"Ready, boys?"

Without waiting for an answer, I kick the door with enough force to open it. Our leader, Rick, is right next to me, shooting down a walker as soon as the door's open. T-Dog barges past me, shoving an iron fireplace poker into the forehead of a walking corpse. I follow them in, my brother, Daryl, and best friend, Carl, flanking me, our weapons raised. "Ding dong, motherfucker," I say, glancing back at the door. "Ding dong."

"Come on," Daryl huffs, choosing to ignore my reference. I follow him and T-Dog up the stairs, while Carl and Rick take the first floor. We check every room, every closet and cupboard, for lurking walkers and any remaining food. I meet back up with Daryl as he exits a room, carrying a dead owl. I look at it, then at him. "Really?"

"Food's food," he replies. "You know that."

"That I do," I say, following him down the stairs. I can't stop my stomach from growling as I glance at the owl once again. Over the winter, it's been hard finding food, even with two experienced hunters in the group. We're too afraid to stray too far from the group, should the farm incident happen again. Before the winter, we were on a farm with a man named Hershel and his family. We were forced to leave when a herd larger than any I've ever seen stumbled across it, killing a few of us. We were unable to take any supplies with us when we ran, and spent the winter struggling to find food. Of course, when we did find some, it went to the others first. Daryl and I made sure of that. We took care of the others before ourselves, going days at a time without eating. We made sure that the first person to get any food was Rick's pregnant wife, Lori. I have nothing against Lori, but I still think that she should have been smart enough not to let herself get knocked up during the apocalypse. Yeah, yeah, future generations bullshit and all, but still.

Glenn, a Korean I consider my brother, gives me a small smile when he sees Daryl carrying the owl. I give him a nod in return, watching as he and his girlfriend, Maggie, the farmer's daughter, move the walker bodies out of the main hall. Rick whistles out the front door, getting the attention of the rest of our group. Carol leads the way in, followed by Beth, Hershel's other daughter. Lori comes next, holding one hand over her bulging belly. Hershel follows her, looking down at the walkers. Before the day we found Carol's daughter, Sophia, in his barn full of walkers, he thought that they were still alive. That they were sick. That changed when Shane, our former resident grade-A asshole, fired a few rounds into the chest of a walker. No one alive would be able to take a hit like that and get up, walking.

I make my way over into the kitchen, where Carl searches each and every can. "Anything?" I inquire.

"There's nothing," he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. "They're all empty."

"We'll find somethin'," I say, knowing that he's concerned about getting his mother food. She hasn't eaten in two days. I rest my hand on his arm, looking up at him. "Hey. It's alright. Daryl got an owl."

"What would we do without you and your brother, Dixon?" Carl inquires.

"You'd survive," I say. "They're all in the living room."

He nods once, and I go to find the others in the living room. T-Dog keeps watch out a window as I take a seat next to Daryl as he defeathers the owl, and regret it when he throws a clump of feathers at me. He winks as I roll my eyes, glancing across the room at Beth, Lori, and Carol. Lori and Beth try not to laugh as I brush the feathers off me, while Carol smiles softly. Carl sits down, beginning to open one of the two cans he found. Rick walks over, picking up the opened can before throwing it across the room. T-Dog turns away from the window at the noise, and I glance over at the can. Dog food. I try not to glare too harshly at Rick, who doesn't seem to understand that these are desperate times. T-Dog glances back out the window, and lets out a quiet whistle, signaling the arrival of walkers.

We gather our bags and weapons as quickly as possible, Daryl, Glenn, and I leading the way out the side door. We run around the side of the house towards the cars. A pale green Hyundai, an old red Ford truck, a silver Ram truck, and Daryl's motorcycle. Daryl throws the owl in one of his saddlebags, climbing on. I climb on behind him, finishing the job of stuffing the owl in and tying it down. We always work in tandem like that, without a need to say anything. We just know what to do.

Daryl leads the way as he drives away from the abandoned home, glancing behind him to make sure that we don't get separated yet again.

We stop in the middle of a road about thirty minutes later, Maggie pulling out a map of Georgia and spreading it on the hood of the Hyundai. Carl, Beth, and I take watch, Carl on point, as the others discuss where to go next. I listen as they talk, discussing the moving herds and the places that we've already checked. Rick suggests going to Greenville. T-Dog says, "We picked through there already. It's like we've spent the winter going in circles."

"I know," Rick replies. "At Newnan we'll push west. Haven't been through there yet. We can't keep going house to house. Need to find some place to hole up for a few weeks."

