Chapter 2

"Someone should go let Rick and Shane know we have Sophia." Carol said to the group as they walked. Lori and Andrea volunteered to go back, Daryl silently handed them the extra gun he had in the back of the waistband of his jeans. Then he turned and casually walked ahead of the group. After a little bit Helena caught up with him.

"Hey, I'm sorry bout earlier, I um…well you know what it's like out here. Either way, sorry. Hope I didn't hurt you too bad." She smiled faintly and nudged him in the bicep. Nothing but my pride, he thought to himself, nope that's a lie, my jaw hurts too. He looked down at the beautiful woman walking next to him. She was incredible. Her red hair falling softly along the sides of her heart-shaped face. Her tattered yellow sundress flapping modestly around her knees. Though they were shuffling through a thicket of grass, branches, and dirt, she took each stride with grace and ease, she must be familiar with the woods. His eyes traveled up her body, finally reaching her eyes. Those blue eyes were still looking at him…she had said something. She had apologized, he remembered. You wanted to get to know this girl, here's your chance dumbass, don't screw it up. He ignored her apology. Talk about something that makes you sound like you know what you're doing.

"Did you see the herd of walkers on the highway?" He was too nervous to look at her so he just stared ahead. He couldn't help himself though he had to glance down, to see her angelic face. She gave him a big smile, obviously pleased that he was speaking with her.

"You think I'd be all alone in the woods if I could use a nice, safeish highway?" He grunted in response. She couldn't lose the conversation "Ya, I saw a whole bunch of them coming my way so I went into the woods to hide. How did you get out here?"

"Looking for Sophia, We were on the highway when the herd passed. Two of them caught Sophia's scent so they chased her into the woods."

"Oh" was all she could say.

"Ya" Daryl replied. He wanted to hear her voice so badly. He wanted to know all about her, everything. "We umm, We are headed out of town, if you wanna join." He nervously glanced down at her, maybe the invite was too much.

"Maybe, I mean if everyone else doesn't mind." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Where were you when this all happened?" He asked they were approaching the highway and he was worried that she would split off to meet Dale or someone.

"Church" She smiled at him when he froze awkwardly. "Don't ya like my Sunday best?" she teased. He looked her over, not inspecting the dress. He felt his stomach twist and flashes of her in unwholesome positions entered his mind. Think of something else damn it! He tried to focus on her clothes not what was under them. He noticed her boots. He sat down on the hood of a car, at the edge of the highway and turned his head. The boots were combat boots, military issued. They looked very out of place with her innocent yellow sundress. "Nice boots." He lowered his head and looked up at her.

She laughed "Thanks," She sat down next to Daryl and lifted her leg so he could get a better look at them, "I killed a walker for 'em." The proximity was killing Daryl, the ache in his stomach was back and his hands twitched and burned. He wanted to touch her, to feel her bare skin against his. He tried to hide his arousal by laughing lightly. He grabbed the heel of her boots and inspected them.

"You killed a walker for his boots?" he looked at her with a slight smile. She was tough but she seemed so innocent.

"Well I couldn't exactly go walking around in my heels, now could I?" he let go of her boot and she lowered her leg. She was very childlike; it made her seem so youthful. He wondered how old she truly was. Please be at least eighteen, he thought. What did it matter if she was eighteen? It's not like there's anyone to arrest him if she wasn't, but he would feel like a criminal still.

"How old are you?" He had to know.

"Twenty three. How old are you?" She raised her eyebrows at him, jokingly. He awkwardly tried to change the subject, but she saw right through it. He was at least thirty, maybe almost forty, she knew that much.

"Are you from Atlanta?" he asked her. She shook her head no, and then proceeded to tell him that she was from Chattanooga, Tennessee.

"My Daddy was a preacher." She had said. The congregation was overrun during Sunday service, and she got out of town as quick as possible. She had the same idea they did, try the CDC, but it wasn't standing anymore, and Daryl knew why. So she would go find somewhere else, with people that were still human. Daryl listened intently, memorizing every word. He didn't dare ask about her family. She had said her father WAS a preacher, so he was probably either dead or undead.

"Helena," he said "If you wanna stay with the group you can. We would be happy to have you." He wanted to make sure that she was safe, no matter what. She smiled in response.

"I kind of miss being around other people, you know?" She said "You ever been to Tennessee, I mean before?"

"No. I've never been anywhere but Georgia. I mean before." He looked deep into her eyes, there was hope tainted by sadness in them.

"You would've loved it." She half smiled up at him.