When I exited the room, Rick and his wife both jumped up and ran over to me. Hershel was still in the room with Carl ventilating, but for the most part, the kid was out of the woods.

I said, "There was a lot more bleeding than I initially anticipated. I had to resect part of his bowl. He's going to need to take it easy for a while, but he'll make a full recovery. The anesthesia hasn't worn off yet but it shouldn't be long."

Lori grabbed me before I could stop her and pulled me into a hug. I shoved out of her arms, bewildered. I knew my eyes were wide, and there was no stopping the sound of disgust that left me. Lori seemingly ignored my response, gushing, "I don't know who you are, but I owe you more than words can explain. Thank you for saving him."

I didn't say anything as Lori passed me by and walked into the room with Carl and Hershel. Rick stepped forward and reached out as though he was going to pat me on the shoulder but then stopped. He must've noticed my expression and I appreciated that. "Thank you." I moved to say something but before I could another voice barked in the room.

"Is this her?" I glanced over towards the sound of the voice, and then I was shoved against a wall. "I risked my life to save that boy and you just – you just."

His arm was in my throat. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hershel step into the room but Rick pulled the unknown man back before another word could be barked. I stared at the guy, unfazed, and heaving heavy breaths as I said, "Saved him? Cause that's what I did. I saved his life."

"Someone died going to get that thing. And you didn't even need it."

Rick stepped between us, saying, "Shane, just calm down, okay?"

One of my eyebrows lifted. "Try having some fucking respect for the person who just saved that boy's life," I snarled before I walked off.

Claire was in the living room, sprawled on this tiny, brown couch in front of a window. Distantly, I could hear Hershel telling Rick that he wouldn't have any violence on his farm. I could see Maggie standing on the porch through the window. I looked down at Claire, still sound asleep, and walked outside.

Maggie looked over at me. It was dark outside and I still couldn't make out the two figures sitting on the bench behind Maggie. "Did he make it?" she asked.

I nodded, straining to see the two figures sitting on the porch swings. "He's in good condition, all things considered. I gave Hershel some information on post-surgery complications, though I don't anticipate any."

"So you're just going to leave then?" I didn't say anything. I didn't owe it to Maggie, or anyone here, to stay. I'd done my part by helping the boy, more than my part, really. "Well then, before you go, there's someone else…can you take a look at him?"

Maggie turned and nodded to the two men sitting and one stood up, before helping the other to his feet. The two stepped into the porch light and I was taken back by how familiar the younger boy looked. He nodded and gave me a small grin. "I'm Glenn, this is T-Dog. He cut himself on his forearm. We uh think it's infected."

I turned my head and looked at him levelly. "I remember you from somewhere…"

Glenn squinted and then raked a hand through his floppy hair. "I uh think I delivered pizza to you once. Right before everything."

I snapped my finger, crying, "Yeah, yeah, I remember." Even in a zombie apocalypse, it was still a small world. "I'll look at his arm, but I need better light." They nodded and everyone moved into the living room where I could look at T-Dog's forearm. After I cleaned out the wound, and stitched it up, I bandaged it while giving instructions to prevent infection.

"You ought to stay the night," Maggie said as I packed up my things into my bag. "It's late and Claire's already asleep."

I stood up, wiping my palms on the front of my cut-offs. I glanced over at Claire and then at my watch. "She'll be alright – and I don't want to intrude. It seems you guys have a full house as it is." I walked over to Claire before Maggie could respond and was about to wake her when I was stopped.

"Wait – you're leaving?" I looked over at the boy's mother, Lori. She had asked the question. As I looked around I realized it had filled considerably. Hershel was there, looking distraught and upset. Rick and the man who'd had me up against a wall earlier were in the room, too. Glenn was standing next to T-Dog. "You can't leave what if something happens to my son?" she cried when I didn't respond.

I looked at her, my face pulled in anguish, and I felt a tinge of what I'd feel if this were a hospital and the child a patient I'd just performed surgery on. Something must've read on my face because Hershel said, "If anything happens I could take care of it."

"No offense," Lori said. "But I feel far more comfortable with a surgeon taking care of my son than a veterinarian."

Rick glanced at Lori and quickly said, "We appreciate it Hershel. We appreciate all that you've done for us, and you too, Clarke. We don't want to ask for too much or make you stay when you have somewhere to be."

"But do you?" Maggie interjected. "Have somewhere to be? Are ya headed somewhere? Do you really wanna' be driving off at this time of night?"

I glanced at Claire, sound asleep on the couch and said, "Alright. I'll stay the night. In the morning I'll do my final assessment on Carl but then we're gone."

