The prison had fallen. The prison, his home, was gone. The fences were down, the dead were piling in, and his father was nowhere to be seen. The bus was leaving, maybe he was on the bus. Maybe he was in the prison. Maybe he was dead. Maybe Carl was dead. Maybe everyone and everything was dead.

There was a clarity to Carl's thoughts as he ran from the building that once housed his salvation. He had to survive, that he knew. He knew that he should have been sad, scared, angry, something, but he was just numb and cold on the inside. He clutched the gun in his hand, felt the one on his belt, and felt the weight of the knife strapped to his arm. He had weapons. He needed food, water, and shelter.

It was like someone poured cold water inside of him. He wanted to make himself feel something, anything, but at the same time he didn't. He needed to live. He needed to live to fight another day. Then what? Did he need to live to survive? What was the point of all this?

He walked through the woods surrounding the prison. For how long he did not know. In what direction he did not know. It didn't matter. The entire world was dead. The last good place, the last oasis in this world was gone. He should have shot the Governor when he had the chance. He should have stayed with his dad. He should have done a lot of things.

He was coming up on some houses now. Houses meant food and water. Houses meant a shelter from this mess. Houses meant he would live to fight another day. He went to the first house he saw. A big one, bigger than the one he lived in with his family before the world went to hell. A rich family must have lived there. Rich. Poor. The only thing that matter was survival.

He threw himself into the door. He was too weak to open it. He was too weak to make the shot. He was too weak for this world. He sank to his knees, his hat dipping over his eyes. How long he stayed like that he did not know. He smelled them before he heard them. It was a familiar stench now. He lifted his head and saw them shuffling. He got up and ran to live. He ran to live to fight another day.

Rick called for his son. He called and called and got no response. He ran all around the prison with Michonne at his heals searching for his son. His ribs burned, his legs ached, his head swam. He had one thing on his mind and the one thing was Carl. He needed his boy now more than ever. He had already seen the blood in his daughter's car seat. He needed to find his son or at least what was left of him.

"Rick…we've got to go…" said Michonne putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Carl! We do not leave without Carl!" said Rick, his voice drawing over the dead. Michonne expertly took their heads off with her sword.

"Rick, maybe he's on the bus with the others." Said Michonne. She needed to get away from here. She needed to get away. It was gone and they needed to get away. This world took everything good eventually. She had let herself get too complacent.

"Inside…maybe he's inside." Said Rick before taking off into the prison with a surprising amount of speed for a man who had just been shot in the leg and then beaten practically to death.

"We need to go." Said Michonne to herself before following Rick into what was once their home. Rick called his son while Michonne took care of the death he attracted. When he wasn't doing that she was looting the possessions of her former friends looking for food, water, medicine, anything they could use.

"Michonne! Michonne!" called Rick from a short ways away. They needed to go. He needed rest. This place was gone. The world took it. She went to him before the world took him away too.

"Help me…help me move him." said Rick as he made a move to drag Glenn away from the half blown out catwalk. They went deep into the prison where they could lock themselves in for the night. Michonne knew that they couldn't leave now, with Glenn like this. She couldn't let the world take him away too.

The world went by in a blur and Daryl and Beth rode away from their home. They did not know where they were going, only that they needed to get away. They headed south for no particular reason. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them had anything to say. It wasn't as if they could he heard over the roar of the engine or the rush of the wind. They rode until they came upon a group of the dead feasting on something in the road.

Beth leaned over to his ear. Her blonde hair, loose from its braid whipping behind her as they slowed down some to maneuver around the dead as they blocked part of the poorly maintained road. Though Daryl could not see it her eyes were steeled. Her face was a mask, a caricature of what it should have been.

"Stop." Said Beth. The absolution in her voice made him obey. She jumped from his bike before it totally stopped. He was tempted to tell her how dangerous that was but he was still mute from the events of the day. In her hand was a knife. In his hands was his crossbow. He walked a step behind her as she approached the dead.

Beth let out an inhuman screamed as she plunged her knife into the soft, rotting skull of what was once a man. She had red in books about people seeing red and now she was experiencing this for herself. She heard the crack and the whoosh of Daryl's arrows and crossbow. She saw the head of a particularly rotted dead practically disintegrate before her eyes. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore. Everything she cared about the world took away. Anything good and right the world took away. Soon the world would take her away. That didn't mean that she couldn't take some of the dead away with her.

