A/N: Sorry about the wait! Every time I sat down to try to write this, I couldn't. I knew what I wanted to happen, I just couldn't type it out. I wasn't originally going to end this where I did but it would've ended up taking even longer to get chapter 3 out if I hadn't. I put some more detail in so make sure you read from the beginning. I'm not really happy with all of this chapter but I wanted to get it posted. Also, I posted Harlie's outfit on my profile so you can check that out if you'd like.

I hope you're happy with the version that won!


Previously

I bring the thumb and pointer finger of my right hand to my mouth and whistle the low tune that Rusty and Callie always come to. Callie looks up at me.

Rusty doesn't respond.


My heart jumps into my throat and I feel suddenly dizzy. Rusty always comes when I whistle for him.

"He suppose ta' come when you do that?" The guy holding the crossbow next to me asks.

I nod slowly and I can practically feel the three of them tense up.

"Rick," Shane hisses. I turn my head and I can see that Rick, the obvious leader, is starting to look nervous and regretful. I'm not sure if it's because he's starting to believe that this is a setup or if it's because he thinks something might have happened to Sophia because of me. Either way, it actually bugs me. I don't know why, but it does.

Callie and I move towards the edge of the hill, jumping down onto the dirt near the dead moaner. I pull my gun back out. I start to make my way towards the place I'd hid Sophia even though a part of me wants to run away from here, and fast. I try not to jump to terrible conclusions but I can't help it. If something happened to Rusty, to Sophia.. I don't know how I'll survive.

I had tried to not let myself get attached to Rusty or Callie, knowing how easy it'd be to lose them in this new world. But in barely a month, I've come to love them like I've had them since they were puppies, like they've been with me for years. They've kept me going even though I didn't see a reason to. I don't know if I could handle losing either of them. And if something happened to a helpless little girl, because of me? Well, I can't handle that.

Callie follows me through the water. I can hear the men making their way down to the creek too.

When I reach the hole, after forcing myself to raise the gun in my hand, I hesitantly kneel down to pull a section of the covering back. I see immediately why Rusty didn't come to me.

Sophia has her arms wrapped tightly above Rusty's shoulders, a dirty doll I hadn't noticed before in her hand with her face buried in his fur. Her small body is shaking. Rusty couldn't move unless he really tried (like to kill a moaner). He sits perfectly still, letting her hold onto him.

My eyes run frantically over Rusty at the sight of the darkened blood on the branches and the white fur of his paws and chest. I don't see any bite marks. None of the blood is his. Relief hits me like a tidal wave.

The gun I gave Sophia is sitting on my bag. I'm assuming she either couldn't bring herself to shoot the walker or Rusty killed it before it had to come to that. It's likely that second option. I lean in closer, letting go of the brances. They fall around the back of my shoulders, making the hole darker from the lack of sunlight.

"Sophia?" I whisper. Sophia's head slowly lifts from the dark fun on Rusty's back, tears running down her pale cheeks. Her arms start to loosen from around Rusty's strong neck. She is okay too. The blood isn't hers either. I sigh in complete and utter relief. Lowering my gun and eyes, I put it back into my holster. Just as I'm about to snap the holster shut, I'm attacked from the front and nearly fall back at the force.

For just a paranoid second, where every thing bad about this world creeps in, I think I missed something. That I messed up. That Sophia had turned. Or even that this whole thing was staged. Like I said, paranoid. And then I realize. Sophia isn't attacking me. She's hugging me, very tightly, with her face buried into my neck and her tears wetting my skin. I don't have to try to recall any polite social skills to know to wrap my own arms around her, squeezing her lightly. It's weird to be around living people. I find that surprising to realize. My entire career before this involved using a large amount of social skills and I spent most of my time around other people. Friends, people who worked for me, people I was working for. It was a daily thing and now human contact feels foreign.

I'm drawn from my thoughts when Rusty starts to growl deep in his chest. I know that it's because of the presence of the three men standing in the creek who currently have no clue what's going on. It tells me that whatever happened while I was leading the other walkers away, it's caused him to warm up to Sophia a lot and become very protective of her.

"Calm," I say in a firm tone, while at the same time removing my left hand from Sophia's back to hold my palm in front of his face. Rusty follows the command, no longer growling. Instead, he leans forward and noses at my palm. I move it to the side of his neck and rub it along the non bloody fur there a few times. He stands onto strong legs and leans towards Sophia. After rubbing his nose against her bare arm in his own form of giving comfort, he disappears through the branches, most likely to join Callie and inspect the men I've given the okay about for himself.

I hear gasps when the back of Rusty's body disappears from my eyesight. I know that it's because of the blood on him that's obviously not his own. They're probably putting it together that he was the one that killed the moaner. Still wanna call him a mutt now, Shane?

I grab the gun I gave Sophia and put it in the side pocket of my bag, sliding my arm through one of the straps. I wrap my arms securely around Sophia and back up. I don't stand up until I'm not at risk of smacking my head against the hard rock. We both pop through the cover at the same time.

