Chapter 6

The walk to the highway was slow and uneventful. Daryl had kept to the back, keeping an eye out all around for any walkers or other potential threats. Carol walked along behind the girls, and baby Judith slept snuggled in a sling Daryl had made. He'd offered to carry her, but Carol had insisted. So, Daryl had carefully placed the sling over Carol's good shoulder, draping it across her body. He'd put Judith in it, and she'd fallen asleep cradled against Carol's chest. It wasn't the most practical device for a baby Judith's age, but it was better than nothing, and she'd slept through their walk through the woods.

It had taken them a while to reach the car, and by the time they piled inside the old station wagon, Lizzie and Mika stretched out in the back seat and fell fast asleep. The bench seat in front gave plenty of room for Carol to lay Judith between her and Daryl.

They sat there for a few minutes catching their breaths, before Daryl turned the key in the ignition and it fired right up.

"Where do we go?" Carol asked quietly, buckling her seat belt, looking in the rearview mirror. A couple walkers were about a half of a mile back, so it didn't concern her. What was unsettling was not knowing where to go. It suddenly felt like the winter before the prison all over again.

"Look for shelter," Daryl said quietly. "Some place secure, maybe with fences."

"So a farm? Or…some big fancy house with tall, iron gates?"

"Somethin'," Daryl murmured. "Can't stay out on the road. Not with three little girls, 'specially with you hurt." Carol stared off out the window.

"We're not far," Carol considered. She glanced at Daryl. "From the prison? We're not far. We should circle back and see if there are any survivors."

"You crazy?" Daryl asked, knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel. "Fences are down, and the place has gotta be crawlin' with geeks. Anybody still there is either dead, turned or trapped in the prison, and we ain't gonna be able to get to 'em. We ain't findin' nobody back in that prison. It's a graveyard now."

"You're right," Carol said quietly. "I just thought…for Judith's sake. Carl and Rick may still be out there."

"If they're out there, I reckon we'll come across 'em sometime. Can't go back. Gotta keep movin'." Carol nodded.

"You're right. I wasn't thinkin'."

"You were," Daryl said quietly. "You were thinkin' 'bout her." He nodded toward the baby. "If Rick's out there…he could be anywhere. We gotta find walls first." He put the car into drive and headed off down the highway.

"I have to go," Mika whined, as Daryl pulled the car up outside of an old drug store.

"Would you stop?" Lizzie huffed. "You've been whining for an hour."

"I can't help it," Mika groaned.

"Well, don't be such a baby."

"Would you both stop?" Daryl snapped from the front seat. "There'll be a place to go in there."

"I'll take her," Carol offered, passing Judith off to Daryl.

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," Carol replied. She grabbed her gun, turning the safety off and getting out of the car. "Come on, Mika." She turned back to Daryl. "Give us five minutes, alright?" He nodded, keeping an eye on Carol as she and Mika hurried up to the door.

"She's such a baby sometimes," Lizzie complained, folding her arms across her chest in the back seat.

"She's just a kid," Daryl reminded her. "Matter'a fact, so are you, so I don't know what you're gripin' about." He glanced at Lizzie in the rear-view mirror.

"She's scared all the time."

"World's a scary place. You ain't scared?"

"No," Lizzie replied with a shake of her head. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Sure you are."

"I'm not."

"Everybody's afraid of somethin'," Daryl said quietly. "Me? I was afraid of the neighbor's dog. Sumbitch seemed like he stood eight feet tall when he hopped up, puttin' his paws on the fence. 'Course, I was four, and everything and everybody seemed so much bigger'n me."

"So did you get over it? Being afraid?" Daryl shrugged one shoulder.

"Dog got loose one night when I was playin' out in the yard. Thought he was gonna kill me, thought I was dead. But he come up and licked me right on the face."

"So you didn't have anything to be afraid of?"

"Didn't say that," Daryl said quietly, picking at his cuticles, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Your dad? He was a good guy. Didn't know him real well, but I talked to him a couple times. He was nice. My old man wasn't. One day, he left the back door open, and he was smackin' me around. That dog came runnin' into that house, bit my dad right on the arm."