"Beth…Beth let's go." Said Daryl, his hand on her shoulder. She was stabbing a dead one, a woman know. The dead was no longer animated but Beth still stabbed it. She cried as she did this. She cried for her father. She cried for her mother. She cried for her sister. She cried for everyone she had ever lost. When she was done crying she screamed.

Daryl could only pull her close to him. He needed her as much as she needed him. He had lost everyone. Maybe they were alive but that was a big maybe nowadays. Daryl was not the type to hold or be held but right now he needed to hold this girl to make sure that she was still alive. She was the only living thing he had left and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

She was screaming into his chest now. His body muffled her anguish but not so much that more of the dead weren't attracted. Everything was gone but they had to keep going. They had to survive just to keep on surviving. He pulled her to her feet and put her back on the bike. They needed shelter. They needed food. They needed water. They needed each other.

The bus. They needed to catch up to the bus. Maggie, Sasha, and Bob had managed to get away from the prison. They had managed to survive which was, in this world, a gift. For Maggie it wasn't enough. They needed to find the others, regroup, and then come back and search for survivors. They needed to come back and search for Glenn and Beth.

Maggie clung to this plan like a dying man would cling to the first source of water he could find in the desert. She went over and over and over the plan in her mind. Doing this kept her from thinking about her father. Doing this kept her from thinking about the glint of the blade as it caught the sunlight, the sickening cracking sound as it met bone, and the deep red that poured from her father's neck.

She needed to find Glenn and Beth so that she would not be an orphan in this world. She had a family. She had people and they had to still have been alive. She would not let them die. She had seen so very many people die since the beginning of this thing. She had seen even more people die since meeting the group. A sick part of her thought that she might have been better off if she had never met Rick Grimes and his band of merry men. Her family would still be alive and she would have never met Glenn. If she had never met Glenn then she wouldn't be feeling this pain that came from missing him.

Sasha knew, logically, that going back was the worst thing that they could have done. They needed to catch up to the bus and regroup with the others. The bus had food and other supplies. Not many but enough to treat Bob's wound. She could not let him die. Enough people had died. She needed to get back to the bus and then go back and search for survivors.

Bob was actually in good spirits. He had seen two groups before this die but he was not alone. He was with Sasha and Maggie and that was good. Maybe he was cursed. Three groups that he was a part of and three groups he was a survivor from. Somebody better call Guinness…or maybe Ripley if he was still alive. He always liked those books. Maybe he was cursed or maybe this was just how the world was now. He didn't care what happened now, he only cared that he wasn't alone.

Later on Tyreese would reflect upon this day, this day when everything went wrong. No, he would reflect upon this world. He would reflect upon this world where old men got their heads chopped up, little girls shot people in the head, and good women were burned to death. However, there was no time for reflection now. He had to keep these girls alive now.

Judith stirred in his arms. He felt sympathy for her. For Judith this was the world and she was an orphan in it. Anything that this little baby had would be taken from her. He looked over at Lizzie and Mika. Mika was crying and Lizzie was telling her to be strong. What kind of a world was this where little girls and babies had to be strong?

He held Judith closer. She was small, fragile, too small and fragile for this world. So were the girls. He had to protect them. He wasn't just surviving just to survive. No, he was surviving so that they would survive. He would do right by them like he should have done by Sasha. He held in tears. He had to be strong. He had a job to do.

Lizzie knew that they would all come back. They would change but they would come back. Death was when something didn't move, think, or breath. The walkers moved, thought, and judging by the moaning they must have been breathing somehow. They attacked people but maybe they just did that because they were scared or hungry or something else altogether that she couldn't comprehend.

Lizzie had gone to church with her family before all of this. She knew that God worked in mysterious ways and he liked to test people. This new world must have been a test. The dead getting up and walking around was a miracle. That was the only explanation. She could sometimes make miracles happen to. Nobody believed her. Nobody ever listened to her.

Mika wanted Carol. Carol would protect them. Carol would take care of them. Carol always knew what to do. Everyone was gone and she had no idea where they went. Tyreese said that they were going someplace safe and would eventually find the others. Mika didn't believe that one bit.

The world took everything and everyone away. She wished so hard, so very hard for everything to go back to the way it was. She prayed silently to God as she cried for the world to be normal again. If she closed her eyes than maybe she'd be back home in front of the TV or playing in the yard or even in school doing boring school stuff.

