came to a complete stop, and he stepped up onto the guardrail to look down the embankment. They'd had little trouble locating the massive herd, but even less avoiding it. The steady hum of thousands of dead, ruined voices was so loud they heard it over the engine long before they saw them. It had been a simple matter of four-wheeling off the side roads to reach the spot where Glenn and Andrea had run off the road and flipped their car.<p>

Flipped, rolled a few times and slid into a shallow muddy pond at the bottom of an embankment, actually. Daryl stood looking at the twisted wreck and wondered how the hell they'd survived the accident, and as if to punctuate the fact that they were alive, Glenn appeared from where they'd hidden just inside the line of trees about fifty yards away from the wrecked car and waved to them both.

"Guess they were wearing their seat belts," T-Dog commented as he came up beside Daryl to look down at the scene below. The air was suddenly filled with the sharp smell of gasoline and they both looked at each other quickly.

"I'll get a gas can," said Daryl. "You get those two idiots up here an' ready to go."

"Right," T-Dog started down the steep incline, baseball bat in hand as always and looking around cautiously. As he drew closer to Glenn, he could see the younger man was sporting a fresh cut above his eyebrow, accented by a nasty swollen bruise. His face was an alarming shade of gray and his eyes darted around rapidly, fearfully.

"You okay?" T-Dog frowned. "Where's Andrea?"

"Over here," Glenn said breathlessly, and started talking a mile a minute as he led him to where she was sitting under a tree, holding a cloth against a bloody gash on the right side of her face.

"It was working," said Glenn. "Just like in Atlanta, when I used the car alarm to draw them away from the department store. We got around to the side and started leaning on the horn, and the ones right up front turned to us right away. Then the ones behind them, and the ones behind them... it was _working_."

"_Was_ is the key word here," Andrea flinched as T-Dog knelt down and pulled the cloth away from her face to expose the cut.

"Yeah," said Glenn, and knelt down next to them both. He'd cleaned the cut with alcohol pads from the small first aid kit in the car's glove compartment, but there was little more than a few gauze pads and some aspirin inside it now. "Instead of the whole herd turning, it split. A bunch of them came after us, but most just kept on going. We tried to raise you all on the radio, but we blew a tire out and crashed into the guardrail. They came at us and there were so many they pushed the car over the edge..."

"Hey," T-Dog raised a hand. "Shut up for a minute and take a breath, man. Can you walk?" he frowned at Andrea, but she shook her head.

"Not much," she said, "My knee's dislocated." She grimaced as T-Dog draped her left arm over his right shoulder and pulled her to her feet, and Glenn immediately moved around to her other side.

"No," T-Dog said, and handed him the bat. "I got her. You take this and go first. Watch for geeks. Daryl's trying to get the gas leaking out of the tank, then we're out of here."

"What about the herd?" Andrea grunted as she made the mistake of putting a bit of weight on her foot. She took a tighter grip on T-Dog's shoulder and managed to do an awkward hop-walk. "It's going to run right over that damned town."

"Yep," said T-Dog. "And we ain't sticking around to watch."

Daryl was kneeling in the mud next to the overturned car as they hurried out of the woods, trying without much luck to catch the leaking gasoline with the open mouth of the gas can. He glanced at T-Dog and shook his head as the trio approached him.

"Tank's almost dry," he said. "And I'm up to my ass in muddy gasoline."

"Nobody light a match," T-Dog quipped. "Come on, guys... let's get outta here before things get worse.

"Oh, shit," said Glenn, stopping short and looking up the steep incline towards where they Explorer was all followed his gaze and Andrea made a small sighing noise at the sight of four walkers shambling around the vehicle curiously.

"Guess things just got worse," Daryl said, and gave Andrea the gas can to hold with her free hand so he could fit a bolt into place on the crossbow.

* * *

><p>"Only take what you need," Alexis shouted for what must have been the dozenth time since they had started breaking down camp. With Guillermo and Felipe's help, she helped break down tents and pack gear into vehicles, captured small children running wild in the chaos and helped the few elderly residents to the Army truck which was under Doctor Stevens' watch.<p>

"You have to leave it here," she said quietly to a woman who insisted on dragging a huge, heavy trunk with her. She helped the woman set it down and opened it for her so she could grab the most valuable items. The woman stuffed framed photographs, a baby's blanket and a teddy bear into her shoulder bag, ignoring the warm-weather clothes and boots that she would likely need someday. Alexis grabbed the boots, tied the laces together and hung them through the straps of the pack, then pushed a heavy sweater into her hands before steering her towards the truck. She snagged yet another small child as he darted past her and hauled him like a wiggling piglet to the truck, where his mother stood frantically calling his name.