Lori smiled. "Oh thank you. Thank you so much." She took off back into the room where Carl was sleeping.

Hershel said, "I understand that ya'll will be staying on the farm while Carl recovers but I don't have enough bedrooms to accommodate."

"That's fine, Hershel. We've got tents. We can set up right outside. We're real thankful for your hospitality," Rick responded. I heard a noise come from the other man. He was standing off to the side, his arms crossed with an angry expression. He was missing hair, too, I noticed now. He must have literally just shaved his head bald. "Glenn, did you pack the car up?"

Glenn nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah I can go and set them up now."

Maggie said, "What about Clarke?" My head quirked, looking up at Maggie, trying to send my aggravation through my eyes. Maggie was too concerned about what I was doing, and I didn't understand why. I didn't want to understand; I just wanted it to stop.

Hershel responded, "She can take the guest bedroom. Maggie, why don't you take Clarke there."

After carrying Claire upstairs, I resigned myself to get some sleep since I would be traveling most of the day tomorrow. Except, as I lay there I thought about everything that had happened. How it seemed my whole life had changed within a day.

I used to be a doctor, working at a prestigious hospital but now I was nothing, nothing but a vessel trying to remain alive at a time where it was fairly impossible. I had to stay alive to give Claire a fighting chance, a chance to make something of her life.

When the sun peaked through the windows of the small bedroom, I decided to get up and start my day. My clothes felt grungy and stiff since I'd been laying in them all night. I stepped out into the hallway and ran right into someone. Hershel's other daughter, Beth. "Mornin'," she said with a small smile. "Are ya' headed out?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Not yet. Gonna' get a change of clothes for me and Claire. Try to get cleaned up."

"Oh, well the bathrooms right there." She pointed. "Feel free to use it. We've got running water. Its not real hot but it does the job."

I nodded my head as I started down the stairs, responding, "Yeah, thanks."

"Y'know," Beth continued as she followed closely behind me. "It was real nice what you did for Rick and Lori. Maggie said you and Claire were just leaving when she caught ya'."

Clarke stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and asked, "Isn't it early for you to be awake?"

Beth answered, "Oh, I've got chores to do. It's better to get them done before the heat kicks in."

"Right." I turned on my heel and waltzed out the front door. I had my car keys in my back pocket, and I went around to the backseat, unlocking the door and pulling out the first duffle bag there. I had set the car up systematically, putting the most used items in the closer reach while the excess of our supplies were in the bed of the truck. I shucked the bag onto my shoulder and returned to the house to take a shower.

Beth was right; the shower wasn't extremely hot and definitely did not compare to the high-end steam shower I had back home, but it did its job. We had been keeping clean mostly by running rivers. We usually set out in the early morning every few days to bathe. This was a nice alternative, and a much safer one.

After my shower, I threw on a pair of shorts and a loose, short sleeveless gray top. It was already blistering hot outside and I knew the weather wasn't even at its peak yet. I returned to the room to wake up Claire, nudging her with my foot. "Hey, kid, time to get up," I said as Claire blinked up at me. "I know you aren't that tired."

Claire sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Did Carl make it?" she asked not responding to my comment.

"Who?" I asked, instinctively before I could think. Claire made a face. "The boy. Right. He's fine." I gave the bed another shake. "Come on, get up. There's a shower waiting for you."

Her eyes went wide. "No way, no way. They have a shower? With water?"

I shook my head. "Nah, it only sprays lemon juice. All the same though."

Claire rolled her eyes. "You have 0% sense of humor in your genes."

I nodded my head in agreement. "And 0% patience, so let's go, miss. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Claire was climbing out of bed but stopped at my words. "Are we gonna' leave?"

"We can't stay."

"Why not?" she asked crossing the room to grab the clothes I'd taken out of the bag and set out for her. I handed her a bag that had our shampoo, body wash, toothpaste and her toothbrush in it. "Are you gonna' tell me why we can't stay?"

"Because Claire. This is a family here; we're not going to intrude. And there's no reason to when we do fine on our own. Now go shower, and when you're done bring your stuff to the truck."

Claire shot me a glare before walking out of the room. I grabbed the duffle bag and medical bag off the floor and followed her out to make sure she made it to the bathroom before heading back downstairs.

I was standing in the bed when I heard someone call my name. I had rearranged some our bags and did a quick inventory of our medical supplies, water, and food. We were in surplus of everything having pilfered from every town they went through. "Clarke," Maggie said as she came up along the side of the truck. "How'd ya' sleep?"

