Oh, you guys. I just want to hug and squeeze every last one of you! Thanks so much for the support and glad to see that people are returning for the story. I don't know about ya'll, but I'm pretty damn excited about this!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 2

By the next day, it seemed as though Jenna's run of good fortune had come to an end.

She woke the next morning feeling far from rested, which wasn't too uncommon to be perfectly honest. A good night of sleep was next to impossible to get when you had to sleep with one eye open. Unfortunately, she also woke with a rumbling stomach and the unhappy reminder that she hadn't had a much more than a few cans of beans and some less than satisfying protein bars the past few days - she had been strictly rationing her food in the hopes of prolonging the moment that she ran out, and doing so meant she was left feeling hungry most of the time.

The first bout of bad luck came when she opened the metal tool box in the bed of the truck, where she'd securely locked up what little food rations she had left while exploring downtown, and discovered that half of her food had spoiled after being locked up in a sweltering hot toolbox for an entire day. Uncomfortable with the idea of embarking to Fort Benning with such little food rations, she forewent her initial plan of continuing on towards 85 and instead spent the day scouring the area around her temporary camp for provisions, all the while mentally berating herself for being such a careless idiot – Note to self: metal tool box in boiling Georgia heat equals makeshift oven. Not suitable for food storage.

Her second stroke of bad fortune came in the form of an unsuccessful scavenging mission. When she ventured out to look for food, she found that all of the stores in the area had been cleaned out already, and even searching through abandoned cars she passed by didn't yield much. The only food she managed to get her hands on were a box of granola bars and some old crackers found buried underneath the seat of a station wagon. Not nearly enough to see her through to Fort Benning. That meant that Jenna was now either going to have to search around again at the next neighborhood she came across or try her hand at hunting, which, honestly, was a joke in and of itself. Hunting required certain skills, none of which she possessed. Not to mention bullets, which drew unwanted attention and were too precious to waste.

Then again, if she didn't try to get her hands on some sort of food – and soon – it wouldn't be long before the possibility of starvation started to become a very real threat.

These were, unfortunately, the challenges Jenna was faced with day in and day out. Where would she find her next meal? When would she find her next meal? And what - or who - might she have to fight to get to it? In the beginning it had been a little easier, because she'd had Jon to depend on for things like that – he had hunted all his life, was much better at all of this survivalist stuff than she was, and had been able to keep their bellies relatively full. But those days were long gone, and now Jenna's days consisted of trying her hardest to stay alive by flying under the radar, living off of scraps, and always, always following the strict set of rules she'd made for herself after Jon died.

Rule number one - see a hoard of chompers? Don't try to be a hero or a show off, just get the hell out. Rule number two – see a group of survivors, dangerous looking or not? Run or hide. She wasn't out here trying to make friends with anyone. Rule number three – ration the food and ration the water no matter how much of either she had, because it was never a guarantee that she'd be able to replace what she'd used. And finally, rule number four – never travel at night. Headlights attracted unwanted attention, and seeing as there were too many dangers to count out in the world these days, it was just plain unsafe.

By nightfall, Jenna had made herself a new camp on the roof of a ransacked convenience store in some nameless suburb, no closer to Fort Benning than she had been this time the day before and still feeling rather disheartened after a day full of let-downs. Her pitiful dinner consisted of nothing but a granola bar, a leftover strip of jerky that was so tough she thought she might break her teeth trying to eat it, and some stale crackers. She wasn't about to complain, though, since it was better than eating nothing at all. Jenna reminded herself that there were probably a lot of people out there worse off than she was - she should be thankful and cherish what she did have, now matter how meager or unfulfilling it might be.

The air was surprisingly crisp now that the sun had tucked itself away for the night, a sign that summer would be on its way out soon. Jenna finished her last few bites of food then tossed the empty wrappers away, not really caring where they landed. After wiping her hands on her pants, she tightened the blanket around her shoulders to block out the chill and settled further into her camping chair with a sigh. Out of habit, she reached up to toy with a golden wedding band hanging from a chain around her neck. The ring had once been her mother's. It was the only thing of Renee's that Jenna had been able to keep after her mother had died.

