Disclaimer: I don't own the Walking Dead. Uggggghhhhhhh, but why not? Why? Okay, this is making me terribly sad. Somebody wipe my tears.

P.S. I know this song isn't super emotional or symbolic or anything, and it actually doesn't cover the chapter really at all, just like, one super tiny part, but I couldn't resist…

You can raise her up a lady

But there's one thing

You just can't avoid

Ladies love country boys

Trace Adkins – Ladies Love Country Boys

"… and that's why, to this day, I'm afraid of apples," Jess finished, her cheeks tinted lightly in an embarrassed blush.

"You- you killed a walker!" Carl pointed out incredulously. He stared at her in amazement, as if trying to decide whether she was joking or not. "But you're scared of apples?"

"I'm being serious," she sniffed. Jess grimaced at the thought of the sweet fruit. "Try biting into an apple and finding a worm in it, then see if you're okay with them." She shivered in disgust. He still eyed her as if he were questioning her sanity. "So maybe "afraid" isn't the right word. I'm just "wary", I guess."

Carl shook his head, his expression still thoroughly stumped. "Whatever," he muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. "Just… whatever."

"Hey, you're the one who asked me what I'm most scared of," she reminded, her finger jabbing into his shoulder, "you should've known what you were getting into."

"I thought you would say walkers or sharks or something!" he cried.

She wiped the sweat off her brow. "Well, too bad. I'm fuck- freaking weird, deal with it." She tugged on the shirt she was wearing. Numerous, unsightly sweat stains covered the fabric. "So what about you? What are you most afraid of?" she asked, eager to shift the attention away from herself.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Walkers... and bats."

Jess nodded her head in understand. "Bats are pretty creepy," she agreed, choosing not to comment on the other answer.

Carl wrinkled his nose. "I'm a little more worried about the "flesh-munching monsters"," he mumbled sarcastically. She pursed her lips in disapproval, noticing his familiar word choice.

"Yeah, well, if you get rid of any apples we find, I'll get rid of any grabbers," she bargained. He grinned. "We have a deal?"

"Deal," he granted readily. She smiled, noticing for the first time in a while that it was actually real.

They had been walking for at least another hour and she was back to questioning Carl's judgment and sense of direction. The sun would be setting soon and she didn't want him out in the forest after dark. More importantly, she didn't want him out here with her after dark.

"So, do you think we're getting- what the hell is this?" After getting over her initial surprise, Jess stared down suspiciously. She kneeled down. After plucking the string and making the cans rattle softly, she found the answer to her question. "You guys set up a barrier?" She was relieved at knowing they had either hit the camp or were about to.

"Yeah, it's supposed to make noise when the walkers trip over it," Carl informed, reciting the information as if he had memorized it. "That way we know one of them is coming."

"Does is work?" she questioned, still eyeing the crude, homemade alarm system. Old soup and bean cans threaded together on a piece of thick twine, stretching so far through the forest she almost couldn't see where the whole thing ended.

"It's supposed to work…" Jess flicked her eyes to Carl. "But we haven't had one near the camp yet," he shrugged.

Jess chewed on her lip. She thought about setting it off and making a run for it, leaving the camp residents to find and bring back Carl. They surely weren't far from his people. The human ear could only receive sound from a certain distance. It would be useless if these people had set this barrier up too far away to hear it.

That fact went both ways though. She couldn't hear anyone from their spot in the woods. If the group had moved on without Carl or been overrun, she couldn't live with herself knowing she had ditched him. The kid would be all alone, and he wouldn't survive long on his own, not with so many grabbers now roaming the forest.

"Okay," Jess sighed. It hadn't even occurred to her that his camp might be deserted or that everyone might be dead. It had only been a couple of hours since Carl ran off, but as far as she could tell, no one was out looking for him. She didn't hear frantic calls in the woods or see footprints from desperate searchers. "Let's get going." She carefully stepped over the cans, making sure Carl did the same. "I don't want them to mistake us for grabbers," she supplied after seeing his puzzled face.

And with the amount of dirt and sweat on the both of them, that could very well happen.

She grasped onto his hand tightly, suddenly nervous and uncertain.

"What's wrong?" Carl whispered anxiously. Jess swallowed, noticing how her fear was affecting him.

"Nothing," she assured.

They crept towards the camp. She walked along calmly while Carl practically bounced with excitement.

She only relaxed when she heard the sounds of human voices.

Jess dropped Carl's hand. They took the next few steps through the trees much more quickly and casually. The trees thinned out into a tent filled clearing, complete with everything needed for a long stay in the woods. A quarry could be spotted a long walk away. They stood beside an RV, just barely out of sight. She was surprised at the size of the camp. Tents and makeshift shelters were scattered all around, far enough apart give everyone their own space. She nearly got lost trying to count all the people milling around.

Carl nudged her before pointing to a beautiful woman with long, dark hair. She sat on a log, sobbing and fraught with worry. Even though tears streamed down her red and puffy face, she still managed to argue vehemently with a tall, dark haired man sitting next to her. "That's my mom," he murmured.

Jess nudged him back, a small smile on her face. She felt immense relief at getting Carl back to his mother. She felt sad at seeing him go. More than that though, she felt hopeless. Helping Carl had given her purpose and taken her mind off her impending death, but now, she had nothing and no one.

"Go," she urged, suddenly holding back tears and sorrow.

He ran off without looking back, barreling toward his mother with a wide grin and a laugh. "Mom!" he yelled.

The woman stood up faster than Jess thought possible. She turned around, her mouth agape and her eyes brimming with more tears.

