Fort Benning. That was our next play. We're getting out of Atlanta and going one hundred and twenty-five miles to another hope. There isn't much of it these days, but that's what we're going on. Supplies is limited, but we made a few runs before packing up and leaving.

Daryl's truck was running on fumes. This morning it was finally done. We needed to downsize on the amount of vehicles anyway. Instead, he was going to drive Merle's bike. He had the keys stored in the glove compartment of the truck. Merle never liked when others would touch his bike, but Daryl refused to ride along in the RV.

He put all of his belongings in the RV for storage. The only thing that would fit on the motorcycle was Daryl and whatever he had on his back. Lately, it had been his crossbow incase he came across a problem and needed a quick and quiet weapon.

The motorcycle wasn't very quiet either. That was a major discussion with the group. We decided to let him take it because it was small. It would be able to get around things better. If there was ever a problem, we would be able to send Daryl to check it out. He wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but that was the condition of having the bike.

Shane's jeep was also dead. He and I were to ride in the RV along with Andrea, Dale, and Glenn. It wasn't very private, but it was still a place to stay. It smelled of something awful, but I would have to get used to it. We needed desperately to dowsize and if it meant staying in an old RV, then so be it.

We also left behind the old van. It was too bulky and used too much gas. Gas was something we needed to start preserving. By the looks of it, there aren't going to be any working gas stations for a very long time. This trip will cause us to syphin whatever we could get our hands on.

We started to pull away. Daryl infront, then the RV and behind us, Rick's car. We sped down the empty side of the highway. The one going out of the city was loaded with cars. These were all people that knew Atlanta was a lie and needed to get out. Most abandoned their vehicles there. The traffic was too bad for them to be able to take it with them.

The city of Atlanta, Georgia was in the side-view mirror of the RV. I watched as the tall buildings started to fade behind us. For the next hundred or so miles, all we were going to see was green. That's what covered everything now. Mother Nature were taking back what was once hers.

Shane and I sat together at the table. He had his arm around me as I stared out the window. His arm held me close. We were sticking to each other because of our sweat. I didn't dare remove it, though. It may have been hot, but I didn't feel it. I was numb when Shane held me this way.

I hadn't talked for the past two days. Since our fight, I hadn't had much to say to Shane. There wasn't much going on for us to talk about. It wasn't like before when you could talk about a movie you saw or the music you were listening to. Now, the only topic available was staying close and trying not to die. Walkers roamed the earth and took everything away from us, including our discussions.

It didn't matter much anyway. The only person I wanted to speak to was Daryl. My brother had refused to look at me, let alone say a word to me. Since he saw Shane and me at the CDC, he's been ignoring me. He was hurt that I was with someone that he had told me countless times to stay away from. It's not like it was my fault. Options are more limited than conversation topics.

When he would allow me the chance, I would explain to him that Shane makes me happy and wants to protect me. If you think about it, he's just another Daryl. I just don't understand what it is about Shane that Daryl hates so much.

We sat in the same position for a while. Eventually, I needed to get up and stretch. I walked to the back of the RV and stood. There wasn't much else I could do. Dale had books to read, but nothing that seemed intresting.

Shane decided to pass the time by cleaning his gun. It was something that I didn't see him do often, but when he did, he was fully into it. His eyes never left his hands as he picked up pieces and dusted them off. The concentration in his eyes was something that I could admire.

I walked back over, leaned against the counter, and watched. I could see Andrea was watching as well. Her voice was soft. "Looks complicated." This was the first time I heard her speak since the CDC. She also clamed up. Her reasons, though, were different than mine.

Shane looked at me quickly before looking at Andrea. He seen that I was watching him as well. "The trick is getting all these pieces back together the same way." Isn't that right. I always hated when it was my turn to clean the guns back home. It would take me hours to just remember where everything went. Sometimes Daryl had to help me finish before the old man came home.

"I could clean yours, show you how" Shane offered to Andrea. She was shocked by the offer. She even looked to me like she expected me to say something. Was I supposed to? It was him offering to do something nice for her. Was I supposed to be jealous about that? This was all new to me.

When I didn't object, Andrea nodded. Shane reached down and grabbed her gun. He cocked it and pointed it in my direction, like he was taking aim at me. I let out a small chuckle. He smiled, happy to know he got some sort of response out of me.

He dropped the gun and brought his attention back to Andrea. "It's a sweet piece." That got me a little. Was he flirting with her to get a reaction from me? I refused to play his stupid game.

"It was a gift," Andrea said, eyeing the gun in Shane's hands, "from my father." Lucky girl, I thought. My father wouldn't give gifts. We bought, or stole, our own shit. The thought of him made my stomach turn.

I walked to the back of the RV and layed on the bed. The last thing I wanted to hear was someone speak of how their father was a good man. If they wanted a reaction from me, that was how to get one.