The undead were roaming freely around on the streets below, and the desolate town around her looked like it could have been the set of a horror movie. But despite that, she had to admit that there was something to be said for the view overhead. The lack of city lights allowed the stars in the night sky to shine out all the clearer, and Jenna couldn't help but turn her eyes up to admire them. The moon was large and full too, illuminating everything it touched. Jenna shifted her eyes downward to peer forward, finding that she was presented with a rather picturesque view of the pearly-looking skyscrapers that made up downtown Atlanta in the not so far distance. It was a little strange how peaceful everything looked from this point of view, especially since Jenna knew exactly how dangerous and chaotic everything actually was down below.

She usually tried not to think about the ones that she'd lost, since it only ever proved to dredge up heart-breaking memories that she'd rather not think about. But something about camping out in the open like this began to bring back memories from a past life, when times had been happier and simpler. Times when she, her brother, and their friends would drive down to the beach for the weekend and camp out underneath the stars. They'd make huge bonfires, drink cheap beer, feast on sand-infested hotdogs and hamburgers, and blare music from their radios. Jenna closed her eyes and smiled longingly to herself, almost able to pretend she was there now. She'd give anything to be back on that beach with her brother, drinking that crappy beer and eating that awful food while their friends got up to their usual, stupid shenanigans around them.

The sound of the chompers moving around down below broke through her thoughts, making Jenna open her eyes again and frown. She then sighed and shook her head, settling further into her chair and forcing the memories of the good old days out of her head. Honestly, there was no use thinking about her past life anymore. Those days were gone, those people were gone, and the home she had once known was one she would never return to. The only hope of getting even a sliver of her once happy life back was by finding Sam, and she would find him by looking forward, not backward.

The chompers continued to make noise on the street, but Jenna ignored them and shut her eyes again, intent on trying to get a decent night of sleep. It had been an unsuccessful and frustrating day, but she decided that having another night of rest before starting the trek to Fort Benning would probably end up being for the better in the end. And since it was a rare occasion indeed that she managed to find a place to sleep that kept her safely out of the reaches of anything dangerous, Jenna had every intention of taking full advantage of her newfound safety.

Hell, she might even sleep in tomorrow.

"Where are you?"

Jenna turned her back on the sight of Jon and his father, Bill, as they attempted to siphon gas out of some abandoned cars and took a few steps away from the others for privacy. "Somewhere in Lake Charles," she answered. The wind picked up for a moment, stirring up some randomly scattered papers that littered the deserted streets. Jenna wrapped an arm around herself in the vain hope that it would provide some sense of security. It didn't work.

"You've only made it as far as Lake Charles?" Sam asked incredulously. "You've been on the road for over a week.," he then felt the need to remind her. "What the hell's taking so long?"

His tone, as always, managed to strike a nerve that only an older brother seemed to know how to find. And, as always, it immediately had her annoyance spiking. "Oh, well, we just figured that since we're in the area we might as well hit up the casinos, maybe even have a few drinks. You know, really make a trip out of it," Jenna told her brother, voice dripping with sarcasm. After all, it wasn't like they were going slow just for the fun of it. The world was a lot harder to navigate now, which meant that traveling from place to place took longer than normal. Didn't Sam realize that?

"Don't be a smartass," Sam snapped.

"Don't ask stupid questions and I won't be," was her quick retort. Sam started to argue some more, but Jenna quickly spoke up to cut him off when she remembered that winning a verbal spat with her brother was not a priority at the moment. "Listen, I don't wanna argue, alright? We're trying to go as fast as we can, it's just…" She trailed off and eyed a car that appeared to have recently been on fire. The charred remains of the car's owner were still inside, and the sight made her stomach turn unpleasantly. "It's hard out here. Getting to Georgia's no walk in the park, you know?"

Sam heaved over the phone. In her head she could practically picture him frowning and running a hand through his hair, as he always did when he was agitated. "Yeah, I know. Sorry for snapping at you, sis. I'm just worried about you guys," he apologized, his tone much more gentle now. He paused, then asked, "How's mom?"

Jenna glanced over her shoulder to see that Renee was still seated in the truck with Jon's mother, Kelly. She was gnawing nervously at her fingernails and peering out into the street with wary eyes. "Mom's…fine. Or at least as fine as she can be. You know how she can get," she told Sam with a sigh.

"Yeah, I know." There was a short pause on his end before he spoke again. "You guys run into a lot of trouble?"

Jenna could have told him about the gang of corpses Jon and Bill had fought through at the hardware store three days ago when they stopped to search for supplies. She also could have told him about the group of survivors they'd nearly had an all out brawl with at an abandoned Piggly Wiggly the day before. She decided against bringing up either event, however, knowing that it would only make Sam more worried than he already was.

