"Is that the last of it?" Carl lunged into view carrying two large cans of peas. Rick brushed the hair out of his sweaty face and nodded.

"Michonne cleared out the basement." He responded and opened the backpack so Carl could deposit the goods. "And Daryl is still on lookout."

"Maybe one day we can eat a full meal again. Not just the scraps we find left behind." Carl said with hope.

"Maybe." Rick agreed stiffly. There was a sound behind them and they both turned to see Michonne emerging from the basement door.

"Nothing but water damage and spiders down there." She announced.

"Any walkers?" Rick inquired, zipping the backpack and throwing it onto his shoulder.

"No. This place is empty."

"How big were the spiders?" Carl asked. Michonne set her hands about two feet apart from one another.

"This big." She joked then clamped her hands on his head and gently shook it. They shared a laugh just as the door to the house opened. Daryl stood with his crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"There's abou' a dozen walkers goin' down the street. They don' seem to know we're here."

"We're going south anyway. We can avoid them." Rick led them from the house. The sky was blocked out by thick, heavy, dark clouds and gusts of wind blew stray debris around the area.

"We should start looking for a place to spend the night." Rick suggested as they traversed down the middle of the road. "It'll be dark and cold soon."

"There were houses a few miles south that were mostly intact." Michonne said.

"And Terminus is still out of reach. First thing tomorrow morning we'll set out and finish the journey."

"Maybe we should look for a car." Daryl said and rapped his knuckles against an old Honda as he passed it. The battery had been taken out of this one however, and would be completely out of the question. Several cars sat in either the driveways or the middle of a lawn.

"Not if we need to follow the railroad tracks." Rick said.

"We can find a road that follows the tracks closely, and then abandon it when we can't go any further." Carl interjected. A sound startled the group and each one of them leapt into action, grabbing the closest weapon on them. The sound emitted from behind a rusted truck. A female walker staggered into view, gurgling and growling. Daryl raised his crossbow for a shot and the others lowered their weapons. Rick and Carl's guns would cause too much noise. Michonne was too far away for a good hit with her katana. Upon spotting the group, the walker became agitated, snarled louder, and plodded on faster to reach them. In front of the walker was a circular metal plate resting on the ground. A tiny red light caught Carl's eye.

"Dad…" Carl whispered. Rick turned an eye to his son. "What is that?" And the boy pointed. Before anyone could focus on it, the walker's clumsy steps brought it right on top of it, and kicked it. There was a tense pause, then an earth shattering explosion. The walker was blown to bits and the four humans were blasted back from the force. Rick lunged at Carl, shielding him from heat. There was a blinding white light, then darkness. Rick lifted himself up. Spots danced in his eyes and his ears were ringing. Carl was curled up on the ground with his fingers pressing his ears closed. Michonne stood up first and she whipped her katana out of the scabbard.

"Holy shit." Rick grunted and shot off the ground. To nobody's surprise, the blast had attracted walkers. Coming from the north, were walkers beyond count, each one was stumbling furiously to reach the group.

"Go!" Rick shouted. The group bolted and ran in the opposite direction. Not caring how much noise they made now, Rick and Carl began firing at walkers coming out from between houses on either side of them. Daryl shot arrows into the ones that got too close. Michonne hacked and slashed the heads off the others.

"Head back down the road!" Rick shouted over the commotion. He almost careened into Daryl as the two of them had to split away from Michonne and Carl. A line of walkers were clogging the destination. The sky was darkening with thick, black clouds and the ability to see clearly was dwindling. Rick heard shots from Carl and his pistol far to the right, but couldn't see past the sea of staggering, rotting, snarling corpses. The stench of them was nauseating like a burning pit of trash. One could never grow accustomed to the smell. Daryl ran in front of him, out of arrows and viciously thrusting his dagger into the craniums of any walker that reached for him. Rick switched his hunting knife, fresh out of bullets. A flash of silver caught his eye as he watched Michonne briefly come into view, hacking a large male walker in front her. Carl was close behind and still firing into the masses. A crack of thunder overhead made the hair on the back of Rick's neck rise.

"Daryl! We have to get off the road!" He snapped once close enough to Daryl.

"No shit!" He snapped back and charged forward.

"Follow me." Rick dispatched a walker behind him. The herd had thinned when they made their way through North street. A number of abandoned cars had blocked the way and the walkers got stuck against them and confused. "We need to find a house."

"Where's Michonne and Carl?"

"I saw them running to the east. Not many walkers were on their tail. It looked like they were going back to town." Rain began to pour down, blinding them more and only the flashes of lightning briefly provided the way. "This way!" Rick's voice was lost in crack of thunder. The storm would bode well for them, their scent and sound would be masked long enough for them to escape.