"Alright," T-Dog says. "Is it cool if we get to the creek before we head out? Won't take long. We got to fill up on water. We can boil it later."

"Knock yourself out," Rick approves.

"Clars," Daryl calls, and I turn. "Hey, Rick! We're gonna do a little huntin' while we're stopped."

"Sounds good," Rick says, following Daryl and I as we head into the woods. We hunt for a while, walking around, but we don't come across anything worth shooting. Daryl leads us down a set of railroad tracks, and we come across a prison, its field filled with walkers. "That's a shame," Daryl says, noticing all the dead.

I glance over at Rick, able to tell he's getting an idea. "You're gettin' an idea, ain't you?" I inquire.

"It's perfect," he replies.

We stand watch as Rick cuts open the fence with a pair of bolt cutters that used to belong to a member of our group. We duck inside a walkway, fences separating us from walkers on both sides. We hurry through, Daryl and I leading the way to the main gate. A bus is turned over on its side, but we can still squeeze through.

"It's perfect," Rick says, studying the field. "If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off walkers. We'll take the field by tonight."

"So how do we shut the gate?" Hershel asks.

"I'll do it," Glenn volunteers. "You guys cover me."

"No. It's a suicide run," Maggie says.

"I'm the fastest, aside from Clary."

"No, you, Maggie, T, and Beth draw as many as you can over there," Rick says, pointing, "Pop 'em through the fence. Daryl, go back to the other tower. Carol, you've become a pretty good shot. Take your time, we don't have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel, you and Carl take this tower." Rick points to the closest tower. "I'll run for the gate." He looks over at me. "And Clary?"

"I got your six," I tell him, putting my crossbow on my back as I draw my gun. The others take off, going to where they were told to. Lori opens the gate for Rick and I, and we slip into the courtyard. We run towards the gate, picking off a few close walkers. I'm about ready to call up to Rick to warn him of an approaching walker, then it stops and drops to the ground, one of my brother's arrows through it. I give a nod to him, a silent thanks, and catch up to Rick. I skid to a halt, throwing out an arm to stop the leader, when Carol misses a walker and the bullet hits the ground in front of us. "Sorry!" she calls.

Rick and I make it to the gate, and I kick a walker back as he slides it closed. He chains it shut, and we duck into the third guard tower, firing at the two walkers inside. As we make it to the top, I hear Daryl yell, "Light it up!"

We all begin firing, and soon, the field is cleared. "We did it," I say to Rick as we climb down from the guard tower.

"It's ours," he says, grinning up at me. We enter the field as the others walk in, Carol laughing. "Oh! We haven't had this much space since we left the farm!" she cries.

T-Dog laughs, letting out a whoop. I run down to them, and Carl runs to meet me. "We did it!" he cries, grinning.

"I know," I say, smiling back at him. I take his hat, which used to be Rick's, and put it on my head. I run away, causing him to chase me. We laugh, and I somehow stay in front of him. I glance over my shoulder, and I don't see him behind me. He tackles me from the side, and we roll, both of us laughing. We land on our backs next to each other, the dark brown sheriff's hat above us. Carl and I sit up and reach for it, but he grabs it first. Instead of taking it back, he puts it on my head. "Looks better on you," he claims.

I take it off and put it on his head. "No, it looks better on you."

He tries to give it back to me, but I slap his hand. "Don't argue with me. Who's the girl here?" I say, starting one of the pointless arguments we have all the time.

"You, but you're Daryl Dixon's little sister!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Carl Grimes?"

"It means that both of you are supposed to shut the hell up," Daryl jokes, grinning. I stick my leg out as he walks past, and he trips.

My brother stands up. "Oh, is that how you wanna play?"

I give him a smirk, standing with Carl. I turn back to my brother, and he tackles me to the ground. I give a yelp of surprise, and we both throw our weapons to the side, attempting to pin the other to the ground. Eventually, Daryl pins me, and I sigh. I look up at him, grinning. "Alright, Daryl," I say. "I give. You win this round."

Daryl stands, and holds out his hand for me. I take it, but instead of him pulling me up, I pull him to the ground, using the momentum to stand. I put one foot on his ribs, looking down at him. "Like I said, brother mine. You won round one."

"I'll give you this one. Clever trick. But not as clever as this—"

Before I can react, Daryl grabs my ankle, throwing me to the ground. I land on my back while he gets to his feet, grinning in triumph. I lean my head back, sighing in defeat. I hold up my hand, and Daryl takes it, pulling me to my feet. Before I can grab my crossbow, my brother takes it, along with my backpack that I dropped. I glare at him. "I can carry it," he says.