"Not really," Jenna lied.

"Good," Sam said, sounding relieved. Jenna couldn't help feeling a little guilty about the false sense of security she'd just provided him with, but told herself it was for the better. "God, I wish I was there with y'all," Sam added with a sigh.

The guilt in his voice suddenly made her throat feel a little constricted. Jenna had to take a deep breath to keep herself from dissolving into tears right then and there, wanting so badly to see her brother that it almost hurt. They'd always been close, had always looked out for each other. Though she loved Jon and trusted him with her life, Sam was, and always would be, her true rock. "Me too, Sam," she managed to croak out. "Me too."

Voices suddenly sounded in the background on Sam's end of the line. Jenna listened as her brother had a quick, muffled conversation with someone until he finally turned his attention back to her again. "Hey, I have to go," he said reluctantly, his voice full of regret. Then he dropped his voice a little, making her strain a little harder to hear his next words. "Listen, sis. Things are really starting to get crazy. You may think it's bad now, but this is only the beginning. It's only gonna get worse from here," he told her seriously, making her go tense with apprehension. Considering how hellacious everything already was, the thought of things getting even worse sent a shiver of fear down her spine. "You do whatever you have to in order to survive, do you understand me? Even if it means fighting off other survivors or…" He hesitated for a second. "Or defending yourself from your own people."

Jenna looked back toward her group and frowned, positive she knew what he was trying to tell her but still not liking it one bit. "What are you saying, Sam?" she asked slowly.

"You know exactly what I'm saying, Jen," he countered pointedly. "Once someone turns into one of them, there's no going back. If someone turns, don't hesitate. Take – them – out."

Jenna gulped and turned her eyes up to the sky, having to suck in a steadying breath as Sam's instructions shook her to the very core. The thought of anyone in her group turning into one of those mindless monsters left a sick feeling in her stomach as it was, but the thought of actually having to kill someone that she cared about, even if they were a zombie, left her fighting the urge to vomit. "I…I don't know if I can," Jenna admitted in a strained voice.

"Jenna, you're not gonna really have any other choice," Sam stated, leaving no room for argument. "And you're tougher than you think you are, sis." He might have continued on with more encouraging words, but the same voices on his end began speaking again. This time they sounded much more impatient. Sam quickly called to someone that he'd be along shortly, then turned his attention back to her. "I really have to go now. But remember what I said, okay?"

"Okay," Jenna said, frowning deeply. She didn't want to get off the phone with him. She would have kept him on the phone for the rest of the trip if she could have.

"I'll…I'll see you soon, alright sis?" The reluctance in his voice let her know he didn't want to get off the phone either.

It took Jenna a few tries, but she finally managed to work past the emotion that threatened to steal her voice away. "Yeah, see you soon," she said softly. "I love you, Sam. So much."

"I love you, too, sis. Be careful out there."

Jenna jerked awake when a sudden, resonating BOOM thundered through the air.

The fog of sleep immediately cleared from her head and Jenna, now wide awake, surged to her feet in a flash, blinking rapidly and trying to force her eyes to adjust to the blinding sunlight overhead. What in the hell just happened? The ground was trembling underneath her feet and the chompers down below were going wild from the noise. She started looking around in confusion, trying to find the source of the disturbance, then froze when she finally found it. There was a huge, dark mushroom cloud forming off in the distance, and she instantly knew that something like that could only be the result of a very powerful and very deadly bomb going off.

Jenna brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and stared at it in astonishment, standing rooted to the spot as she watched the cloud expand and creep up higher into the sky. Almost immediately she wondered if the bomb had been military. She remembered hearing about the bombings that had taken place all around the country while they were en route to Georgia, had even driven through the destroyed remains of several major cities on her way in. Was the military still active in these parts? Was this another attempt to clean up the city? The possibility sent a rush of excitement through her. If it was military, what if Sam was among them? Even if he wasn't, would there be a possibility they could take her to Fort Benning if she managed to get in contact with them? This could be her golden ticket to her brother.

As quickly as her excitement had come, however, it just as quickly began to dissipate. She remembered that the bombs that had been dropped in other cities had been dropped from above, via helicopters and planes. She scanned the sky, but there was nothing to see other than blue skies, birds, and that frightening looking mushroom cloud still growing ever larger. With a frown of defeat, she decided that maybe it hadn't been military. Maybe it had been something else.