At the end of the street on the left was a sturdy looking house. It still appeared abandoned, a window was smashed through on the bottom floor and there was trash and clothes littering the lawn. Rick turned as he ran to see a couple of walkers that had managed to follow them through. Daryl was first to the door. He readied his dagger and swiftly kicked the door open. It cracked open and fell off its hinges.

"Shit!" Two walkers were inside, hovering by the couches. Upon seeing Daryl, they snarled and lunged for him. Rick paused to take out the walker closest to the stairs as he ascended. The walker inside shoved Daryl against the doorframe and clicked its teeth near his face. With a forceful stab to the side of the head, he killed it and flung it down the steps into the ones that were trying to come up. Rick jumped through the door and stabbed the remaining one in the head. Daryl moved out of the doorway and helped Rick as they raised the door back up and forced it against the gaping entrance. The walkers growled and clawed at the wood as Rick and Daryl tried to put the door back and hold them off. Rick shivered and turned to see a third walker from inside the house approaching them quickly. Abandoning Daryl, he grabbed his dagger and plunged it into its head. The door fell forward and cracked against Daryl's head as he tried to hold them back. Rick returned and shoved his full strength against the door, forcing the walkers back onto the porch.

"Damn it Rick!" Daryl muttered.

"There was one more in here!" Rick said back. "Hold the door, I'm going to push the couch against it. The other said nothing and stood in the center of the door to hold it. Rick kicked the carpet out of the way and dragged the heavy sectional over to the doorway.

"Move!" He commanded Daryl. The other man leapt away and helped Rick shove the couch into the door. It held well from the angle, but Rick lifted an armchair and threw it on top for extra weight. There was a window beside the door, a panel of glass missing. Rick sidestepped and rapped on the window as Daryl braced the couch. The door was holding, but three walkers leaning on it was pushing the couch gradually back. The tapping on the glass attracted one walker and it pressed its partially shredded and rotted face into the window. Rick stabbed it in the head through the hole in the glass. The action got the attention of the other one, then the last one as he stabbed them both through the glass hole, cutting his arm as he pulled it back through. A fork of lightning illuminated the entire home briefly in an eerie white light.

"Barricade all the windows and doors. I'll check out the rest of the house." Rick directed.

There had been only three walkers in the home. It was a very small house with only two cramped floors. The one bedroom was located on the top floor tucked behind a bathroom and linen closet. Daryl had effectively blocked the only exit with heavy furniture and pushed a bookshelf in front of the damaged window. The other window was in the kitchen, and too high up for a walker to get into. The kitchen had been thoroughly ransacked and the only thing left was a damaged can of green beans. The rain lashed at the house from outside, as eager to get in as the walkers.

Daryl was seated on the floor when Rick returned from the upstairs. He wrapped a thin cloth around his wounded arm. It was pitch black in the house and they were both soaking wet with rainwater. Fortunately, Rick had a small flashlight he was using currently to navigate the disheveled rooms. Daryl had a hand to his head, where the door had hit him.

"You all right?" Rick asked in concern. He hoped he hadn't given him a concussion, or any other head injury.

"M'fine." He muttered and instantly dropped his hand to ground. "So what now?"

"We wait here until morning. Wait until that herd clears out. No doubt they'll be wandering about."

"Did ya see where Michonne and Carl went?"

"To the next town over. The one we went through to get here. They'll be fine. I know it." A rumble of thunder interrupted him.

"They should." Daryl got to his feet. "Carl has all the ammo."

The faintest twitch of a smile played on Rick's face. But it died as soon as it came.

"I'm going to dry off. And we should get some sleep before tomorrow. We'll leave as soon as it's light." Rick advised and slowly back off toward the stairs. Daryl didn't look at him but nodded.

Rick found a few dry towels in the upstairs bathroom under the sink. He patted everything dry and stripped off the soaked jacket. Underneath, his shirt was damp. The bathroom had been in decent shape, but as expected, no lights turned on and the plumbing wasn't working. Holding the flashlight between his teeth, he dried himself as best as possible before tossing the towel into the tub. Everything in this house had been cleaned out. Good and bad. Good, maybe nobody would come back for it anytime soon. Bad, they needed supplies. Carl had been carrying nearly all of it.

Rick stepped back into the tiny bedroom and flinched when he saw a dark shape lying on the bed. He directed the flashlight over the figure and relaxed when he saw that it was only Daryl sleeping on the left side. Lowering the flashlight, he made his way to the other side of the bed to sit. The second the mattress depressed and creaked, Daryl shot up like a spooked cat.

"It's just me." Rick said softly. "There's towels in the bathroom if you want to dry off."