"Nine children, two of them infants, eight women, twenty-seven men - some of them old enough to shave- and seven elderly who can barely walk on their own," she remarked to Felipe as mother and son climbed into the truck.

"Kyle said everyone should form a caravan and stay together," Felipe replied. "But they wanna go South with the doc, where's its warmest. What about your people? Going with Kyle's idea?"

"A prison? I don't know... it's either brilliant or completely insane." Alexis shook her head and stood looking around the camp for a moment, doing a mental count of the number of tents still standing. She saw Dale hurrying to help with the last few, then shielded her eyes as two figures appeared on the dirt road from town. Carol and Sophia, she realized. Both were carrying their own bags, and Sophia clutched a worn sweater and the always-present rag doll to her chest.

"It's a good plan," said Felipe. "It's a maximum security prison, high walls and double fences. I've, uh... been there. Guillermo, too."

"I get the feeling Daryl has, too," said Alexis.

Kyle had presented the idea just before Dayl and T-Dog left to pick up Glenn and Andrea. Mara Mason's story about the prison had obviously been a light bulb moment for him, especially when he learned she and her brothers had locked it down behind them when they left. It meant the number of dead inside would be limited, they would be contained and easy to dispatch.

_Easy for who?_ Daryl had immediately demanded. _You really think puttin' ourselves in lockdown is better than campin' in the woods?_ Alexis didn't quite share Kyle's enthusiasm, but as she thought about the unfinished wall surrounding the town of Kindred, she couldn't help but wonder if maximum might be exactly what they needed. So she'd committed an act of betrayal, at least in Daryl's eyes, and sided with Kyle.

_We should check it out,_ she'd said. _Talk to Rick, see what he thinks. It can't be any worse than anywhere else we've been._

Daryl had promptly left with T-Dog, giving Alexis and Kyle a look of absolute disgust as he walked away.

"We'll go with you," said Felipe. "If that's where you all are going." Alexis raised a hand in greeting as Carol drew closer, and smiled at Sophia.

"Going where?" Carol asked. "We're not staying. Preacher Wilcox is telling his people to lay down their arms and pray. I'd hoped a man of God would bring us some peace... but this is insane."

"Are they coming?" Sophia looked up at Alexis with wide, frightened eyes, then at Felipe. "Are the walkers coming? Are they gonna eat us?"

"They're coming, _chiquita_," said Felipe. "But we're leaving before they get here. All right?"

"You two ride in the RV," Alexis suggested, and it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't seen Hannah or thought to ask about her all day. "When Daryl and T-Dog get back we'll figure out the rest."

Carol and Sophia headed towards the RV, and Felipe moved off to continue getting people ready to go as Alexis started toward the medical tent. It had already been emptied and the decision to leave it behind had not been an easy one, but Doctor Stevens understood it was cumbersome and hard to store for easy travel. The older woman had spent the majority of the outbreak in a secure location, and she seemed flustered by the idea of becoming more mobile, but she didn't complain, only tended to her three remaining patients after the others had left. Hannah was one of those patients, and as Alexis drew closer to the nearly-empty tent, Doctor Stevens emerged and gave Alexis an exasperated look.

"She won't move," she said. "We can put her on a stretcher and carry her, but she's likely to fight us the whole way."

"She's scared," Alexis sighed. "Can't say I blame her, either."

"She wants to go with you," said Stevens. "You and Daryl. Says she'll just stay here and die if she can't."

"Well," Alexis almost laughed. "At least she's still got her teen angst. What about you? You're her family... shouldn't she stay with you?"

"Yes," said Stevens. "Which is why I've decided the head for the prison as well. The others want to head South, but all that means to me is more heat. I talked to your brother, and he had some valid points. Maximum security prisons generally have their own hospital wing, prison doctors take care of everything except major surgeries. Grimes' wife has a baby coming. I've convinced the two women here with babies to come along... it's a gamble, I know. But I think it's worth it."

The roar of motorcycle engines suddenly interrupted them, and all eyes turned to see Mara Mason backing her motorcycle out of the barn. She ignored everyone, keeping her eyes on the ground ahead as she slowly drove it around the barn and out of sight, where it could be heard idling as she and her one remaining brother prepared to leave.

"They're not interested in the prison," said Stevens, as if reading Alexis' thoughts. "Not only would they not be very welcome, they flat-out don't want to. Memories, I suppose."

"Right," said Alexis, and sighed. "Okay, talk to Dale. Maybe Hannah can ride in the RV until we get clear. I just want us all to get out of here alive first."

"No arguments there," Doctor Stevens went back inside the tent to collect Hannah, and Alexis took a breath before heading towards the side of the barn where Mara had disappeared. She stood aside briefly to let the Grimes' family wagon pass, and waved once at Kyle and Lori inside, then rounded the corner of the barn and found herself looking at Daryl's tent, still waiting to be taken down. Mara and Jake's motorcycles were parked nearby, but only Jake was visible, kneeling on the ground next to them and checking the gas tanks.

