It was morning, and Anna did not want to be awake. She and Carl had spent the night playing 1974 on the Gameboy as a means of lightening their spirits. When Daryl and Rick had finally returned from their search without Sophia, everyone was crestfallen – most of all, Carol.
"How could you just leave her out there?" She asked. "How could you just leave her?" Her normally mousy voice was now hard, urgent, and accusing.
Rick took a step back before taking a knee in front of her as he tried to explain his decision. Shane tried to back him up, affirming that it was the only choice Rick could make, and Lori tried to keep Carol calm by rubbing her back in soothing circles.
But none of it mattered. "My little girl got left alone in the woods."
At some point in the night, Carl had asked Anna if he could go with the group on the morning search for Sophia. Anna explained he'd have to ask his parents.
"How do I get them to let me go?"
Anna thought for a moment, trying to decide for herself if he should go. In the end, she figured if his parents really wanted him to stay behind, it didn't matter what he said – or what she told him to say.
"Tell them that they'll need all the people they can get to cover more ground; that should convince them."
She'd heard him repeating the assertion throughout the night until he finally passed out from exhaustion. When the group was gathering to leave, all armed with an assortment of bladed weapons – save for Rick and Shane, who carried guns, and Daryl with his crossbow – Carl approached Lori and Rick, determined that he would be joining them, repeating what Anna had told him to.
Anna grinned to herself when Rick agreed to let him go. She picked up the last remaining weapon – a machete – while ignoring the grumbling and cursing of Andrea for not having her gun.
"This is bullshit." She said, along with other colorful phrases. Anna found that it was quickly grinding on her nerves.
"Did they take your gun, too?"
At first, Anna didn't realize Andrea was addressing her, but when she saw that it was just the two of them, Anna nodded, leveling an impassive stare at the blonde woman.
"We deserved to go out our own way."
Anna had retreated to the bathroom the second everyone settled in a non-corpse-filled area of the old-folk's home. Her hands had been shaking the entire time, and she knew that Anderson had noticed. She ignored his curious glances, the silent question of "Are you okay?"
She couldn't be around him, or Glenn, who was quietly crying in a corner by himself. She couldn't be around the children asking their mothers why they were not allowed further into the compound, or around Rick, who wore guilt like a cloak, or even Daryl, who wore his indifference like armor.
The redness of her face had her cursing herself for crying the entire time they gathered up the Vatos-group. Rick and Shane had agreed they couldn't stay for very long – at least not long enough to bury everyone. They had to get to Fort Benning.
But, Anna didn't want to go to Fort Benning. She didn't want to bring whatever curse seemed to follow her; everyone she came to care about died. It was only a matter of time before her group perished, too. First it was Evan, then Jim, then the Vatos. Who would be next? Anderson? Glenn? Daryl?
She didn't want any of them to get hurt – not a single person in her newfound family. Her very existence put them at risk, and she could not have that.
Her fingers twitched around the gun tucked in her pants. It would be so easy, and the others would be fine, they'd be safe.
"Anna."
Anna shook her head.
"Actually, I gave Anderson my gun the night we got to the city." She didn't want to think about that night, or the way Daryl had looked at her hand on the gun. He still couldn't look at her. She wished Daryl hadn't found her – in the bathroom or in the woods.
Andrea seemed to give up on the discussion with Anna, realizing there wasn't much the younger woman could do in their similar circumstances. Instead, she decided to go straight to the keeper of the guns. Dale.
"Andrea, I'm begging you, don't put me in this position."
"I'm not going out there without my gun." Andrea declared, ignoring Dale's plea. "I'll even say please."
"I'm doing this for you."
"No, Dale, you're doing it for you." She snapped. "You need to stop. What do you think is gonna happen? I'm gonna stick it in my mouth and pull the trigger the moment you hand it to me?"
Dale seemed to know he was going to lose this argument – if one could really call it that – but he couldn't seem to give up his stance.
"I know you're angry at me. That much is clear. But if I hadn't done what I did, you'd be dead now."
"Jenner gave us an option. I chose to stay."
"You chose suicide." Suicide. Anna flinched at the word. She'd never said it before… she could never bring herself to. And here was Dale, saying it so easily.
"Have you ever tried to?" Glenn finally asked. His voice was so quiet he was afraid, hoping, she hadn't heard him.
"So, what's that to you? You barely know me."
"I know Amy's death devastated you."