"If you're really gonna do that, then at least let me have my crossbow," I say. He hands me the weapon. "You can never be too careful in this world."

I glance over across the field where the groups sits around a fire, then turn to Daryl, where he stands next to me on top of the overturned prison bus. Carol slides a bowl of owl meat onto the side, Daryl reaching down to help her climb up. "It's not much," Carol says, crossing her arms as Daryl picks up the bowl. "But I know that if I don't bring you two anything, you won't eat at all."

Daryl holds the bowl over to me, and I take a small piece. He says, "I guess little Shane over there has got quite the appetite."

"Don't be mean," Carol says, but chuckles. "Rick's gotten us a lot farther that I ever thought he would, I'll give him that. Shane could never have done that."

I glance down at the mention of Shane, remembering the times he's tried to kill me. I nudge Daryl's arm, and he holds the bowl out, assuming I'm asking for more. I shake my head, and tell them, "I'm gonna go. I'm freezing."

Daryl nods, and I slide down the side that used to be the top of the bus. "What's wrong?" Daryl inquires.

"That rifle's kickback," Carol replies. "I'm not used to it."

I glance up, then smirk to myself when I see Daryl rubbing her shoulder. He drops his hand after a moment, and says, "We should get back."

"It's pretty romantic," Carol says as I start back towards the fire. "Want to screw around?"

Daryl scoffs, while I turn around and call, "Use protection!"

"SHUT UP!" Daryl yells, and I laugh as I run towards the fire. I arrive to hear Hershel say, "Bethy, sing 'The Parting Glass' for us."

"Nobody wants to hear," Beth says.

"Why not?" Glenn asks.

I walk over, listening as Beth sings. I begin to beatbox, and she stops, laughing, and soon, the others join her. I grin at them, then say, "I'm just kiddin'. Keep goin', Beth."

She continues to sing, Maggie joining her about halfway through. When they finish, Hershel remarks, "Beautiful."

Carl looks over at me as Daryl and Carol sit down. He says, "You sing somethin', Clary."

"Oh, no," I say, stretching out and putting my feet in Daryl's lap. "You don't want to hear me sing."

"Hey, sing 'Line of Blood,'" Daryl requests, and Glenn, Beth, Maggie, and Carol nod, all ganging up on me. "Haven't heard you sing that since before Will died."

"You're really not helpin'," I say.

"Just sing!" Glenn says. "Please!"

I sigh. "Fine. But I'm not singing 'Line of Blood.'"

I glance over at Carl, and he gives me a grin, nodding once. I begin to sing "Blood on My Name" by The Brothers Bright.

"There's a reckonin' a-comin'
And it burns beyond the grave
It laid inside my belly
'Cause my soul has lost its way
Oh, Lazarus
How do you debts get paid?
Oh, Lazarus
Why are you so afraid?

When the fires, when the fires have surrounded you
With the hounds of hell comin' after you
I've got blood, blood on my name
When the fires, when the fires are consumin' you
And your sacred stars won't be guiding you
I've got blood, I've got blood
Blood on my name

Not a spell gonna be broken
With a potion or a priest
When you're cursed you're always hoping
That a prophet would be grieved
Oh, Lazarus
How did your debts get paid?
Oh, Lazarus
Why are you so afraid?"

I stop, seeing as that's all of the song that I can remember. "I'm glad I asked you to sing," Carl says.

"And we ganged up on you," Glenn adds. "What's 'Line of Blood?'"

"It's a song from her favorite movie," Daryl replies. I hide my face in my hands, groaning, "Daryl!"

"What?" he replies. "Nothing wrong with it."

"Shut up!" I tell him, and Glenn chuckles. Daryl leans over, whispering, "That's payback for earlier."

"Oh, you little shit," I say. I look over at Carl as he says, "I didn't know you liked that kind of music. I always thought you liked rock."

"Well, I am more of a Metallica and Led Zeppelin kind of girl," I tell him. "But, you know, that's cool, too."

Rick walks over, kneeling between Carl and Lori. He says, "We better turn in. We have a big day tomorrow. Look, I know we're all exhausted, but I wanna push our good luck just a little farther. By the looks of all the walkers, this place fell early. That means that the supplies might be intact. Food, medicine, shelter. Weapons. This place could be a gold mine if we rid it of walkers. We can stay here. We'll try tomorrow. For now, get some rest."