Alexis stopped and sighed in exasperation as Mara emerged from inside the tent, spotting Alexis immediately and ruining her chance at ducking out of sight. She was holding an opened backpack and digging around inside. Her expression turned to stone, and she walked deliberately towards her ride, closing the zipper on her pack.

"Don't get your tits in an uproar," she said. "Daryl let me throw my stuff in there after my own tent leaked and pissed rain all over me and everything I own. Of course you'd know that if you were around."

"I didn't say anything," Alexis replied, feeling a slight pang of embarrassment at having assumed the worst immediately.

"You don't have to," Mara dropped the pack on the ground and reached for the leather jacket draped over the seat of Jake's bike. "I knew what you thought of me right off. You judged me before you even knew my name. But that's okay. That's what your type does, after all."

"My type?" Alexis frowned. "How do you even know what my _type_ is?" Mara snorted and pulled the jacket on, covering her bony shoulders but leaving it unzipped, her belly exposed under the cutoff shirt. Alexis noticed a ring through her belly button and the end of a tattoo that ran down her side.

"New York," Mara said. "Right? Good education, good job, a condo and a little money to spend." She turned and looked at Alexis with a hard expression, letting her gaze run up and down the length of her body twice as she spoke.

"You went to the gym at least three times a week, ate tofu and vegetables, drank apple martinis on weekends. Got your legs and eyebrows waxed every two weeks, silk stockings and high heels, right? Good dental care, too. You probably flossed three times a day."

"Is there a point?" Alexis felt her face starting to flush, but decided not to correct her about the gym. _Only twice a week._

"Yeah," Mara bent and picked up her pack. "Somehow you got stuck here when the world ended, and found yourself surrounded by dirty rednecks and poor people. People like Daryl, my brothers... and me. White trash. Ain't none of us made it past ninth grade and we all seen the inside of a jail once or twice. Bitch, you must have been scared half to death."

"I was," Alexis folded her arms. "But a couple of those rednecks you refer to saved my life. I didn't think they were _trash_ at all."

"Of course you did," Mara snapped. "You just kept your mouth shut because you were lucky enough to find one who treated you half decently. So you let him fuck you to make sure he'd keep you around and protect you from the nasty new world. Then you realized you _liked_ him fucking you so you stuck around for more. It's a sweet deal, isn't it? As long as you get him off he keeps others from trying to get at you."

"Others like your brother, you mean," Alexis felt her anger boiling in the pit of her stomach. "Your white trash brother who raped a fifteen year old girl. Was he one of the ones you're talking about?"

"I know what he did," Mara blinked as if Alexis had slapped her, and Jake stood up behind her, tall and dangerous-looking with his heavy scowl. "He shouldn't have done it, but he did. I _killed_ him for it. That not good enough for you? No... you just stand there and keep on thinking you know everything. Don't matter none to me, but sooner or later your man is gonna see you for what you really are, and he'll wonder why he ever thought he could love you in the first place..." Mara stopped and looked at Alexis sharply, who had flinched very slightly at the word_ love_.

"Huh," she said. "Well, how about that. He ain't never said he loves you, has he? Oh I bet that just burns your cute little ass. I bet that keeps you up at night."

"Fuck it, Mara," said Jake. "Let's go. She don't matter."

"Nope, she don't," Mara seemed to be happy about this new discovery she'd made, and smiled at Alexis venomously. She climbed onto her motorcycle and slipped her pack around her shoulders, then reached back for the helmet that would cover her entire head and face, hiding the fact that she was female from unfriendly eyes. Before she put it on, she winked at Alexis.

"Whether he loves you or not... I bet he would have _loved_ to watch me do you, baby girl. Think about that." She licked her lips and let her eyes run down Alexis' legs to her feet, then back up again. Jake was laughing out loud now, a harsh, unpleasant sound. Alexis stammered and could find no reply, but Mara simply put on her helmet and closed the visor, cutting off any further conversation. They both revved their engines loudly and drove past her, and Alexis didn't miss Mara's black-gloved middle finger salute as they rode through the camp and down the back road to the highway.

_Well...that was a lot more awkward than I thought it would be._

* * *

><p>Rick Grimes arrived in the center of town to find the streets deserted and not a soul in sight. He didn't think it would be hard to find them all, though, and parked Kyle's Jeep right in front of the church. The doors were closed, but he could hear the sound of music from inside, an off-tune piano playing a hymn that was distantly familiar and the sound of voices joining in. He took the stairs two at a time and reached for the door handle, then frowned, pulling twice as he realized it was locked. Moving over to the second set of doors, he found those locked as well and pounded on them loudly.<p>

"Wilcox!" he shouted. "Open up! Come on, we don't have much time!" Inside, the music and singing faltered for a moment, then started up again, louder. Rick stepped back at the sound of someone fumbling with the lock inside, and the Preacher opened one of the doors a few inches and looked out. Seeing Rick standing there, he smiled and opened it wider.