Sounds of increasing activity below finally caught her attention. Jenna tore her eyes away from the sky and stepped to the edge of the building to see what was happening on the streets down below. Not so surprisingly, the commotion seemed to have roused the attention of every stumbling, bumbling zombie for miles around, luring chompers from secret hiding spots and sending them flooding into the streets. They came stepping out of stores, pouring in from alleyways, emerging from abandoned vehicles. The street down below became so packed that, within minutes, she felt like she was looking down on a Mardi Gras parade.

Well, so much for finding food, Jenna thought to herself cynically. Because there was no way she was going anywhere now, not with that many flesh-eaters packing the streets. There were simply far too many chompers for her to handle on her own - she wouldn't have nearly enough weaponry, or strength, to take on that many. Jenna knew she'd get swamped the second she left the safety of the roof if she attempted to get back to the truck she'd parked on the side of the store. She was stuck and she knew it. Her plans to pack up and continue on in the direction of Highway-85 had now effectively been ruined for the second day in a row.

Jenna stepped away from the edge of the building with a scowl and flopped ungracefully into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the dark cloud that was now the cause of all her current problems. There was nothing to do now that wouldn't end in disaster. The only option that didn't have death written all over it is to wait it out and hope that the mongrels below would disperse once they forgot about the blast that had just rocked through Atlanta. And hopefully that would happen sooner rather than later.

One hour turned into two, which then turned into three. Before Jenna knew it the sun had travelled high into the sky, signaling to her that it was now the afternoon. There were still dozens of chompers littering the streets, but their numbers had lessened some after a fairly large group broke off and went moseying in the direction of downtown. After some serious deliberation, she finally decided that she couldn't afford to wait around any longer and that the time had come to make a run for it. If Jenna left now she'd be able to get out of the city and make it to 85 before dark, where she could make camp for the night and then take the next morning to try her hand at hunting. As long as she could find a way to distract the chompers still hanging around and open up a window of escape for herself, Jenna should be able to book it to the truck and get the hell out of there before things got too dicey.

Jenna finally started packing up her things to leave. Her food, her camping chair, and her supplies were all packed up in record timing, then set by the ladder she'd used to get onto the roof. She then went back to the edge of the building and eyed the streets below her, surveying the surrounding area as she tried to come up with a plan. As her eyes landed on some of the abandoned cars in the street, she was hit with inspiration. Jenna turned and did a sweep of the roof, looking for anything that could be useful. The only things at her disposal were some loose chunks of concrete lying around and a few pieces of old, rusty rebar.

This'll have to do, Jenna thought to herself before starting to collect her new ammunition. She quickly rounded up a few sizeable chunks of concrete and piled them up by the edge of the building furthest away from both her truck and the chompers loitering on the road. Then Jenna took a peek over the side building again, peering down into the street below, and quickly decided that the fancy looking car parked across the street was probably going to be her best target.

Jenna groaned a little as she hauled up a chunk of concrete about the size of a watermelon. Then, with a mighty effort, she lobbed it at the car. She cursed when the concrete fell a few feet short of the car, but brightened a bit when she realized the sound of the concrete smashing against the pavement still managed to catch the attention of a few nearby chompers. While some of the zombies went to inspect the source of the new noise, Jenna grabbed another piece of concrete and threw it harder – this time the chunk landed squarely on the hood of the car with a loud BANG. When Jenna finally snatched up a piece of rebar and chucked it at the car as hard as she could, it shattered the windshield. And just as Jenna had been hoping for, the silence of the street was suddenly shattered by the car's loud, wailing alarm.

With a smile of triumph, Jenna watched as the chompers down below started to crowd around the screaming car. But now wasn't the time to celebrate her success – now it was time to move.

She turned and hurried back to the ladder, quickly slinging her bag of supplies and her camping chair over her shoulder, then began the trek down. It was about a twenty-foot descent back to the truck, and as Jenna started hastily making her way down the ladder, her heart started hammering anxiously against her ribs. She knew she had to hurry because it would only take the attention of one chomper to attract the rest, so she willed herself to move as fast as she could without slipping and falling. But her quick movements were making the bag on her shoulder sway wildly, and when it suddenly swung forward connected hard with the ladder, Jenna cringed – maybe it was just because she was in an alleyway or maybe it was because of her own fear, but the CLANG of her metal tools on the metal ladder seemed more magnified than usual and immediately had her freezing on the spot, praying desperately that the sound wouldn't drawn any attention.