"Keep her out of this." She stated, skipping the warnings. "This is not about Amy. This is about us. And if I decided that I had nothing left to live for, who the hell are you to tell me otherwise? To force my hand like that?" Anna clenched her fists at Andrea's tirade. Her heart pounded in her ears with anger at the woman's behavior towards someone who so blatantly cared about her well-being.
"I saved your life."
"No, Dale. I saved yours. You forced that on me. I didn't want your blood on my hands and that is the only reason I left that building. What did you expect? What, I'd have some kind of epiphany? Some life-affirming catharsis?"
"Maybe just a little gratitude."
"Gratitude? I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by drooling freaks. That was my choice. You took that away from me, Dale."
"But—"
"But you know better? All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless, horrific nightmare we live every day. I wasn't hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale. And you expect gratitude?" Choice. Choice was all that mattered in the end – wasn't it? To make the choices you have left – it might even be the most important thing now, Anna thought.
"I don't know what to say."
"I'm not your little girl. I'm not your wife. And I am sure as hell not your problem. That's all there is to say." And having successfully ripped into Dale, Andrea walked off – though, still without her gun.
The group, having witnessed the encounter, dispersed rather awkwardly. Anna simply shook her head. She didn't know who was right. Perhaps both… or neither. She didn't know – and it wasn't up to her to decide who was.
"Anna." Anna jumped, her thoughts interrupted by Anderson. "I spoke with Rick about you carrying a gun – I would feel better if you had something better to defend yourself with than a machete."
Anna stared at the gun, considering it. It was sleek and black. The same gun Evan and Anderson had given her when they first left the apartment in favor of the outdoors. The same gun she had put to her temple not too long ago, ready to pull the trigger until her companions returned, one of them wounded. The same gun she had given to Anderson last night after leaving the bathroom, Daryl trailing behind her.
She felt her fingers twitch, ready to take the gun from his hands, but she paused.
"No." she said, thinking better of taking it. "I think it's best if you hold onto it. For now." She clarified.
Anderson searched her face, looking for something Anna couldn't fathom, before he tucked the weapon into his pants and gestured for her to keep up with him as he turned away and followed the group into the woods.
.
"She could be in there." Shane said.
Anna stared at the tent. It was the exact same – save for the color – as the tent Evan had died in. The surroundings were almost identical, too, and she hated the trembling in her hands at the sight of it.
"Could be a whole bunch of things in there." Daryl replied, beginning the approach first. Rick gestured for the rest of the group to wait before he and Shane followed.
Everyone watched eagerly as Daryl inspected the tent, hunting knife in hand and ready to strike at any threat.
"Carol." Rick called softly, and the woman jogged over to them.
The others cautiously followed after her in time to hear her call out.
"Sophia, sweetie. Are you in there?" Nothing.
Behind her, inside the tent, came a rustling. She turned slowly, her eyes wide.
"Evan?" Anna called hesitantly. The rustling grew more urgent at the sound of her voice. Her heart began to race in blind joy. She dropped the shovel and launched herself at the opening of the tent, making quick work of unzipping the entrance.
"Evan!" She smiled broadly, fully prepared to wrap her arms around her friend, when she felt the air leave her.
Anna shook her head, trying to erase the memories as Daryl unzipped the tent. She held her breath, waiting for Sophia to launch herself out of the tent at him, dead and hungry. He drew the tent flap back and….
Nothing. Nothing happened. Daryl disappeared inside the tent, coughing and covering his face. She didn't have to be any closer to smell the putrid scent of rotting flesh.
Rick and Shane were coughing, trying to get the offending odor out of their mouths, as they stood the closest – excluding Daryl.
"Daryl?" Carol called. Anna could tell she was readying herself for the worst news of her life. "Daryl?" She repeated when he didn't answer.
He finally exited the tent. "It ain't her." He stated.
"What's in there?" Andrea asked.
"What do you think?" Anna responded, biting her tongue as the words came out. Andrea said nothing to her, waiting for confirmation from Daryl.
"Some guy." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "Did what Jenner said, opted out. Ain't that what he called it?" Anna flinched away from the heavy, fleeting glance Daryl gave her as he spoke.
The air was tense as the group went silent for different reasons. Some for the obvious jab at the decision Anna and Andrea made back at the CDC, and most for the lack of Sophia.
Then came the church bells.
.
.