"Come to join us, Grimes?" he said quietly, a strange, unnerving smile on his face.

"No," said Rick. "I've come to ask you to get your people to safety. You can't stay here, you know it's not safe."

"Have faith, brother," Wilcox smiled. "God will deliver us today. You're welcome to join us, but I won't let you try to turn my congregation from God."

"I don't want to turn them away from anything," Rick said, forcing his voice to remain calm and even. "I just want them all to have a chance to _live_, like the rest of us."

"The dead are walking the Earth, Mr. Grimes," Wilcox said calmly. "Surely you've read your bible? These are the end times, and we will wait for God to take us away."

"God doesn't want you to sit and wait for death," Grimes hissed. "And He surely doesn't want you to allow your people to die a horrible death!"

"It's not for us to decide," Marion Wilcox was suddenly behind her husband, and she pulled the door open wide so everyone inside could see Rick standing there. He looked into the church and saw the entire congregation standing, facing him with calm, sad expressions on their faces. Rick took a breath and pushed past the preacher and his wife, coming inside enough to be able to speak and be heard.

"Don't do this," he said, looking around at them all. "You have vehicles, the means to leave this place and find another. There are other towns, other churches... chances to live in peace and safety. Please.. if not for yourselves, then for your families. Your _children_. Are you really willing to stay here and let your children die? Come with us. Across the river, we're leaving before the walkers get here."

"God will deliver us," said a man somewhere in the crowd.

"God will deliver us," a woman's voice, and then the words were spoken by another, and another.

"God will deliver us," said the preacher. "Join us, Grimes, or get out and close the door."

"There are children here," Rick said loudly. "You're going to let the _children_ die? What about your daughter? She's coming with us... you can too."

"She's not my daughter," Wilcox said, sadly this time. "But God will protect her too, if that is His will."

"Idiots," Rick shouted angrily. "Blind, stupid fools! All of you! Those things are going to run down that excuse of a wall you've been building, they're going to find you in here and rip you to pieces while you're still alive! Doesn't that frighten you? Is that how you want to die?"

"God will deliver us," said Marion, and Rick heard the distinct click of a weapon being cocked, turned to stare at her in astonishment. She was pointing a revolver straight at him, and at this range he knew she wouldn't miss.

"Give it up, Grimes," said a voice behind Rick, and he turned to see old Josiah Wilcox standing at the bottom of the steps. He gave his son and daughter-in-law a disdainful look, then leaned forward to spit a line of brown juice onto the steps. "They ain't coming with you, stubborn fools. I will, though. Come on now, you can rescue me."

Rick turned back and gave the congregation one last look, then shook his head and turned away. Anger and frustration welled up inside, mixed with a sense of failure. He couldn't negotiate with these people, and it wasn't something he was accustomed to.

"She's better off without you," he hissed at Wilcox as he passed him. As the door closed behind him, he looked down and saw that the steps were still stained with blood where Rennie Mason's brains had been blown out by his own sister earlier. Behind him, he heard the sound of what could only be chains rattling as someone pulled them through the door handles from the inside, effectively sealing off any further attempts to dissuade them.

"He's your son," Rick said to Josiah as the two climbed into the Jeep. "Don't you want to at least try to talk him out of this?"

"It's too late, Grimes," said Josiah. "He's been gone for a long time. This is what he's been waitin' for, don't you see? He thinks this is Rapture time, it's what he's lived for. Besides, I hear my granddaughter is with you, and - "

"Hush," Rick raised a hand and frowned, listening for a moment. "Do you hear that? What the hell is that sound?"

They both listened for a few moments, straining their ears and then looking at each other as recognition dawned on them both. Josiah grinned at him and spit out the window.

"That there's the Rapture, my friend. Better get us moving. There's one hell of a storm coming."

* * *

><p>Kyle unfolded the map and spread it on the ground in front of the open barn doors, and everyone who wasn't waiting on a truck or in a vehicle gathered around him. Daryl and T-Dog had returned only moments before, and the doctor was tending to the wound on Andrea's face after securing the last chemical cold pack for Glenn. Alexis joined the group quietly, and Kyle noticed her hard, angry expression but made no comment as her eyes sought out Daryl in the crowd and she moved to stand near him.<p>

"Where the hell is Rick?" Kyle demanded of nobody in particular.