She wasn't that lucky. A few chompers that had been stumbling past the entrance to the alleyway had heard it and paused, their heads turning curiously in her direction.

"Shit," Jenna cursed aloud as they began growling and heading towards her.

A quick glance downward showed her that she was only about ten feet away from the truck parked down below, so she quickly began to scramble downward again, hoping all the while that she could make it into the vehicle before the chompers wandered too close.

As soon as she dropped down into the bed of the truck with a hollow boom, Jenna pulled out the handgun tucked into the waistband of her pants and aimed it at the two walkers. They were are all but running by now and, for a moment, she strongly considered taking both of them out. When she saw that more of the undead were beginning to come into the alley, however, she nixed the plan and hopped over the side to hurry into the driver's seat, throwing her things carelessly to the floorboard of the passenger side before getting in and securely locking the door behind her.

Within seconds the chompers had reached the truck and were banging on the window right next to her head, making her jump with fright. The gruesome things were groaning with hunger and clawing at the windows, and the ruckus they were stirring up was only drawing more attention. Jenna gulped, praying to everything holy that the windows wouldn't shatter under their insistent banging, then finally pulled the keys from her pocket and shoved them into the ignition. As the truck roared to life, she didn't waste even a second – Jenna moved the shifter into reverse and slammed her foot on the gas, the tires screeching over the pavement as she reversed out of the alley, the truck bouncing wildly as she backed right over several undead bastards that had gotten in the way.

As the truck went careening out into the street, Jenna slammed on the brakes and took a second to assess the situation. Instantly, she knew she was in trouble. The alarm of the car was still echoing off the nearby buildings, but the hoard around her now seemed far more interested in the large, black truck that had just made a less-than-subtle appearance. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, her truck was surrounded, and even though Jon's truck had been decked out to withstand chompers, Jenna knew that it wouldn't be able to stand up against the sheer number of chompers swarming the truck like a bunch of angry bees. As zombies began climbing onto the hood and into the bed, she suddenly didn't care what direction she was headed in, she just needed to get the hell out of there. And fast.

Jenna had just moved the shifter into drive when the passenger window suddenly shattered under the onslaught of the numerous, pounding hands of the chompers. She cursed as glass flew at her and immediately slammed her foot on the gas again, cringing when she mowed right over those standing at the hood and ended up with blood spattered all over the windshield. The wipers manage to swipe away most of the blood, but her vision of the road was still poor. Remnants of the reddish-black ooze clouded up the glass, while a chomper that had managed to get up - and stay up - on the hood was right in her line of vision, grappling at the glass of the windshield and baring its decaying teeth at her. Jenna slammed on the brakes to throw it off, smiling in satisfaction when it went flying through the air, but the sudden halt created an entirely new, unexpected problem. The mongrels that had climbed into the bed of the truck were also thrown and suddenly came soaring into the back window, busting right through the glass.

Jenna shielded her face as shards of glass went flying in every direction. When she chanced a look back, she saw that one of the zombies had landed in the backseat while two more were about halfway through the window. The two in the window quickly began to pull themselves the rest of the way through, uncaring of the jagged, sharp glass slicing into their bodies and making blood pour everywhere. Within seconds she could feel the hands of all three starting to paw at her shoulders, their growling sounds of hunger drawing closer to her ears. Jenna snatched up her pistol in the blink of an eye, turning it on the chompers behind her.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Her ears rang from the loud shots, but she did her best to work past it as she shot the chompers trying to get to her. With the immediate threat gone and the chompers both on - and in - her truck taken care of, Jenna took a moment to catch her breath and tried not to gag when she realized she was covered in blood again. But her relief at having survived the first waves of attack ended up being short lived as soon as she took a look out the window.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Between the massive explosion earlier and the commotion she'd stirred up in her loud escape attempt, it seemed as though every zombie in Atlanta had taken to the streets in search of an impending meal. There were dozens of them now, and no matter which direction she looked there was a labyrinth of undead corpses laid out before her. Jenna cursed under her breath and craned her neck, looking all around as she tried to figure out which would be the best way to go. Seeing as she couldn't risk barging through anymore large groups – at least, not with two of her windows busted out – she finally chose the road that looked least occupied and tore off in that direction.

