"Those damn bastards leaving me to die then they can't deal with themselves and so they got to come back and save me. Too late, I can save my own sorry ass." Deep down Merle knew he was happy they came back looking for him but it was not in his nature to forgive. When he saw Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and his brother making their way down the street silently taking out all the walkers in their path, he made the decision he would run for it once they discovered he wasn't where they left him. He didn't think they would search the building for him but just in case, he decided to hide. He made his way over to the room across the hall from the restaurant. It was an office of some sort. Merle immediately heard some faint scuffling and knew he wasn't alone. He looked around and spotted two walkers behind a bunch of very large filing cabinets.

Merle quietly pulled his wrench out and tiptoed over to the walkers, set his knapsack down, and skillfully bashed the brains of both walkers single-handedly, literally. He heard more footsteps approaching the office door closest to him, but they were quicker than walker footsteps. He knew it was the guys. He quickly picked up his knapsack and dove into a utility closet as his brother Daryl opened the door. Merle left the closet door cracked enough so that he could see and hear them.

"Didn't have trouble taking out these two sons-of-bitches," Daryl said as he came upon the two walkers Merle just killed.

"One-handed, toughest ass-hole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer and crap out the nails."

Daryl reloaded his crossbow. Merle wanted to open the closet door so badly and tell his brother he was fine, but a pang of anger hit him. Why did is brother still trust these guys after they left him to die? If someone had left Daryl to die, there ain't no way in hell those people would live to see another day if Merle had a choice.

Merle flashed back to the last memory he had of his dad with a duffel bag in each arm and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, walking out the front door, as his mother sobbed in the kitchen. He felt the same pain he felt then as he looked at his little brother, abandonment. Merle had been like a father to his baby brother. He would have died for Daryl, and now here Daryl was parading around Atlanta with the same people that left him to die. Some brother. Merle decided not to open the door, but he made sure to take one last hard look at his kin.

"Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is," Rick chimed in as the four mean headed out towards the kitchen.

As soon as they left the office, Merle ran the opposite direction towards the eastern fire escape. He knew the guys must have come in the building through the front entrance. They had an advantage though, eight hands to take out walkers. He only had one. When he got to the fire escape, he waited. He knew where they were going next and he knew that would be his chance to make a run for it.

He waited about ten minutes before he saw Glenn making his way towards the place where Rick had first gotten swarmed by walkers. He was right; they were trying to get the bag of guns Rick had dropped when he first came into the city. "Pricks, they only came back here for the guns and decided just to check if I was here still. Damn bastards," he said to himself as he made his way down the ladder. It worried him that they only sent Glenn to get the guns. It wasn't a big enough distraction. Suddenly, he got a lucky break.

"Ayudame! Ayudame!" An unfamiliar voice screamed as all the walkers took off towards the western fire escape.

Merle had his chance and he ran for it. The screaming continued from the western escape. Merle looked back and saw Rick and T-Dog sprinting toward the shouts at the same time a low-riding car sped up, pulled Daryl off a young Mexican kid, and sped away. This was the first time in a couple of weeks he had seen other survivors, well except for Rick. There were people still out there, safe somewhere. He knew it.

Merle had hoped for a distraction but he had never expected it would go this well. There was hardly a walker in his path as he sprinted towards the freeway. He must have run about a mile before he saw the truck the group had used to escape the day before parked by the railroad. He knew they had driven it here and then walked into the city. Merle hopped in and wasn't surprised to find the keys were still in the ignition. Most people weren't worried about auto theft nowadays. He started the truck and revved the engine.

"Fuck you Atlanta," he shouted as he gunned the gas, "Next time, why don't you try some southern hospitality!"

Merle made himself laugh sometimes.