"Carl?" she cried, her voice high pitched and wobbly. She swayed as Carl practically jumped on her, folding his arms around her thin waist. Jess smiled. The lady was beaming and crying and babbling all at once. None of her words made sense, but they sounded half loving and half scolding.

Jess felt pride in herself. Another feeling she hadn't experienced in quite a while. The kid was making her all soft and girly. She swiped at her own tears and sniffed. "I need to get my shit together," she mumbled with a small laugh.

She blamed her overly sentimental feelings on the infection. It was affecting her hormones.

At that thought, her blissful bubble popped. She remembered exactly what a danger she posed to everyone. To all these people. To Carl. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, noting that no one had noticed her arrival. She backed up slowly, impatient to escape before Carl mentioned her name.

She slowly melted back into the trees before finally turning around.

And running right into a strong, muscled chest.

Jess bit her tongue, holding in a string of curses, as her eyes drifted up to a hardened face.

"Um, hi…" she muttered pathetically. Cold, blue eyes somehow managed to burn her whole body. His thin goatee just barely covered a sharp jaw. His rough, chapped lips formed a tight frown. His light brown hair was short, but growing out in unruly ends. His tanned face was tense with an irritated, slightly angry expression. In the female part of her mind, she fervidly took notice of tanned muscles and a lean body; of the dirt stained, sleeveless shirt that accentuated a body earned through a hard worked, labor filled life.

However, the rational part of her mind immediately catalogued the dangerous looking crossbow slung across his back, the gun at his hip, and his blood stained hands.

Jess just barely restrained a panic attack, the blood drained squirrels hanging from his back providing a sufficient excuse.

"The fuck 're ya?" he growled in a thick accent, leaning over her. She narrowed her eyes.

She had to be the unluckiest person in the whole apocalyptic world. First she got bitten, then she befriended a kid she inevitably had to abandon, and now she was about to be murdered by a serial killing, squirrel hunting, crossbow wielding, redneck out in the woods of Georgia.

She struggled to answer. "Who the fuck are you?" she countered smartly.

She mentally scolded herself for not being better at insults under pressure. She cast her bitter thoughts aside and focused on seeming intimidating. She pulled herself up to her full height, just barely hitting his nose. He licked his lips before setting his jaw. "Yer in m' camp, so ah suggest ya answer rethink tha' response," he warned, his arms flexing threateningly.

If she wasn't a jumbled mixture of fear, turmoil, and anger, she would have definitely paid more attention to his broad, flexing limbs.

As it was, she didn't have time for her lustful thoughts, she was too busy glaring.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she denied forcefully, trying to hide her terror. Jess held in a frightened squeak as he took a menacing step forward, nearly putting them chest to chest. "I wasn't doing anything bad!" she hurried to explain. He smirked slightly and it brought back the anger. "So I'll just be on my way." She moved to push him away, but he caught her wrist before a finger even touched his chest. Her eyes met his. His blue seemed triumphant and she knew her hazel were showing pure rage. "Get your fucking hands off of me," she hissed.

His grip tightened in response. It wasn't that she had a problem with being touched, more that she had a problem being handled. A bad ex-boyfriend had ensured that she would never again be able to tolerate much, if any, physical violence.

It was one of the reasons her con list would always and forever have her ability to fight marked down on it.

Jess had nothing left to lose. She could die right now and it wouldn't matter, because she would be dead, in one way or another, tomorrow anyway. So, despite knowing she couldn't fight, she tensed, preparing to lash out. As if reading her thoughts, his fingers loosened and dropped. He didn't back up, and his blues eyes still watched her intently, waiting for answers or actions.

"Jess!" a familiar voice called. She snapped her gaze from the redneck to anywhere else, searching for an escape. "Hey! Jess! Where'd you go?" She took a step toward the opposite direction the voice came from. She didn't make it a foot before she saw Carl bolting toward her from the brush. He stopped, flitting his eyes from the redneck to her almost suspiciously. "Oh, there you are."

"Hey, Carl," she answered, backing away from the man who still stood to close for comfort. "Who is this?" she asked, gesturing to the masculine male who shifted from one foot to the other, not saying a word.

"That's…" Carl moved toward her, whether for his protection or hers, she didn't know. "Daryl," he finished.

"Oh," she replied softly. As she took in Carl's mistrustful, wary eyes, she remembered.

"There's Merle and Daryl, but my mom doesn't let me talk to them, she says they're not safe."

"Oh," she gasped. Her body, of its own accord, moved to stand directly in front of Carl. Daryl seemed to notice her movement before even she did. "Let's get back to your mom, Carl. And remember what I told you about running off?"

"Sorry," he answered quietly. She reluctantly turned her back on the stranger, pushing Carl toward the direction of camp. Every nerve in her body felt frazzled and frayed, and all she wanted to do was turn around; try and figure Daryl out.

While he had seemed angry and hostile at first, he had backed off once he determined out she didn't pose a threat. He had seen her boundaries and not pushed past them. He hadn't hurt her, merely stopped her from doing anything.

She couldn't decide whether he was truly a danger or not.

But Carl certainly seemed to think so, as did his mother, apparently.

She could feel her curiosity getting the better of her. She mumbled a few colorful profanities under her breath, knowing what she needed to do, if not for her own sake, then Carl's.

Jess would have to get to the bottom of Daryl Dixon.

And she would have to do it before she died.

A/N: Aaaannnd, she met Daryl! Plus, Carl made it back to his mom! What did you think? I'll be honest, though I have a basic plot line and direction for this story, I'm sort of spit balling Jess and basing her off my own personality.

So, tell me if that's working or not.

I give my great thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. Thank you bunches for the support! I have a Merle/OC story up called Captured, check it out if that interests you! I personally love both Dixon brothers equally, so I just had to do two stories.

Thanks for reading!