The past few minutes had been so chaotic that Jenna wasn't even sure if the blood on her arms and clothes belonged to her, to the zombies, or a little bit of both. There was a stinging cut on her cheek that could have either been from the showering of glass or from the chompers, but there wasn't any time to worry about it right then, let alone stop to inspect it. The carcasses in the truck were absolutely assaulting her senses with their grotesque scent, but she kept pushing forward, weaving the truck in and out of the chompers that made futile grabs for her vehicle as it went roaring past. She turned on a side road, heading away from the thick of the monsters, and finally began to relax in her seat when she caught sight of a clear looking road up ahead. Jenna glanced in the review mirror to watch the chompers grow smaller the further she drove, then pulled a face when she looked at the dead zombies in her back seat. They were going to be one hell of a mess to clean up, that was for sure.

Had she been looking forward and paying attention to where she was going instead of worrying about what was behind her, she might've seen the caravan of cars that had just started to make their way past the entrance of the alley. When she did finally turn her eyes back to the road, relieved that she had managed to escape that whole ordeal alive, Jenna suddenly felt her heart lurch when she realized that she was only seconds away from t-boning a very large RV.

"Shit!"

Jenna slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel hard to the right, making the large truck skid and circle around as she avoided hitting the RV. A pick-up that had been at the end of the caravan quickly swerved out of the way before the tail end of the truck could clip it, the trucks missing each other by inches. In her panic Jenna jerked the wheel back in the opposite direction, trying to get a handle on the truck again, but with increasing panic she realized there was nothing she could go. The truck was simply going too fast and was too large for her to regain control of it. The world became nothing but a blur of color as the truck spun around wildly, the tires skidding and squealing over the pavement. After what felt like an eternity, the truck finally slammed hard into the side of a building and came to an abrupt, unceremonious halt.

Pain erupted everywhere – her head, her shoulder, her neck. After a few seconds she became aware of the sounds of car doors opening and mingled shouts of confusion, concern, and surprise filling the air, but in her disoriented state she could only sit there and groan in pain, too out of it to comprehend what was happening around her. Jenna knew as the smell of smoke and burnt rubber broke through the putrid scent of the dead carcasses in her truck that she should probably be trying to get out of the vehicle before it caught on fire, or worse. But her limbs felt as heavy as lead and didn't seem to want to do anything her befuddled brain told them to. Jenna could barely find the strength to raise a shaky hand up to her head, let alone climb out of the wrecked truck.

" – the hell was that?"

" – they alright?!"

" – the same truck we saw a few days ago?"

The voices were drawing closer, as were the sounds of numerous pairs of feet travelling toward her. Suddenly the passenger door was yanked open. To Jenna's immense surprise, a familiar voice reached her ears. "Jenna?" the voice questioned in complete surprise. "Shit, Jenna!"

Some of the fog clouding her head started to clear away, and though it took some effort, she finally managed to turn her head so she could see who was addressing her. When her eyes landed on Rick Grimes, she couldn't have possibly felt more surprised unless the zombies she'd just escaped from came running out to greet them with food and good tidings, then proceeded to announce that all of this had been one very long and very elaborate prank and that they were, in fact, still human.

"Deputy Do-Right, we meet again." The greeting words slipped out without her really even realizing it. "Come here often?"

Rick's frown was immediate. "She's disoriented," he stated obviously.

While Jenna closed her eyes and tried to fight through the pain coursing through her body, a snort followed Rick's statement. "See them geeks in there? She's probably bit." She knew that voice and that accent – it was Daryl.

"Help me out," Rick immediately said to Daryl, ignoring the man's comment.

In Jenna's disoriented state, she was only vaguely aware of the fact that Rick had climbed into the truck and locked his hands underneath her armpits. But the moment he started tugging her out the driver's seat, the wave of pain that coursed through her threw the world back into sharp clarity. It was obvious he was trying to be gentle, but the movements aggravated whatever injuries she'd sustained from the crash and had her snapping back to reality as she cried out in pain. Once Rick had finally gotten her to the passenger seat, another pair of hands that she could only assume belonged to Daryl wrapped around her legs to help carry her. A few seconds later she was out of the truck and being gingerly laid down on the street.

Rick's face was hovering over hers in an instant. "Are you bit?" he asked worriedly, eyes sweeping over her form for signs of injury. "Are ya scratched?"