Daryl lays down behind me on his back, and I lay back on him, using his stomach as my pillow. I glance up at him, and he whispers, "Night, Clars."

"Night," I whisper, curling up next to him. I close my fist around his shirt, reassuring myself that he won't leave me in the night. He puts one hand on my side, gently running his fingers over the scar that's a reminder of the many beatings we took before the shit hit. I close my eyes after a few minutes, and I'm so tired, I fall asleep instantly.

I wake the next morning to hands on my shoulders, shaking me awake. I slowly open my eyes, a familiar silhouette coming into focus above me. "Wake up," Daryl says. "We're gettin' ready to take the prison."

"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" I inquire as he pulls me to my feet.

"You haven't slept through the night like that in a hell of a long time. I couldn't bring myself to wake you. You need sleep."

"Thanks," I tell him, following him towards the others as I pull my hair up. Rick stands at the front, going over the game plan. "Hershel, you open and close the gate after Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Daryl, and I go in. Clary, Carl, Lori, Carol, and Beth, you stay out here and try to attract walkers. Pop 'em through the fence again. Clary and Carl, don't argue. I know you want to come, but I need you out here. Okay, everybody ready?"

We nod, and Hershel opens the gate. Rick goes in first, followed by T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl. They use their knives, seeing as we don't have much ammo left. We attract walkers, stabbing them through the fence with knives and anything else that we've found. Rick, T-Dog, Maggie, Glenn and Daryl stay in a tight circle, stabbing walkers. The only time they break rank is when T-Dog grabs a riot shield. The dark skinned man butts walkers with it.

They make their way forward through the courtyard, and they disappear from view for a moment. Lori moves over to Carol and I. "I can't see them. Can you see them?"

"Back there, by the door," I say. The others finish off some of the walkers, and stand in the open. We crowd at the fence, waiting to get in. We watch as they go into the prison, and my hand tightens around the fence, waiting for a scream that I pray will never come. A few minutes later, Daryl comes out and I let out a sigh of relief as he tells us to come in.

We follow my brother inside, and Rick unlocks Cell Block C. "It's secure?" Lori asks.

"This cell block is," Rick answers.

"What about the rest of the prison?" Hershel inquires.

"Tomorrow, we'll do what we can."

"We sleep in the cells?" Beth asks. Rick nods.

"I ain't sleeping in no cage. I'll take the perch," Daryl says, walking to the second floor. I follow him up, walking into an empty cell. Beth follows me in.

"These cells give me the creeps," Beth says, sitting on the bottom mattress.

"Not gonna lie, they are a bit creepy," I agree. "My brother definitely doesn't like 'em. Spent time in prison as a kid."

"Daryl was in prison?" Beth inquires.

I look down at her, realizing I spoke like Merle was still here. "Oh, no. I had another brother, Merle."

"Didn't know you had a second brother."

"Merle was the oldest. He went missing in Atlanta, right before we left. Went to the CDC after. Nothing there. We were on the road for about a week. Then, Sophia went missing, Carl was shot, and you know the rest.

"Do you ever wonder what really happened to Otis at the high school?"

"I've always believed Dale's theory," I tell her, sitting down next to her. "What I saw from Shane, it all but confirmed it. Shane shot Otis so he could save his own ass. Try to win Lori back, you know?"

"Yeah," Beth agrees, and we look up as Carl appears in the doorway. He says, "This place is so gross."

"Remember the storage units?" I ask, and Carl laughs. Beth gets up and leaves, and I swing my legs onto the bed. "It's actually comfortable. Check it out."

Carl looks on the top bunk, and starts to take the backpack he's carrying off. Daryl stands in the doorway. "You find your cell yet, Carl?"

Carl freezes, then turns around. "Not yet. I was just making sure Clary was safe."

Daryl looks down at Carl. "I'm her brother. That's my job."

Carl leaves, looking down to avoid my brother's gaze. Daryl chuckles, pleased with himself. "Don't be mean," I scold him.

"Jesus, you sound like Carol," he replies, looking down at me. "You mind if I take the mattress?"

"Do I have a choice?" I reply, and he shrugs. Daryl takes the mattress, and heads to the perch. I glance out my door, and notice that I can still see him. That'll make things easier in the night if we're sleeping apart, something we haven't done in a long time.

I stand around a table with T-Dog, Rick, Glenn, Hershel, and Daryl, looking at the riot gear they collected. I pick up a helmet, looking at in in disgust. Walker slime drips from it. "I ain't wearing this shit," I say.