"Mm." Daryl mumbled and turned back over. "This the only bedroom?"

"Yeah." Rick kicked off his shoes but stayed sitting. Slowly, Daryl peeled himself off the bed and went to the bathroom. He left the door open and from the corner of his eye, Rick watched him towel off his hair and wipe the water from his shirt and vest. Rick balanced the flashlight on the butt end to stand it up on the table beside him. It did a fair enough job to light up the room. Later, he'd turn it off soon to avoid attracting anyone's' attention. No doubt the soft, blue light could be seen from the window. He placed the hunting knife on the night stand too.

The bed was covered with an arsenal of blankets. All of which appeared to be clean. The drawers in the room had been plundered already. Rick put his legs under a few to warm them. There was no heat in the house, and no way to light a fire. Daryl returned looking less like a drowned coyote and lay back down on his side of the bed, avoiding Rick's eyes.

Rick looked at Daryl then at the flashlight.

"I'm going to turn this off." He warned.

"M'kay."

Rick switched the flashlight off and plunged them into utter darkness. The thunder had seemingly stopped, but the rain continued on, splattering noisily on the roof. The man slouched down into the bed to lay his head on the pillow and covered himself with some of the blankets.

"Why do you think there was a mine lyin' in the middle of the road?" Daryl asked in a low whisper. Rick froze to listen.

"I have no idea. But it can't be an accident or chance. This is a suburban neighborhood, not a military base or city. It doesn't make sense for it to be there."

"Think someone's tracking us?"

"What do you think?"

"I think it was left there on purpose. For us…or for someone else…" Daryl rolled onto his back. Rick couldn't see him but he could feel the mattress moving with him.

"Whoever," Rick spoke into the darkness, "I think we got away from them. Doubt they could see us through all of that confusion."

"Or maybe nobody was watchin'." Daryl suggested. "Maybe it was jus' a fluke."

Rick nodded but stayed quiet.

"You said you were with Beth. Where is she?"

Daryl took a while answer. He had gone very still, but finally his head moved and he said,

"I lost her. She isn't dead…she's just…gone." The rain grew heavier and it became difficult to hear him. "We were overrun by walkers and this car with a white cross on the back jus'…drove by and took her."

"We'll get her back." Rick said with determination. "We'll get everyone back." He whispered.

Rick woke himself up with a sudden jolt and stared at the ceiling above him. His eyes adjusted to the dark and gradually shapes of the room and furniture formed. The rain had stopped the house was filled with a deafening silence. Coming through the window was the light of moon, showing off a sliver of the bedroom wall.

"Ya all righ'?" Daryl grumbled next to him. He was laying on his side facing Rick.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just forgot where I was."

"Ya said 'Carl' in your sleep."

"I did?"

"A few minutes ago. Ya worried about him?"

"Carl and Michonne can handle themselves. I just hope they found a good shelter." He rolled over to look at Daryl. The hunter seemed a little put off by it and rolled onto his back.

"I know you injured your head earlier. How do you feel?"

"Fine."

"How do you really feel?"

"Fine." Daryl insisted stubbornly.

"You don't have any blankets on you."

"Not that cold."

Rick sighed and stared at him. The hunter's long hair was wispy around his face and ears, uncut and untamed. It was a good look for him. He had kept his vest on as he slept, as well as his boots that hung over the edge of the bedframe. Rick was almost touching his arm as he leaned slightly closer. The bed wasn't very wide or long as he was on the edge of it and still touching the other man. Daryl turned his head, finally addressing Rick's behavior.

"What?" He inquired, unsure of Rick's focused gaze. Without a word, or a single thought, Rick bent forward and pressed his lips hungrily against Daryl's. The other man flinched and stiffened in alarm. After a moment of paralyzed shock, he put his hands on Rick's chest to push him off. The kiss broke and they stared at one another in complete silence. Rick was gripping Daryl's shoulder with one hand, the other holding him up off him. His stare was a quiet panic, waiting for the hunter's reaction, but it was unreadable. In the next second, Daryl squirmed out from underneath Rick and left the bed, quickly disappearing into the hallway. Rick clenched a fist and jammed it against the wall behind and muttered,

"Damn it." He wasn't surprised Daryl had reacted the way he did. Hell, he wasn't even sure why he kissed him. It had felt right in his head. He didn't bother going after him. He knew it wouldn't matter or it would just anger Daryl more. Rolling over and gathering the blankets, he pulled them over his head and curled up facing the wall, preparing to sleep until he woke and he wouldn't have been surprised if Daryl was gone in the morning.