"He's on the way now," said Dale, holding up one of the walkie-talkies. "I told him your idea about the prison and he said it can't be worse than here, so I guess he's voting yes."

"A _prison?_" Lori looked around at them all. "Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?"

"No," said Daryl and Alexis at the same time. Daryl looked at her in surprise, and she sighed heavily, rubbed her eyes as if she needed a long nap.

"But like Rick said, it can't be worse than here," Alexis continued. "We might as well go have a look."

"Exactly," said Kyle. "If it's not something we can manage, we just keep moving." He pointed out the prison's location on the map, and Glenn leaned over, holding several road maps in his hand.

"Reidsville," he said. "Georgia State Prison? Are you serious?"

"There's some really bad dudes in there," said T-Dog.

"There were," said Guillermo. "That Mason girl said she and her brothers let 'em all out."

"I'm not sure how that's supposed to make me feel better," said Lori.

"If they're all out, we'll only had to deal with the dead," said Andrea. She flinched as Doctor Stevens put a third butterfly stitch over the cut on her cheekbone, but looked at Kyle unwaveringly. "If we don't have to fight our way out of here, we'll save our ammo for the prison."

"She gets it," Kyle smiled at Dale, who only frowned slightly in return.

"What is that noise?" Carol said suddenly. "Do you all hear that?" Kyle stood up slowly and listened with his head on one side, then frowned hard and looked at Alexis. A strange, distant hum could barely be heard, but it rose gradually even as they all listened now, growing louder like a vibration in the ground under their feet.

"Oh no," said Glenn, and looked at Andrea. Her eyes were wide and her face pale as she recognized the sound.

"What the hell is it?" Daryl almost shouted, and at that moment Rick appeared in the open-top Jeep with Josiah Wilcox in the passenger side. As he cut the engine the sound could be heard louder now, and Alexis fought the urge to clamp her hands over her ears like Sophia did.

"They're here," she said. "Aren't they? That's the herd making that noise!"

"At the main gate," said Rick. "They'll spread out along the wall until they find a way through or around. We have to go _now._"

"Head for the prison, it's marked on the maps," Kyle grabbed the maps from Glenn and handed one to Rick, one to Dale and another to Guillermo. The fourth he would give to the driver of the army truck, in case those heading off separately changed their minds later. Everyone started moving, collecting the last of their belongings and heading for their vehicles. Doctor Stevens escorted Hannah to Kyle's Jeep, then went to ride with Felipe in one of the rattly pickup trucks. Hannah had refused to ride in the RV because Alexis was not there, and she continued to exasperate everyone with her stubbornness. But after what she'd been through, nobody could think of a reason to tell her no.

"Keep the radios on, but stay off them unless you need to shout out," Rick shouted to everyone.

"Get your stuff," Daryl said to Alexis as he climbed onto Merle's motorcycle, and she came to stand next to him. "I want you to ride with Kyle, okay? Hannah wants you with her anyway."

"Your tent," Alexis said suddenly. "I didn't break it down... dammit!"

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Just get your stuff out of it and go with your brother. Don't want you on the bike in case we have to ride through those things." He gave her a push towards where his tent was still standing, but she stopped and shook her head.

"No, it's not there. I put it in Kyle's tent because I - oh, shit... Daryl. I saw Mara coming out of your tent this morning, all half-dressed. I thought... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have thought that you and her were - " Daryl looked at her blankly as if trying to make sense of her words, and she suddenly felt like they were completely out of time. Then he blinked and frowned at her hard, and she knew he understood what the was babbling about.

"You think too fuckin' much," he said. "There's a thousand dead people comin' to eat us and you want to do this _now?_ Christ on a stick, Lex! We'll talk about it later!" Alexis nodded and started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her down to sit sideways in front of him, just long enough kiss her hard on the lips, then pressed his face into her hair.

"You stupid bitch," he muttered in her ear. "Ain't you figured anything out yet?"

"You asshole," she whispered back. "_Tell_ me."

"Lex, come on!" Kyle climbed into the Jeep and honked the horn twice. "We're_ leaving!_"

"Go on," Daryl pushed her away again, not quite as hard this time and started up the engine, eyes fixed firmly on hers. She backed away a few steps, then turned and climbed into the Jeep. As she fumbled with the seat belt, she looked up and saw he was still watching her, then a small cough from the back seat got her attention. She twisted around and saw Hannah, curled on her side with a sleeping bag covering her up to her chin. Her eyes were open, and although one was swollen and disfigured by a dark purple bruise, she looked back at Alexis with clear, alert eyes. She reached back and brushed a bit of hair out of the girl's face, trying not to notice that she flinched when her hand came close to her eyes, then leaned through the seats and buckled the belt around her waist.

"Jeeps are bouncy," she whispered to her. "You'll be sorry you didn't go in the RV."