She swore that if everything went back to normal right then and there she would never ever do anything wrong again. She'd never complain about anything or fight with anyone ever again. She'd get straight A's and keep her room clean and do all her chores and anything else if she could have the world back to the way it was supposed to be. She could hope and pray all she wanted but she knew, deep down she knew, that it could never be. All she could do beyond hoping and praying was keeping quiet and looking at the flowers.

Tara knew she deserved to die for what she did. She had trusted Brian, they all had, and look where that had gotten them. Everyone she had ever known and loved was gone. There was nothing left for her now. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go.

She was a monster. She wasn't worth the air she was breathing. She locked herself in a cage like the monster she was. She didn't even deserve to turn. No, she'd wait it out in this cage surrounded by the disaster she was a part of. Wait, she'd turn no matter what, wouldn't she? Either the dead got her or dehydration would. The dehydration would come before the starvation. Whatever. Why should she carry on?

She felt the weight of the gun in her hand. Full clip. She could shoot her way out and then run away to fight another day. What would that accomplish. People were dead. That old man was dead. Her family was dead. She held the gun in her hand. Maybe she was dead too. Maybe she should just empty the clip into her head.

Loud screaming got her attention. That man, the one that Brian said was bad, was calling for someone. He was with that sword woman. They were looking for someone named Carl. One more disaster she could add to her generous supply. She leaned her head against the concrete behind her and let sleep overtake her. Maybe when she opened her eyes this would all have been a bad dream…and maybe doves would fly out of her ass.

It was dark out now. Carl was out of bullets and out of luck. He had managed to break into a house and scavenge some food but had been forced out when an entire family of walkers was found hiding behind a door. He shot them all but the noise attracted more and more of them. He used his last bullet taking down the one that was currently on top of him.

"Dad…Dad I need you." Pleaded Carl softly as he tried to wiggle his way out from under the rotting corpse that was on top of him. Maggots fell from its head and onto Carl's face. He struggled to keep his food down. He needed the valuable calories if he wanted to survive.

He had managed to half free himself from the walked on top of him. In his stupidity he had tripped over an old garden hose and fallen onto his back. His hat lay on behind him in the grass. He was half out from under the walked now but he still did not have used of his legs. Another walked came to him and tripped over the walked that had Carl pinned down.

After much struggle he had managed to free the knife from his side and plunge it into the new walker's head. Now he was totally and completely pinned. More walkers were shuffling over. His arms and legs were pinned. His body was crushed. It was over.

"Just do it…" said Carl. It might not have been so bad. He'd be with Mom and Dad and Judith and Shane and T-Dog and Andrea and Dale and Sophia and Hershel and everyone else he had lost. They'd all be together in heaven. Yes…than would be nice.

The first bite was agony. Fire ran from the bite in his shoulder through to the rest of his body. It hurt, it hurt so much. It didn't matter, he'd be with them soon. After all, he had survived this long and for what? To keep on fighting and surviving?

Another walker came to him. This one looked at him…and kept on looking. It didn't move. It almost seemed like it was thinking. It had a patchwork of what looked like black stiches along its body. In his delirium Carl thought he must have been losing it, especially when the stitched walker began to gesture to something behind it.

"What'd you find, Fido?" said a voice. A girl's voice. In his delirium Carl thought back to Marry Poppins. Chim Chimminy, Chim Chimminy…

"Man alive, that man's still alive!" called that same voice

"Toffee, no jokes. You're not funny." Said a different voice, a boy's voice.

"Wasn't trying to be! Now, help!" said the girl. Carl closed his eyes. He was hallucinating girls. Maybe that was heaven. Maybe heaven was made up on girls with funny accents…

"Fine, but I'm not touching them." said the other voice with a sniff of disdain. Carl saw a red light through his eyelids before the weight on top of him was removed.

"Claudine, get the sterile bandages ready while I clean out his blood." The words sounded far away now and had an almost echo like quality to them. He eyelids were pushed opened and then stayed there by some invisible force. A blonde girl about his age leaned over and creamed in his face.

"You are experiencing trauma! My name is Toffee Pettigrew! I'm a research alchemist/healer!" there was a snort from behind her.

"Shut up Claudine! You want to do this?!" said Toffee loudly. Carl tried to tell her to shut up and let him go in piece but his brain had forgotten how to make words.

