Chapter 1

Daryl looked over at Beth as if in a trance. She had her hand over her mouth, and it was shaking. It was shaking because she was screaming. His head was buzzing. He felt like he was underwater as his brain tried to make sense of what he was seeing. There in front of them was Carl Grimes, or what was left of him. He was lying dead in the street just a few feet in front of them. Piled around him were the decimated corpses of numerous walkers.

He pulled Beth tight against his body, shielding her from the gruesome sight of the boy they both loved. After all these weeks spent looking for the others, it was the cruelest of fates that the only person from their family they'd find was no more. But to Daryl, that wasn't even the worst part. Looking over the body he noticed that between Carl's eyes was one neat bullet hole.

Daryl saw that Carl had been attacked and bit on his neck. Blood has completely saturated his cotton t-shirt making it impossible to tell what color it had once been. No hope to save him with an amputation, not with a wound like that. But before he was torn to shreds by the walkers someone had been merciful to him. From the size and placement of the bullet hole, Daryl guessed the shooter also had deadly accuracy with a powerful handgun. Kind of like the Colt Python Rick always carried. Daryl hated where his mind was going but he felt in his gut that Rick had been with Carl when this happened and he had been the one to end his own son's life.

That meant he was out there right now. From the condition of Carl's body, Daryl guessed he hadn't been dead long, a couple of hours at the most. Rick could be somewhere close by. Whether he was alive or not was anyone's guess.

Motioning for Beth to stay still so as not to trample any evidence, Daryl immediately starting moving around the space looking for footprints, or clues of any sort so he could begin tracking Rick. Thinking that their leader, his brother, was out there right now suffering such unimaginable pain had Daryl frenzied. He was filled with a desperate need to find him and do whatever he could to help him. He remembered after Lori died, how Rick had almost not made it back from the brink of insanity. Now to lose his son so cruelly? It was a blow that most couldn't survive. Daryl couldn't stand the thought of Rick in that much pain.

Beth notices something in a bush about forty-yards north. She leans into Daryl to point out the object. He motions for her to follow and they head over to check it out.

As they moved in closer, they both visibly blanche when they see what's stuck in the branches, Carl's sheriff's hat. It's so high up and at such an odd angle, that Daryl has to jump up to grab it. It almost looks as if it was dropped from the sky. He hands it down to Beth. She holds it reverently and carefully brushes some of the dirt off of it. She cradles it against her breast as silent tears streak down her cheeks.

Daryl knew Carl never went anywhere without that hat. It must have fallen off when he was attacked, and then what? Blown by the wind fifty yards to land high up in this here bush? That made no sense. Maybe Rick saw it lying on the ground near his son's dead body and took it? That was at least plausible. But why would it be so high up and at such an odd angle? It was too heavy to blow up there from the just the wind alone. And if Rick did take it, why was it here now?

Scanning the street around them, he took note of the strip of dilapidated stores lining the cracked sidewalks. This town looked like it had been struggling to survive before the turn. He could plainly see a few of the stores were vacant, and not from looters. A few yards from the stores was an old fashioned white church with a big majestic steeple. At one point, this town had been thriving enough to build this impressive church. Daryl could see there was an open part in the steeple with real church bells peeking out. He mentally judged the distance between the height of the church bells and the bush that they found the hat. It was possible, if the hat was thrown, that it could have landed at the distance and angle they found it on the branches.

With a heavy-heart, he scanned the ground below the church steeple. He could think of only one reason Rick would be up in that steeple after the death of his son, to end his own life. He frantically scanned the area and breathed a sigh of relief when the ground

surrounding the steeple was clear.

"C'mon," he motioned to Beth, "we're going in."

Grabbing their knives, they readied to go into the church. The door opened easy with just a slight push. There was two slaughtered walkers in the church's center aisle, and one still staggering around. Thing was, it was banging itself against a closed door on the far side of the church until it noticed them.

Motioning for Beth that he had it covered, he advanced quickly on the walker and stabbed it in the head. It dropped like a stone. Kicking it away from the door, he pulled the it open to reveal a narrow staircase. Looking back for Beth he saw she had already made her way over to him and was standing right behind him. He looked up at the steep stairs dubiously.

"We have to look," she said understanding his hesitancy.

He nodded and started up the creaky wooden stairs. On the third step he saw some blood drops. Every step he advanced on, he was finding more. Coming to the top of the staircase, he saw a small landing with a wide open door, leading to the bell tower. Daryl could see the bright skies and feel the fresh air on his face as he moved forward. There was more blood on the floor. Then he spotted it, a man's legs peeking out from the far side of the bells. He recognized those boots.

Rick.

But was he still alive, or already gone?