Around them engines had started and vehicles were moving. Trucks, station wagons, all led by the army vehicle as they pulled out of the camp one at a time. The steady hum of the walkers was loud enough to be heard above the engines now, and Alexis was briefly reminded of a swarm of bees. Dale backed the RV out and started down the road, pausing briefly to wait for the others. As Kyle pulled out to follow it, he glanced in the rear view mirror and stepped hard on the brake. Daryl cursed out loud behind them, nearly running into his rear bumper. Kyle got out of the Jeep and stood staring towards town. Alexis did the same, and soon all eyes were fixed on the thick clouds of dark smoke, billowing up from the tone below and covering the entire area.

"What the hell is burning?" Kyle shouted. Glenn climbed up on the roof of T-Dog's Explorer with a pair of binoculars, trying to see through the haze of smoke.

"The church," he shouted after a moment. "Holy shit, the church is on fire!"

"Get moving!" Rick was out of his own vehicle and waving at the RV. "Dale, go! Head up interstate 80 like we planned! Come on!" He slapped the hood of the pickup truck Guillermo was driving with Miguel beside him and waved them on, then ordered Glenn to get back in the car, and waved at Daryl.

"You lead," he said as Daryl pulled up alongside him. "Go on, take the lead and get us out of here. We'll follow!" Daryl nodded and caught Lex's eye once more before pulling ahead of them all and leading the way down the dirt road. Rick cast one last look back at the town, trying not to think about the thirty people locked inside the burning church. Too late, he remembered seeing cans of gasoline on the ground beside the stairs, and wondered why he hadn't questioned the fact that the railing was slick with it.

_The crazy bastard... he torched the church. He's killing them all while they pray for deliverance from evil..._

"Rick!" Lori was standing next to the car, coughing as the wind blew the smoke over them all. "Rick, walkers!" Rick saw them only a split second before she said the word, and ran back around to the driver's side. Just before he floored the gas pedal, he saw Kyle and Alexis running back to the Jeep, they'd been staring at the burning church as well, and the walkers all but burst out of the woods as they ran. Hannah was sitting up in the back seat now, her face white and staring at them both.

"Go!" Kyle shouted at Rick. "We're right behind you!"

The woods themselves seemed to vibrate with the sound of a thousand walkers snarling, growling or just moaning, and Alexis speculated that they must have run down the wall like it was little more than cardboard. She reached the Jeep and pulled at the door, then froze as another sound reached her ears. A voice, a human voice, shouting something she couldn't make out but the desperate tone was clear. she looked back towards the road from town as Kyle started the engine, and her heart jumped up into her throat as she caught sight of a woman running as fast as she could, dragging a small child behind her.

"Kyle!" Alexis shouted, but he'd already seen them and was cursing colorfully.

"Get in!" he said, and threw the Jeep into reverse. Alexis grabbed hold of the doorjamb and jumped in just as he floored the gas, backing the Jeep towards the wild-eyed woman and the screaming child. Countless walkers followed behind them both, the child's voice acting as a beacon and drawing them away from the inferno in the center of town.

"Grab that kid as soon as we're close," Kyle shouted, and reached behind the seat for the pump-action shotgun he'd stored there. "I'll cover the woman so she can get in. Okay?"

"Okay!" Alexis shouted back, and leaned out of the open door with her machete in hand. She tried to ignore her pounding heart as Kyle drove them backwards into the advancing horde, which was already starting to close in around their prey on all sides.

"Now!" Kyle pulled up the emergency brake and jumped out, firing three rounds into the crowd and dropping the closest walkers. Alexis heard Hannah scream loudly as she jumped out and ran to the back of the Jeep, but all she could see was the woman's face suddenly wearing a desperately relieved smile. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate and she showed both sets of teeth as she smiled in triumph, picked up the child, who was a little girl no more than two or three years old. Alexis gasped as the woman bodily _threw_ her forward with impressive strength. She dropped the machete and used both arms to catch the girl, who was now screaming in a long, nonstop piercing wail. Kyle shouted something and fired several more shots in quick succession, but the walkers closed in around the woman, and Alexis found herself staring in shocked horror as blood, flesh and bone was being pulled in all directions within seconds.

"Move!" Kyle fired again as several walkers swarmed towards Alexis and the tiny screaming siren in her arms, and the noise jolted her into action. She hooked her foot under the machete on the ground and flipped it up so she could catch the handle with one hand, then dashed back to the Jeep and climbed inside, trying to shush the child and stop her from screaming. In the end, she clamped a hand over the poor thing's mouth and held her against her to muffle the noise as Kyle jumped back into the driver's seat and rolled up the window. The walkers were on them almost immediately, striking the back end and sides, making the vehicle rock violently. Hannah whimpered and curled into a ball on the back seat and pulled the sleeping bag over her head as if she could hide from the nightmare outside.