T-Dog picks up a glove with slime on it. "We could boil them."

"Hell no," Daryl says. "I'm with Clars on this. There ain't enough wood in the forest. 'Sides, we've made it this far without 'em."

We turn as Carol enters the common room, asking for Hershel. He follows her out, and we begin to get ready when he returns. T-Dog puts on a bulletproof vest, while Carl puts on a helmet that keeps falling off. Rick, noticing his son, walks over to him. "You won't need that," he says. "I need you to stay put."

"You're kidding," Carl says, taking off the helmet. "Clary's going."

"Yes, I know. But we don't know what's in there. Something goes wrong you could be the last man standing. I need you to handle things here."

"Sure."

"Great. Let's go," Rick says, handing Carl one set of keys to the cell. Daryl has the other set. Daryl, Rick, Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Hershel and I walk out of the cell block, with Carl closing the door behind us.

Rick and Daryl lead the way, flashlights in their hands. Glenn and Maggie bring up the rear, spray painting arrows to help us find our way back. We keep going, and Daryl and Rick round a corner. I hear the growling and know what it is before they even say. "Go back," Rick hisses. "There's walkers. Go back!"

Glenn and Maggie turn around and run. We follow them, and Daryl catches up to me. He grabs my hand, telling me to move faster. We duck into what used to be a solitary confinement cell. "Where's Maggie and Glenn?" Rick asks, noticing they disappeared.

"Shit!" I say, and Rick hushes me.

"We have to go back," Hershel whispers.

"But where?" Daryl asks. We go out, Daryl and I leading. There aren't any walkers. Hershel quietly calls their names, and the sound echoes off the walls.

"Rick?" Glenn's voice, followed by Maggie's. "Dad?"

I glance over my shoulder for Hershel, only to see him that he wandered away. "Shit!" I say. "Guys!"

They turn, and we take off when we hear Hershel's scream. We round a corner, Rick firing at the walker biting Hershel's lower calf. Glenn and Maggie come around the corner at the sound of the gunshot, and Glenn cries, "No!"

Walkers appear around the third corner, drawn out by the screams and gunshot. Rick and Glenn hook their arms underneath Hershel's, lifting him away from the walker. I turn to lead the way back the way we came, and Daryl drags me back just in time to avoid the walker. We turn around and go the way Maggie and Glenn came, T-Dog busting the handcuffs holding a door closed at the end of the corridor. Daryl and I take the rear, holding off walkers while the others go in.

Glenn and Rick carry Hershel in, laying him on the floor. Daryl, T-Dog, and I hold the doors closed, and I notice, most ironically, that we found the cafeteria. I almost fall, off balance, when the walkers push against the door. "T!" I bark. "The door!"

He shoves the fireplace poker through the handles, keeping it closed. "Hold him down!" Rick barks.

Daryl and I move to help, leaving T-Dog to hold the doors closed. Rick unstraps his belt, tying it around Hershel's leg as a tourniquet. Rick pulls out a hatchet, glancing around at us. "There's only one way to save his life," he tells us. "Hershel, you ready?"

Hershel doesn't answer, only whimpers. Maggie holds his head, while I hold his other leg down. I throw my crossbow down beside me, seeing as it keeps getting in the way. I look away, unable to watch. Despite all that I've seen, I can't watch as one of my friends is mutilated, even if it is the only way to keep him alive. Hershel passes out about halfway through, and I glance over as Rick makes the final cut. "He's bleeding out," Rick says.

I glance up as I hear a rattling across the room, and see a group of people. "Duck," I hiss.

Daryl follows my gaze, and we both grab our crossbows. We get up, carefully stepping around Hershel, our crossbows up. Daryl shines his flashlight on the group, and I count five men. One is Mexican, three are black, and one is white. The white one with honey blonde hair and a mustache of the same color looks directly at my brother and I, his mouth wide. He drawls, "Holy shit."

Hey, guys. So I decided to rewrite my first fanfiction that I posted on here. If you're new to this, go read The Walking Dead: Sophia first because that's everything that happened before. If you read this when I first published it, then just know that I, well, I kind of hated it. If you listen to Fall Out Boy, then you know that Patrick hates An Evening Out With Your Girlfriend. Basically, the original version of this is An Evening Out With Your Girlfriend, and I'm Patrick. Or the original version is danisnotonfire's "Hello, Internet" video, and I'm Dan. In other words, I couldn't stand this. So I'm rewriting it.