"Oh, right…I'm going to clean you your blood now so you don't die! This is a syringe! It's full of some good things that will help you!" said Toffee. Carl only understood that this girl was trying to save him. Unless she was going to amputate his entire shoulder nothing could have him.

"This is going to hurt!" said Toffee before she plunged the needle into him. She pushed down on the top and watched that miracle of modern healing work it's wonders on him. He was a survivor and he was all alone. If he passed the mental evaluation she'd take him on to serve in her house. It was rather lonely with only Fido and whichever member of her family, currently cousin Claudine, decided to lend her their services.

"He's been bitten, I think that pain trumps anything he's going to feel from that little needle prick." Said Claudine as she watched that wonderful elixir, courtesy of the Palace of Mercy, flow into the boy. He was around her age, actually a little younger closer to Toffee's age. Toffee would probably take him. Not many people his age around and if there were they were never alone.

"Toffee, bandage him while I set up a perimeter." Said Toffee as she watched the boy's color improve. Carl felt like…well he felt good. All of the pain in his body was flushing away. The world was coming in clearer and noises were sharper. He opened his mouth to see if his brain had remembered how to make worlds.

"Who…Who're you…" said Carl, control of his body coming back to him.

"Huh? Oh, you're all alive and stuff, right. I'm Claudine Estelle DeLioncourte-Pettigrew-Potter. Call me Claudine or Misses Potter or whatever, I don't care just don't stare. The other girl is Toffee Apple Pettigrew, don't laugh at the name she saved your life. You are?" asked the girl, the smooth silk of her black dress caressing him as she bandaged his wound.

"C-Carl…Grimes." Said Carl trying to sit up. A surprisingly strong hand pushed him down to the ground.

"Let the elixir do its work. Toffee's setting up a perimeter so I guess it's up to me to, you know, put you at ease and whatnot. Well, Carl Grimes, you have just been saved by the Alchemist Toffee Pettigrew so that makes you hers unless she doesn't want you. We weren't really looking for survivors this deep into the Wild Zone, just supplies and spare parts from the dead so we really aren't equipped to do what needs to be done. Once you're recovered we'll take you processing where you'll get your ident card, mental health score, fertility score, any medical treatment you need, and your name and blood will be added to the survivor roster. After that you'll probably stay with Toffee and if not you'll be assigned to an agro-plantation or a mill. Any question?" said Claudine as she finished a well-rehearsed speech.

"Who are you?" asked Carl as he took in the girl in front of him. Brown curly hair fell across her face, a black dress and black gloves covered her, and a large black hat was placed next to his. Her skin was a sickly pale looking color with some visible veins and her lips had cuts on them most likely from the teeth that seemed too big for her mouth.

"Toffee! Come here and explain! I think I did it wrong!" said Claudine loudly. Carl could hear the moans of the dead. They were in front of him, seemingly held back by some sort of invisible line. The blond girl was there too, checking something on the stitched walker. Her dress was pink and long. The other girl's dress was black and long. Both dresses looked like something from a history book. Carl decided that either they were crazy or he was crazy or it was some kind of miracle and he shouldn't question it. The other girl rushed over to him. She had a stick in her hand. To small and delicate to stab anything with.

"Hello, my name is Toffee and this is Claudine and that over there is Fido. We saved your life. We're going to wait here with you until the elixir does its job. After that we're going to take you to a big building run by my government to help survivors like you. You'll be given food, water, shelter, and some tests to make sure that you can rejoin society. If you pass all of those I'll be taking you in so you can help me. I live in a very nice house with land for farming and a greenhouse with all sorts of things you can eat. I assure you that you will be well taken care of. Do you consent to my helping you?" said Toffee

"Yes." Said Carl not sure what was going on. Government? Tests? Society? What was she on about? What was with that walker? Why was he feeling better? These girls were about his age, the one in black was a little older, and they had saved him with some kind of medicine. He decided that it was best to at least see what these people were about.

"Marvelous, simply marvelous. Now, while we wait? Who's for cake?" said Toffee. Before Carl could ask her what she meant she pulled a small cake from the blue beaded bag at her side, much too small to hold anything at all let alone an entire cake with a plate under it, and then tapped it with her stick. It got to normal size. Carl stared and stared and stared some more before revising his decision. No, this must have been heaven. He stared and stared at them both.

"Oh! Now I remember what I had forgotten to say! I'm a witch and so is Claudine."