"We're cut off," Alexis said, staring as more walkers crossed the yellow-flowered field and covered the road. The girl in her lap was still making muffled shrieking noises behind her hand, and Alexis shushed her a few more times before Kyle made a decision and aimed the Jeep at the wide field beyond the barn.

"Hang on," he said, and slammed the stick shift into four-wheel-drive.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, they're <em>gone?<em>" Dale said in alarm, leaning sideways to look in the mirror. He was holding the walkie-talkie in his right hand, steering with his left. Glenn took it from him as Rick spoke again.

"They were right behind me," Rick's voice came across the static-filled air. "I saw them all heading out. Better pull over, Daryl will blow his top if we don't tell him."

"You're damn right he will," Dale muttered, and honked the horn twice to get Daryl's attention up ahead. He waved once in response and pulled over, bringing the caravan to a slow halt. Rick got out of the car and came forward, T-Dog behind him. Dale climbed out as well, gesturing for Glenn and everyone else to stay put.

"Why we stopping?" Daryl asked angrily. "We're barely ten miles out."

"We lost a couple vehicles," said Rick. He'd learned a long time ago it was best to just say it when it came to delivering bad news to Daryl.

"What?" Daryl frowned and stepped into the road, and his frown only deepened when he saw Kyle's Jeep was not there.

"Felipe and Doc are gone, too," said T-Dog. "So are Guillermo and Miguel. We thought they were behind us, but all that smoke made it hard to see. Do you think they ran off the road?"

"Maybe," said Rick, looking back the way they'd just come and hoping they were coming along any moment now.

"Then we go back," said Daryl, and turned towards the motorcycle again as if it was decided.

"We can't," said Rick. "Daryl, _look._" He stepped towards him and took hold of his arm, backing away immediately when Daryl pushed him off with an angry snarl. Daryl looked in the direction he was pointing, and saw what they all saw. Walkers were starting to come into sight, only a few, but it wouldn't take much for more to follow.

"Shit," T-Dog said out loud.

"So what do we do?" Glenn was out of the RV despite being told to wait.

"We stick to the plan," said Rick. "Kyle gave us all road maps for a reason, in case we got separated. We'll head for the prison, and they'll meet us there."

"Are you kidding me?" Daryl shouted. "You want us to just leave?"

"Yeah, I do," said Rick. "I want us all to get as far away from that herd as possible, and you know damn well she'd want you to do just that."

"Oh, no," said Daryl, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You don't get to act all - "

"Hello?" Everyone's walkie-talkies suddenly started making noise at once, and they all grabbed for them. Loud, shrieking feedback pierced all their ears, and Rick gestured for them all to turn theirs down.

"Attention shoppers," Kyle's voice came through to them all, barely audible over what sounded like someone screaming. "Blue-light special on walker bait this week. Anyone interested?"

"Funny," said Rick. "Where the hell are you? And what is that noise?"

"We got cut off," said Kyle. "Walkers swarmed us when we went back for a kid."

"What kid?" Daryl demanded, moving to stand next to Rick so he could hear.

"Where are you now? Have you seen Guillermo and Felipe?" Rick asked.

"I think we're on 82," Kyle said. "Had to go cross country after they cut us off. Lex... shut her up already..." The radio clicked off as Alexis started to shout back at him, and Rick could only imagine how that conversation would go. He was back a moment later, and it was quieter in the background.

"Looking at the map, we could circle around to where you guys are in an hour, but I'm looking at a pile of dead cars and a sixteen-wheeler turned on its side. Don't think we can get to you all easily. But we can jump on 95 and head up to Riedsville. I think. Guillermo and Miguel are with us, we met up with them as soon as we got to the highway. Haven't seen Felipe and the Doc. They missing?"

Rick turned around in place and saw that Glenn had already spread the map out on the hood of the car and was tapping the spot where he estimated them to be.

"They either didn't make it out or they had to go another way," said Rick. "Okay, then... I guess we stick to the plan and head to Riedsville."

"More walkers," Dale reported from the top of the RV, and pointed.

"Stick to the plan," Kyle repeated. "And somebody give Daryl a kiss for Lex, I'm sure she'd ask herself if she didn't have a screaming toddler on her hands."

Everyone looked at Daryl, and he glared at them as if daring them to try.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," said Rick. "Check in at sundown, okay?"

They hurried to get back on the road as the crowd of walkers grew bigger and threatened to shuffle closer. The plan seemed a simple one, and for the rest of the day they drove without incident. Hours later they parked at a rest stop, wide open and paved concrete, and gathered around a low-burning oil lamp for a meal of venison jerky, apples and water. It wasn't much, but they dared no light a fire and nobody was terribly hungry anyway. Rick studied them all in turn as he had so many times before.