"Alright," I responded as I rummaged through one of my bags looking for the portable ultrasound I'd gotten at Southfork Gen. It was a small machine, running on heavy duty batteries. It was light enough to carry and gave a pretty clear picture. I picked up my stethoscope and slung it around her neck.

"I was wondering," Maggie was saying as I jumped down from the bed, pushed the tailgate up and pulled the top down over it, locking it with my key, "would you mind stayin' for Otis's funeral? I know ya' din't really know 'em but it would sure mean a lot to Patricia."

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her, shocked. "When – what happened?"

"Oh," Maggie said taking a step back. "I was sure you'd heard—he went to get a ventilator with Shane, Rick's friend, and he didn't make it." The guy who'd thrown her up against a wall – it made sense now.

I knew that she had been pretty cold towards Maggie, towards everyone actually but I wasn't completely heartless. "Maggie, I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say—."

She jumped in, "Well, say you'll stay for the funeral."

I nodded my head. "Yeah, of course. Claire and I can stick around for it."

"It means a lot, Clarke," she said with a small smile before she turned around and made her way back into the house.

I followed after her a few minutes later, stopping in front of the room Carl was recovering in. I knocked lightly before cracking the door open. Lori was asleep in a chair next to Carl's bed, and Rick was crouched on the floor by his side. He looked up at me, letting go of his son's hand as he stood and walked over.

"He woke up last night," Rick said. "He was talking for a little bit."

"Yeah, he'll be in and out for a couple of days. I gave him some pretty heavy pain meds. Hershel will want to wean him off them. I just want to do a quick assessment."

Rick nodded and stepped aside, "Yeah, go right ahead."

I walked over to Carl, setting the ultrasound machine on the bed, before I pulled the covers back on him revealing his abdomen. His stitches were covered in a bandage; it didn't look like the wound had bled at all. He was sleeping and I didn't need to wake him so silently I turned the machine on, and squirted some gel on his stomach before running the probe along his abdomen.

I said to Rick, "I'm just checking for any residual bleeding." I pointed to the screen. "This is his stomach—his intestines. You can kind of see where I had to stitch it. I don't see any fluid, which is good. It means I got everything yesterday." I turned the machine off, and returned the sheet over Carl. "As long as the wound stays clean, and he takes it easy while the stitches are still in he'll be fine. He's young, his body will bounce back faster."

"Y'know," Rick responded quietly. "We've had a bad run of it lately. Even this. One moment Carl's lookin' at this deer and the next he's been shot. But then there's you."

I responded, eyebrows furrowed, "Me?"

"What were the odds there'd be a big time surgeon around?"

"Well," I said softly walking towards the door. "Perhaps your luck is turning around."

He said with a kind smile, "Maybe." He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Are ya' headed out now?"

Turning to Rick, I leaned against the doorframe. "No, actually. I told Maggie I'd attend Otis's service."

He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "If ya' don't mind me askin', where are ya' headed anyway?"

I looked up in thought. "No where particular," I told him honestly. "I've just been going, y'know? I guess its stupid but I feel like the more we move the more distance we put between the dead and us. Doesn't really make sense since the more we move the more we run into them. I'm hoping that once I find the place I'll know that it's where we should stay."

He looked at me, attentive. "It's just you and Claire?" I nodded. "But you guys aren't from around here, right?"

"No, we're from Baltimore. But I used to live outside Atlanta with my dad. I was visiting the place right before everything happened."

"You two have done well on your own," Rick commented.

"Yeah, you know, we've been lucky. We haven't had much trouble. Not like we could." As I was speaking, I noticed Lori stirring. Lori sat up, suddenly, and looked at us with wide eyes.

"Is everything okay?" she asked her voice masked in sleep and distress.

I nodded my head. "I looked at Carl. He has no post-op bleeding. He's going to recover fine. I told Rick to keep him off his feet while the stitches heal and to keep the wound clean to stave off infection."

She nodded vigorously. "Okay, okay, yeah, absolutely. Clarke, I really can't thank you enough."

I gave her a close-mouthed smile. "You don't have to." I glanced between Rick and Lori. "I'll see you guys at the funeral." Pulling the door open, I stepped out quickly, smacking into someone hard. I hit the person's chest, bouncing off of him. I realized it was a him by the strength and force of their body. The sound of whatever the man was carrying hitting the floor cracked loudly in the foyer, and then I was wrought with searing pain.

"Jesus," someone snapped voice heavy with a southern twang. I bit back the cry that quaked in my throat, feeling for the pain in my thigh. My ears rang loudly, drowning out the voices. My vision doubled as I raised my hand in front of my face and saw the blood. And then I fainted.