Jenna winced and shook her head. "I don't…don't think so," she managed out through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure?" Another, unfamiliar voice asked from somewhere to her left.

Jenna briefly raised her eyes to look at the elderly man that had just spoken to her. "No," she answered truthfully. The grey-haired, grey-bearded man looked concerned, though whether it was for his own safety or hers, she wasn't really all that sure.

"What happened?" Rick asked, drawing her attention to him again.

Jenna was instantly and vividly reminded of the hasty escape she'd just had to make. Panic rose within her as she remembered how many chompers had been behind her and how close they might be by now. She started to sit up in alarm, finding that she needed Ricks's help to get fully upright. "Chompers…tons of them," she said through heavy breaths, casting a wary look in the direction she'd just come from. "They were right behind me."

"Whaddya mean tons?" Daryl asked sharply.

Jenna turned her eyes over to Daryl, who had his crossbow in hand and a very alarmed expression on his face. "Meaning a whole shit load," Jenna clarified, hoping that would help them grasp the severity of the situation. "And they're headed right this way."

Rick seemed to make up his mind in an instant. "We better get the hell outta here then," he said, before taking hold of her right arm and draping it around his shoulders, obviously intending to pick her up and cart her off in the direction of their caravan.

"Rick, are you sure –" yet another voice began to question uncertainly.

"What if she's bit?" a female voice asked next. "What if – "

"Daryl, get 'er other arm," Rick instructed, completely ignoring any arguments or statements being directed at him.

Daryl didn't look very thrilled to do so, but moved to Jenna's side anyway. As soon as he started to lift her other arm, however, she let out another sharp cry of pain. He immediately stopped moving her arm and started prodding at her shoulder with less than gentle fingers, making her whimper in pain. "Shoulder's dislocated," he quickly determined.

And before she could realize what he was about to do, Daryl slung the strap of his crossbow over his shoulder, grabbed her arm, then jerked her shoulder back into place with a firm yank. Jenna screamed in pain, her fist tightening on Rick's shirt in response, before she sent every curse word she knew in Daryl's direction. If her good arm hadn't already been around Rick's shoulder, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have punched Daryl right in the face for what he'd just done. Daryl seemed unaffected by the amount of colorful names she was calling him, though, and wordlessly draped her arm around his shoulders, ignoring her protests when the move caused her already tender shoulder even more discomfort. Then they started off in the direction of the caravan.

"Take her to my RV," the elderly man instructed as he hurried to walk in front of them, leading the group back to the caravan. "I've got plenty of room."

The thought of leaving behind Jon's truck, as well as all the supplies she'd accumulated over the past few months, didn't sit well with Jenna at all. "My supplies, my weapons – " she started to protest.

"Walkers!"

The cry made her fall silent and had everyone turning wide, frightened eyes towards the alley. The zombies had managed to figure out which direction Jenna had gone and were now flooding into the street, crazed by the sight of so many live humans. Daryl cursed loudly as he and Rick quickened the pace, forcing Jenna along faster, while the rest of the group that had been standing around and watching the scene unfold immediately scrambled back into their cars, preparing to flee.

"Hurry!" the elderly man urged as he took off running for the RV.

"No time!" Daryl called back, before jerking his head toward the pick-up. "Head for the truck!" he then shouted to Rick.

"Rick! Rick!" a woman started shouting from one of the cars at the head of the line, sounding frantic.

"Lori, go!" Rick called back. "We'll catch up!"

The street filled with the sounds of approaching chompers, slamming car doors, and vehicle engines starting up as Jenna, Daryl, and Rick covered the short distance to the pickup that she'd nearly clipped in the crash. While the rest of the caravan began to pull away and make their escape, Jenna was practically thrown inside what she could only assume was Daryl's truck. She watched, feeling completely and utterly useless, as Daryl raised his crossbow and took out a few of flesh-eaters that had gotten too close, laying out cover fire for Rick as the man hurried around the front of the truck and made for the passenger side door. Rick produced a pistol once he was at the door, shooting a chomper square between the eyes, before sliding into the truck next to Jenna and slamming the door shut.

"C'mon, Daryl!"

Daryl immediately turned and got in, securely shutting the door behind him and carelessly tossing his crossbow into Jenna's lap. Then he was starting the truck up and pulling away, running over an unfortunate corpse that had stepped into their path as they went speeding off to catch up with the rest of the convoy.

Thoughts?