Rick heard light footsteps coming to bedroom no more than ten minutes later. He stiffened and waited, expecting an intruder even though it wasn't likely. The hunting knife was on the night stand. He snaked an arm up and prepared to reach for it.

"Rick?" He recognized Daryl's voice in an instant. Throwing the blankets off him, he moved to look for Daryl in the darkness.

"What?" He responded. The other man said nothing and walked around to Rick's side of the bed. The darkness obscured his face and most of his detail for that matter. Rick sat up, wondering if Daryl was hurt or something had happened. He watched as Daryl crawled onto the bed above him. Before Rick could react, Daryl claimed his mouth and pushed him back down against the mattress. Rick's head sunk into the pillow. He gave a quiet sigh and raked his fingers through Daryl's hair. Relief washed over him followed by a hot bolt of adrenaline. So he isn't repulsed? Rick thought. Daryl slipped his tongue past Rick's lips and none to shyly brushed them together. Carefully, Rick moved to place his hands around the other's waist, dipping his fingers beneath the fabric of his shirt and kneading his skin. Daryl broke away briefly to catch his breath. Both of his hands were on Rick's shoulders to steady himself. Again he bent his head to kiss Rick, this time with more fervor, more hunger, more desire. Moving his left leg to the side and his left hand to Daryl's bicep, Rick prepared to do something that would make or break this.

With a swift, forceful motion, Rick threw Daryl to the other side of the bed and switched positions. Acting quickly to reclaim the moment, his lips went to Daryl's neck, kissing tenderly. There was a sharp intake of breath from him and Rick felt his body writhing like snake under his. The hunter's hands gripped Rick's arms then searched for the hem of his shirt to tug it off. Daryl was shivering on top of all his other movements. His clothing was still damp from the rain and cool. No doubt it was making him uncomfortable and cold. Rick slipped his hands beneath Daryl's vest and stripped it off, dropping it to the floor. Rick's shirt slid off his body soon after and Daryl tossed it aside. The silence of the room was filled with their heavy and hesitant breathing. Both wondered what would be the one movement to unravel the intimate dance. And yet neither worried. Rick knew he had spent months, almost a year without this. Needless to say, it was getting on his nerves. When Daryl came onto him, it was evident this was desired by both.

"Your belt on?" Rick asked in a husky voice. The last thing he wanted was to be sliced by Daryl's hunting knife.

"Yeah." His reply was just as raspy and he went for his belt. Grabbing his hands to stop him, Rick then slipped his own fingers around the belt buckle and undid the pin. Daryl lay still, his chest heaving slightly from the touches. Slowly, Rick pulled Daryl's belt through the loops and dropped it to the floor with a small thud. Leaning back down, Rick claimed his mouth with a heated kiss and clashed his tongue with Daryl's. Lower, he guided his hands under Daryl's shirt, pulled each button apart and divested him of it. He wasn't sure if the slow and gentle ministrations were doing it for Daryl or just making him impatient. Two clunks sounded from behind him and he recognized it as Daryl's boots hitting the floor. Rick quickly pulled the shirt away from Daryl and lay back against him, hoping to warm him as well. Their feet struck the end of bed and the wooden frame creaked. Moving up to hover over him and stop putting weight on the frame, Rick kissed a slow trail of kisses up the hunter's neck. Daryl's back arched slightly in pleasure and his hands went to undo Rick's jeans. Rick undid Daryl's and began to tug them off when the hunter's hands grabbed his arms.

"Um…wait…I don't…" He mumbled, looking uncomfortable. Rick paused and tried to look into his eyes through the darkness. They were avoiding his and he had gotten a little tense. "Not that far." He finally said. Rick nodded.

"It's okay." The last thing he wanted was to scare Daryl away or push him. "How far?"

"Hands." He muttered, looking almost embarrassed.

"Okay." Rick lay against him and kissed his neck, lower he slipped a hand into Daryl's pants. The effect was immediate and Daryl bucked his hips and sighed in pleasure. His fingers clawed the other's back. Returning the favor, Daryl navigated a hand to Rick. Small gasps and moans answered one another.

Their lips clashed and Daryl's skin was warm. His eyes rolled back and his back arched. Rick's breath kept hitching and he knew it was coming to a close. Daryl succumbed first, bowing his spine and giving a heavy but pleased sigh. Rick sank his teeth into the pillow behind him rather than his shoulder and collapsed onto Daryl, panting heavily. He rolled off to the side, withdrawing his limbs. Daryl's eyes had closed and he shifted onto his side to look at Rick.

"We don't tell anyone shit abou' this." He whispered.

"No. We won't tell anyone about any of this." Rick agreed in the same tone. The room had grown lighter with morning approaching. Soon they would have to set out and find Carl and Michonne.

"This will be our secret."