The chiming of the church bells spurred her legs forward, past the aching in her chest and muscles It has to be her. She needed it to be her, they all did, and she repeated it over and over in her head as she ran. After losing so many people they cared about, after the CDC and learning that this nightmare was never going to end, Sophia had become something of a symbol of hope in her absence. Tangible hope that they could touch and hug and kiss when they finally found her. They had to find her.
Anna felt a sudden jolt in her foot as it caught on the low rocks that encircled the small cemetery. She rolled a few times until she landed her back, out of breath and staring at the blinding sun beating down on her from above with waves of heat.
Her chest heaved as she tried desperately to get air into her lungs, and she willed her sprawled limbs to move. She lay still, against her wishes, amongst the graves. Fucking move, god damn it, she thought. Her arms and legs twitched but remained nestled in the overgrowing grass.
"You alright?" Anna squinted as a shadow cast over her. Daryl stared back at her, holding his hand out to help her up.
"I don't think I can move." She huffed.
Anna could see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards before he frowned at her again.
"You need to work on your endurance."
"You offering?" The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Daryl's jaw clenched before he unceremoniously yanked Anna up by her arms, throwing one over his shoulder. His left arm looped around her waist – his right occupied with his crossbow – and supported her weight. "You think you can move your legs?"
"Yeah…" she muttered, focusing entirely on pushing one leg forward and then the next. She could feel the heat rising in her face, and if her chest hurt before, it was unbearable now. "Sorry."
Daryl said nothing as he placed her on the steps to the church, leaning her against the railing. She dug through her pocket and pulled out her inhaler. She took one long breath as she squeezed the puffer once.
"She alright?" Lori asked, approaching them with a bottle of water to offer Anna.
"Yeah, I just tripped is all." Anna explained. "I'm not used to all this running – no wonder you're so thin, Lori – all this running." She sighed, accepting the water and taking a long swig. The feeling was quickly rushing back to her limbs, and aside from the tingling in her extremities, she was grateful she'd be able to move on her own. "Is she in there? Why did the bells stop?"
"Automated." Glenn explained, appearing at her left by the door. "Sophia—she wasn't here."
.
Anna bowed her head, her hands folded between her knees. She bounced her right knee unconsciously in the third to last row on the left side of Jesus. So far, the search for Sophia had been fruitless, and the morale of the group was plummeting.
She had originally entered the church with the intent to pray – something she didn't have much experience with in the first place – but, she found herself stuck on thoughts that had been lingering in her mind like some dark shadow. What if Sophia is gone? She didn't want to say it aloud, as if to do so would make it true. Such a small, terrified little girl with no way to defend herself had no chance on her own. Why didn't I grab her? She thought. Why didn't I go after her?
"Stop blaming yourself." Anna jumped in her seat as Anderson slid into the pew beside her.
She sighed heavily. "My mom and dad used to go to church every Sunday." Anna muttered, squeezing her hands together. "They always wanted me to go, but I never felt the need to." She shook her head. "I mean, I don't have anything against worship and that kind of stuff… I just… I don't – I was hoping for something here."
"I think everyone was hoping for something here." Anderson responded, nodding his head towards Carol, who was now leaning into Lori in the front row.
Anna felt tears well up in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. She didn't feel it was her place to weep. "What about you?"
"What about me?" he asked, "Of course I want us to find Sophia."
"So, we can get off the highway?"
Anderson sighed heavily. "Evan's daughter wasn't much younger than Sophia when she died."
Anna's eyes widened, and she turned to gape at the man to her left. "She died?"
Anderson nodded. "She was buried in South Carolina where she was born. Near Myrtle Beach."
Anna huffed. "Evan never told me."
"He never liked to refer to her as being dead. That was why he and his wife divorced. He couldn't let her let go." Anderson explained. He wiped the sweat off his brow and stretched, allowing his back to pop several times before relaxing again.
Anna watched him carefully, remembering each time Anderson had stiffened at the mere mention of the girl. "How did she die?"
He didn't seem to outwardly react to her question, but his eyes darkened ever so slightly. "Hit by a drunk driver." He stated simply. Anderson adjusted his position so that he was looking at Anna straight on but could also see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation. "I know you blame yourself for Sophia, and for Evan, and even for the men at in the city. But, they weren't your fault."
Anna grimaced, disbelief filling her – of course it's my fault, she thought.
"You don't know how I feel, Anderson." She whispered, unable to meet his steady gaze.
"I blame myself for Kaylie every day."
"Why? Were you the drunk driver?" Anna asked. Her heart pounded louder and louder in her ears as his silence dragged on and on. "Anderson?"
