Chapter One
"All things are going to die. I'm going to die. Your mother's going to die. You need to learn to protect yourself."
-Rick Grimes
"Please," Sammi whispers, stroking Ryder's arm gently, "please, don't let me die here."
"You think I'd leave you here while I go out to get medicine? No. I can't risk it. There are too many walkers."
"Ryder," she says, "you know if you stay here I'll die before sunrise."
A tear slips down Ryder's cheek. "I know. But I want to be here to say goodbye. I don't want to just come back and…" She closes her eyes and swallows down a lump in her throat. A few stray tears squeeze through her shut eyelids.
Sammi looks up at her and grabs her hand. "Just"-she coughs loudly—"just go. Please."
Ryder looks down at her and smiles sadly. She caresses her cheek, knowing very well that Sammi may be dead before sundown. "Okay," she whispers, "okay. Goodbye, Sammi. I—I love you." She leans down and kisses her forehead.
And then, just like that, she's gone. She picks up her bike and pedals off to town, in desperate need of something, anything, to keep her baby sister alive.
She pedals as fast as she can, making the familiar trip to the town nearest to their camp by the trailer park. Her stomach growls. She tries to ignore it, but after about half an hour, it's impossible to ignore her malnourishment.
"God dangit," she mutters, pulling over on her bike to rest. She wheezes and coughs, starving. Ryder closes her eyes and rests for a few moments.
After a few minutes, she stands back up, and black spots decorate her vision. She rocks back and forth, like a sailor back on land after a long journey out at sea. She stumbles, grabbing her bike to keep herself from falling.
She can't go much farther. She knows that. But she pedals anyway, aware that stopping will mean the death of Sammi.
The bike is unsteady now. It wobbles and turns. Ryder nearly falls off several times, but manages to right herself before getting hurt. But it's impossible to go forever without food. Her stomach burns, and her head throbs. She needs to stop.
But she keeps going.
Her feet move slowly, deliberately, as if moving against molasses. Her eyes close. She's so tired. One little rest couldn't hurt…
Those are her last thoughts before she's flung off of the bike. She is already unconscious by now, and her eyes are closed almost blissfully as the bike topples over into a pile of sharp rocks. Her head hits a large one, and it pierces her skin deeply. Blood flows down her head and into her sleeping eyes.
She lays there for nearly an hour. Dying. Starving. She can't help Sammi now. She can't even help herself.
A half an hour before Ryder set out for food, another team was preparing for a different journey.
"Sofia has to be out there somewhere," Carol says, looking up at Rick with tears in her eyes. "Please, don't give up the search. I have to be sure."
"She's not out there," Shane argues. "I know it's hard to admit, but we aren't going to find your daughter."
"We'll keep looking," Daryl says sharply, looking up from his crossbow. "I won't stop 'till we find that little girl."
Carol makes something resembling a smile. Although nothing can keep her mind off of Sofia, Daryl certainly can distract her.
"Then it's settled." Rick unfolds a map of the area surrounding their farm. "We'll keep looking. Shane and Andrea will search around the perimeter of the farm and the beginning of the woods. Carol and Lori will go…" He examines the map for a minute, in deep thought. "Here." He circles a small area with his pointer finger. "And Glenn, Daryl and I will search the outskirts of the woods and the highway. She's got to be somewhere."
"What about me?" Maggie asks, stepping forward. "I want to help."
Rick shakes his head. "Hershell needs you at the farm. On lookout. For medical help."
She sighs. "Fine. I'll stay."
Rick nods, and everyone goes to their search partners for the day. Glenn approaches Rick slowly, adjusting the hat on his head to keep out the sun. "You ready to go?"
"As soon as Daryl is."
Daryl shoves an arrow into his crossbow. "Let's go."
They all grab their weapons and begin the walk toward the highway. Daryl raises his crossbow, prepared for any walkers who might try to surprise them.
They stomp through the woods quietly, careful not to draw attention to themselves. Every day is like this, in careful secrecy. Being loud would mean risking your safety and the safety of the group.
When they're about halfway to the highway, Glenn stops. "Wait. Look." He points to a bike, laying sideways on the ground.
And next to it, a trail of blood.
Daryl raises his crossbow. "'S it a walker?"
"I don't know." He leans down to get a closer look at the bloodstains. He follows it to a bush that looks recently disturbed.
"I'm going to look," Glenn says. "Get ready."
He pushes apart the bush to see through it. He is appalled and astonished by what he sees.
"Guys," he says, "you might want to check this out."
In that bush is not a walker. It is not an animal, or a person waiting to attack the group of men.
Inside that bush is Ryder.
"It's a little girl!" Glenn exclaims, standing up. "She looks hurt."
"She ain't dead, is she?" Daryl asks, still cautious.
"No," Glenn says. "But she looks unconscious."
Rick leans down to look at the girl. "She won't live for long."
"We have to help her," Glenn says, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"She's not our problem." Daryl swings his crossbow back around his shoulders, prepared to keep searching for Sofia.
"We can't just leave her there!" Glenn says.
There are a few silent moments of awkward decision. Then, Rick says, "Fine. We'll take her back to Hershell."
Glenn leans down to pick up Ryder, but Daryl puts an arm out in front of him. "I'll carry her."
He leans over and puts the girl in his arms. With a nod at Rick, they start running back to the farm.
Back at the farm, Maggie wrings her hands, worried about Glenn. "You think they'll come back safe?" She asks her father.
"Of course they will. Why are you worried about them, anyway?" Hershell asks, looking up at her.
Maggie blushes. "Um—no reason."
Hershell squints his eyes. He knows she's lying. "Why do you like that Asian boy so much?"
"His name is Glenn," she snaps.
Their argument is interrupted by screaming. They both stand and rush outside, looking for the source of the retched sound.
Running into the farm are Daryl, Glenn, and Rick. Daryl holds a small child in his arms; she looks just a little older than Carl, maybe eleven or twelve. Glenn and Rick run behind him, covered in blood and walker guts.
"We have injured!" Rick shouts hoarsely.
"What happened? Is everyone alright?" Maggie asks, running towards Glenn. Hershell sticks an arm out to stop her, shaking his head.
"We're fine, but she needs help," Daryl says, out of breath.
"Bring her inside. I'll do what I can," Hershell says, walking into the farmhouse.
The bloody group reaches the porch of the farmhouse. Daryl goes automatically inside, while Glenn walks into Maggie's arms.
"Are you alright?" Maggie asks, searching his arms for bites.
He smiles and gently pulls her arms away. "Nothing too serious. Just met a few walkers on the road. And…"
Rick clears his throat, trying to get Glenn's attention. He breaks free of Maggie's arms and turns to face Rick. "Yeah?"
"Those walkers we saw out there… Do you think the herd will find the farm?"
"A herd?" Maggie looks at Glenn accusingly. "I thought you said it was just a few walkers."
"By a few, I meant…."
"A lot." Rick finished, stepping inside. "Be prepared for a fight."
Inside the farmhouse, Hershell stands over Ryder, who is laying on a bed in one of the spare bedrooms. "She looks malnourished. We'll have to give her some food, strengthen her up. And this head wound isn't very pretty, either."
"Will she make it?"
"Most likely, yes. But there's always a possibility." Hershell looks up at him, dead serious. "We need a run into town for food. Medical supplies."
"I'll ask Glenn and Maggie if they want to go."
"Good," Hershell says, "good."