"Sophia?" All three men ask. And then Rick comes rushing over, her name no longer leaving his mouth in a question. He touches his hand to the back of her head and lets out a loud shaky breath. He looks as though he's so relieved he's about to pass out or maybe even cry.

Shane and no-name both start to rush forward too before no-name stops. He looks like he's remembering or realizing something right before he stops, glancing around uncomfortably.

"Glad you're okay kid," he says gruffly. My brows furrow slightly. Weird.

Sophia doesn't say anything, just continues to hold onto me. She doesn't say anything either when Rick and Shane both try to get a response out of her, including asking if she's okay. I start to worry she may be even more traumatized than I thought she'd be. I was never good at psychology but I'm guessing near-death experiences can either help a person's state of mind or hurt it.

"I want my momma," she whispers so quietly, I almost think for a second I imagined it. I meet Rick's eyes, which are becoming increasingly worried again.

"She wants her mom?" I didn't mean to, but it comes out like a question. For all I know, her mom could be dead.

"We'll take you to her Sophia," Shane answers from next to Rick. Rick looks at Sophia and then back to me.

"Would you like to come back with us?"

"Rick -" Shane starts to say, although he actually looks and sounds a lot calmer. He doesn't look like he wants to feed me to the moaners. I'm guessing it's because of the relief. Rick turns to him.

"Carol would want to meet the woman that saved her daughter, Shane," Rick tells him and then turns back to me. "Would you?"

No.

"Um, that's alright. I'm sure.. Carol will be happy either way. Here, uh, why don't you take her to her mom. I'm sure she's worried," I lean towards Rick so that I can pass Sophia into his arms. I'm met with a strength I didn't know a child could possess and Sophia crying out "no!", holding on tighter to me. I have to lean away from Rick so that Sophia will stop cutting off my air supply with her arms.

"Looks like you're gonna have to," Rick says, the barest hint of a smile on his exhausted looking face.

I sigh. I guess so. I had planned to just wait it out until their group left the highway before I went to my truck. Clean Rusty up in the meantime. Apparently, it'll have to wait. I nod and then start walking back towards the trees where I found Sophia, so that I can get my arrows back. I whistle quietly and Callie and Rusty run to my sides. Callie is still on guard. I hadn't trusted these men enough on the walk back to the creek to let my guard down around them. I still don't, but I stop to give Callie the same command I gave Rusty and then start walking again.

When we reach the three bodies on the ground, I bend with more difficulty than I care to admit to pull one of my arrows out. By the time I go to grab the rest, Rick has already done it. He holds the two bloody arrows out to me.

"I had it," I say after taking the arrows from his hand. I barely refrain from saying it rudely. Just because it's the apocalypse doesn't mean you can't have manners. I decide to ignore how much that sounded like my mother.

I have nowhere to put the arrows. My quiver is on my back and I don't want to risk putting the infected blood anywhere near Sophia's face. I shove them into the same pocket on my bag that I'd put the gun in. I'll just have to wash out the pocket when I clean Rusty up later.

Putting the arrows into the pocket with the gun reminds me of the group I'd stolen the gun from in the first place. In all the drama, I'd completely forgotten that they could be out here looking for whoever stole from them. Oops. "We should go," I say, walking a bit faster.

It's quiet the rest of the way to the highway. Rick leads the way, with the man holding the crossbow on my right and Shane walking in back. Shane has apparently decided I'm not completely evil for the time being. To some extent, I can understand his suspicion. But if I was in a group and someone saved a child from said group, I wouldn't be as suspicious as him. Okay, I would be. But I wouldn't make up ridiculous accusations.. well, I would. But I would keep it to myself until I could tell someone I trust, not blurt it out at the person.

The fact that I'm pretty much surrounded and would have a hard time defending myself if one of them decided to trying anything does not go unnoticed by me. Like I said before, paranoid. It sort of makes me want to demand they get away from me or at least back away about 10 feet each. The faith I have in my ability to get out of a situation like that is really the only thing that stops me from looking crazy for doing so. And the knowledge that if they tried, Callie and Rusty would be on them before they could inflict much damage.

How I feel isn't completely unjustified. You should never expect anyone to be a good person these days. Things changed, people changed. For many, morals went out the window when the dead started eating the living. I'd say I have my morals. Although, I'd kill someone if I have to without much guilt after. So, I guess I don't have all of my morals still. But really, who does?

I glance curiously over at no-name, the weird thing at the creek popping up in my head. It's like he was embarrassed to show how much he cared that Sophia was okay. I'm really sick of referring to him as no-name.

"What's your name?" I put a lot of effort into making my voice sound as friendly as possible. It's not with much success. I'm again reminded of how easy it was for me to sound friendly a couple of months ago. To be friendly without even having to force it.

He looks at me for a few seconds, glancing at Sophia and then back at me with an unreadable look on his face. "Daryl."

I look at him, thinking the name over. I've never met anyone named Daryl, but it fits him.