Josiah Wilcox had come along with the intention of being with his granddaughter, but now he was the lone newcomer. It didn't seem to bother him a bit, though. He sat quietly in the chair Dale unfolded for him and chewed his tobacco, discreetly spitting into a paper cup from the RV's pantry. Dale attempted to engage him in conversation, but he seemed uninterested and Rick didn't have to guess where his thoughts were.

Carol sat cross-legged on a folded blanket with Sophia's head in her lap, absently stroking her head as she looked up into the night sky. Lori sat beside her, looking off into the distance, Carl at her side looking sleepy but not willing to close his eyes just yet.

Andrea and Glenn were already asleep, she in one of the RV's two bunks, and he in the back seat of T-Dog's Explorer. Their ordeal had left them both exhausted and numb and they had said little before giving up on staying awake. T-Dog and Daryl had both volunteered for watch duty, and given their exposed position, Rick didn't see the harm in a dual watch. They both climbed to the roof of the RV and sat at opposite ends, watching in both directions up and down the highway. Rick didn't have to see them to read them. Daryl's attachment to Alexis was no longer news to any of them, and his tendency to fly off the handle easily had greatly reduced since they had left Atlanta. T-Dog remained as separate from a group as anyone could be. Since Jacqui's death at the CDC, he'd seemed to split off slightly. Always reasonable, smart and quick to laugh, he didn't cut himself off from anyone, but Rick could still sense him drawing away.

"Kindred was a big mistake," he said quietly. Lori and Carol both looked at him, and Josiah spit in his cup without comment.

"We all chose to be there," said Lori. "It wasn't your fault."

Rick reached over and took the hand that she offered him, squeezing it gratefully. In the darkness, Carol smiled at him, and he smiled back. It was always so with her, she looked at everyone without judgement. Kyle finally checked in by walkie a short time later, and reported they were clear of the walkers and safe. The little girl could not be identified, she was perhaps two years old and Hannah did not know her. Her clothes were scorched in places and her hands burned, a gruesome testimony to the possibility that she and her mother had escaped from the burning church. Rick handed the walkie talkie up to Daryl so he could talk to Alexis, but whatever was said was for his ears alone and he returned the walkie afterwards without explanation.

The next morning they were on the road early. Josiah moved to the RV so his "old bones" could rest easy. He also seemed to enjoy teasing Sophia about her doll and trying to make her smile, which she did often after her initial shyness wore off. The ride was uneventful once again, until the day started to grow long and they found themselves looking at a highway overpass just ahead, clogged solid with abandoned cars and trucks. Dale brought the caravan to a stop once again, and they all studied the twisted, seemingly impenetrable mess ahead. Daryl pulled up alongside the RV and paused there, looking ahead.

"See if you can find a way through," Dale suggested. Daryl nodded once and moved ahead. The overpass was narrower than the actual road, and some of the cars looked as if they had collided, which was perhaps what caused the pileup. Whatever the cause, the cars were all empty except for the occasional cadaver, but the further Daryl led them in, the more numerous the dead became. But these were truly dead, the lying down kind as Glenn enjoyed calling them. Daryl maneuvered carefully and slowly through the cars, and for awhile they were making progress.

Naturally, that was when the antiquated radiator hose on the RV decided to blow out with a loud, steamy bang, and the RV's engine shuddered to a halt.

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

><p><strong>Song Lyrics:<strong> Mumford and Sons, _After the Storm_

Well... guess what, people? This chapter concludes _The Coming Storm_. I didn't say THE END, though, did I? Thank you everybody who stayed on through the whole ride. This is the longest chapter I've written on this thing yet and my fingers are sore.

Thank you to:

lg0131  
>pitbullsrok<br>Tenderloin Baby  
>viktorskrumpet<br>JoanieNobody  
>Azalia Fox Knightling<br>DarknessNLight69  
>Nelle07<br>AvidReaderWolf  
>Azure's Temptation<br>GingerGidget  
>xXBXx<br>SaraLostInes  
>SpringsteensGirl<br>musicforsanity  
>FallenLily366<br>Alina Maxwell  
>skridge<br>mvolner  
>Abbll<br>tansy  
>TripleLLL<br>colormenikki  
>Acoustix<br>ChaosUmbrella  
>Readergirl66<br>nekuranekomegami  
>Karrot<br>tomtom1995  
>Anea the Morwinyon<br>DarkNinja24k  
>Jlily<br>AudioRKO  
>earlgreyy<p>

... and anyone else who reviewed. Thank you all so much. Part three will begin soon...


End file.

Walking Dead, Drama, Horror