A/N: I have a lot of muse and needed to write. Thanks SOA Loving Mom for reviewing ^^ Here's the second chapter 3

Daryl whipped around as a walker stumbled out from behind a tree, hissing and snarling, it's face rotting and decaying. Blood pounded in Daryl's ears as he stalked over quietly, taking out his anger on the walker by sinking his knife into the walkers skull. It dropped to the ground, it's snarling stopped. Daryl stepped back, hissing in disgust as he turned back to the trail, flashing the beem of light from his flashlight onto the large footsteps that were undoubtedbly Randall's, then Carol's small, resistant footsteps. Daryl let out a growl as he saw them and began following them again.

. . .

(Carol's POV)

"Right, now what do we have here?" A deep voice drawled from inside the shack they called a house. "Randall? Hell I thought you were dead!" The voice shook with laughter. Carol flinched as she listened to him, huddling into the porch boards. Carol was tied up by her hands and knees, thrown on the porch casually as if she were a peice of meat. She could hear woman and children upstairs, then remembered what Daryl and Rick had said about this group.

They were going to make her wish she were dead.

Carol could feel tears forming in her eyes. She could hear the woman trying to soothe a crying teenager upstairs. The sobbing went on for a seconds until Carol heard a man yell from inside and something crash to the floor, most likely the girl who was sobbing harder now.

The door opened, a heavyset man with short black hair stood in the doorway. He grinned as Carol whimpered, peering up at him.

"You did good Randall, brought back a fine woman for the rest of us." He laughed, hooking a hand around her arm and pulling her to her feet roughly.

"We'll have some fun tonight, won't we?" He laughed, pulling her inside.

. . .

When Carol awoke, her head was pounding something feirce. The side of her face was wet and sticky and Carol soon learned it was blood dripping from a wound on her head. It was dark, very dark and cold. She shivered, crossing her arms across her chest as she realized her sweater was was lying against a wall. She could feel other people breathing in the room, one was beside her. She made to move, only to slump back onto the wall as stars danced across her vision. She felt sick and her head spun. They must have hit her hard. Her thighs ached and so did her "Special area."

Then the tears came, flowing as she realized what happened. She put her head in her hands and began to gasp for air. What was the group doing now? Heading away from here? Why would they go looking for her, she only cooked and cleaned. Nothing special.

"Don't cry." A voice cut through the silence. It was soft as silk and quiet. Carol looked around, thinking it was who was beside her who had just spoken to her.

"It gets better." The voice soothed her. Carol felt a hand brush her arm, gripping her gently. "Go to sleep." The voice whispered.

. . .

The sun was just comin' up when Daryl stepped into a clearing. The birds chirped cheerfully as he went.

"Shut up." He growled to the birds, staring at the peice shit shack that stood for a house. He guessed it was where Carol was, seeing as there wan't anything for miles around. It was just him now, the others had stopped for the night around four in the morning. Suddenly, Daryl was under the moonlight, lost in thought.

"Daryl, we have to stop. We'll pick up the trail tomorrow morning." Rick told him after a while. Daryl turned around, crossbow up. Glenn and T-Dog took a step back when they saw the light shining in Daryl's eyes.

"Am I the only one taking this seriously!" Daryl snapped at him. "You know that group, what they do to woman! We can't just stop!" Daryl growled.

Rick raised his hands slowly, telling him to be quiet or they might draw attention to themselves.

"We can't keep going like this. We're just tripping over each other in the dark." Rick stated calmly, a steely tint to his voice.

Daryl glared at Rick,. the words out of his mouth before he knew it.

"We would never have stopped if it had been Lori."

. . .

Carol opened her eyes, not remebering where she was. She gazed around in panic, backing up against the wall. She looked around the room, two teenagers gazing back at her with wide eyes. They looked about fifteen of sixteen, seventeen at the most.

Carol looked to the youngest of the two. She was short, with shoulder length, curly black hair. Her eyes were a stormy gray that reflected fear. The other one stepped foward, placimng a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Tammy, don't be afraid."She spoke with a silken voice. "Go downstairs and start making breakfast or we'll catch hell." She told her, watching as the girl went out the door. She had an almost motherly look to her and when she turned around, Carol understood why.

She was tall with waist length dark brown hair. Her eyes were green and you could tell she used to smile a lot. She pale and looked malnourished. Her build was one of an athlete, but her stomach had a slight bulge to it. The girl smiled, placing a hand on her stomach. "I'm Rose." She smiled brightly.

Carol finally found her voice and forced a weak smile, yet she felt like dying inside. "Carol." she told her, getting up slowly. She wobbled, her head still spinning.

"Come on, it's time to cook breakfast." Rose said gently, stepping outside the door. Carol followed, walking down the short hallway when a hand gripped her wrist.

"Looky here, we got ourselves a shrew." An achingly familiar voice echoed in her ears as she spun around and fear pulsed through her as she looked back into the face of Merle Dixon.