"He protected you," Lizzie said quietly.

"Sure did. Got himself shot in the process. My old man shot him right in front of me." He glanced in the mirror, and Lizzie looked away. "I spent all that time bein' scared of that big old dog, when my old man could hurt me a hundred times worse than that dog every could." He bounced Judith a little on his knee. "First thing I was afraid of was that dog. Second thing I was afraid of? My old man. Spent so much time bein' afraid of somethin' that was only gonna protect me from what I really shoulda been afraid of."

"What should I be afraid of?" Lizzie asked quietly. "People do bad things. Really bad things. I've heard stories about that Governor guy. If I'd been there, I'd have shot him right between the eyes." Daryl watched the way Lizzie spoke so nonchalantly about it all. "I'd have shot him before he had the chance to hurt anybody else."

"You woulda?"

"I'm a good shot," Lizzie said quietly.

"And walkers," Daryl said quietly. "More walkers than people now."

"I'm not afraid of walkers."

"I know you ain't," Daryl said quietly. "But you should be, 'cause all them stories you heard 'bout monsters under your bed when you was Mika's age? Those are the monsters."

"That's stupid," Lizzie replied. "They're just sick. They're people."

"They're dead people, and you know what? Even if somebody found a cure, they'd still be dead people, only they wouldn't be up and walkin' around. Only good walker's a dead one. He saw a flash in the girl's eyes, a real flash of something that he couldn't put his finger on, but before he had a chance to ask her about it, Carol and Mika came walking out of the store.

Mika slid into the back seat and passed something in a shiny wrapper to Lizzie.

"Here. Got one for you," Mika said with a smile. "It's your favorite." Lizzie looked down at the wrapped candy bar in her hand and then back at her sister.

"Hey, thanks," she said with a smile. Mika smiled back, and Daryl kept his eyes trained on the older girl's face, watching the way she forced that smile, the way she pretended to be a kid happy with a gift from her little sister. She took a bite, pretending to savor the sweet taste of slightly stale chocolate. She looked like an innocent child, like someone too young for all the burdens this new world put upon her shoulders. But her eyes told another story. Something dark, and Daryl understood now why Carol was worried. He was worried too.

"Look what I found," Carol said, pulling open her pack and revealing five cans of formula. "And they aren't past their date yet." She reached for Judith, pulling the baby into her lap. "At least one of us will have a full tummy tonight, huh, Judith?"

"Anything else in there?"

"Some chocolate bars. Some chips. Guess we have sweet and salty, at least." She gave him a shrug and leaned back against the seat. Daryl started the car but went nowhere. Carol turned her head, gazing at him, watching as he looked uncertainly at the road ahead of them. "Where now?"

"Anywhere but here." He nodded toward the alley next to the store, where a few walkers were starting to stumble out, eyes fixed on the car, pale, dead eyes rolling back in their heads as they shuffled toward the car.

He hit the gas, and they sped off out of the small town, directionless but moving. All they had to do was keep moving.

...

The car sputtered and stalled in front of a row of nice houses, each fenced in, sidewalks peppered with two years of leaves and debris from dozens of storms. The sun was setting, and it would be foolish to go out looking for gas in the dark.

"Looks like this is our stop for the night," Daryl murmured, turning off the car lights and sticking the keys in his shirt pocket. "Which one'll it be?"

"I like that one," Mika murmured softly, pointing to a small white house with black shutters and a porch swing swaying gently in the breeze. However, the window in which it was perched in front of was shattered, no doubt broken by the swing banging into it in a bad storm.

"Look at the window, Mika," Carol pointed out. "It's not safe."

"Well, we could board it up," she insisted.

"We ain't stayin' long enough to waste the energy on it."

"How about that one?" Lizzie asked, pointing to a slightly larger house, brick with a full length porch and knocked over patio furniture.

"See that fence? Probably got a yard fulla walkers," Daryl said with a shake of his head.

"That one," Carol said pointedly, gesturing toward a little tan house with the blue shutters and an upstairs. It looked secure, and judging by the tricycle and toddler toys scattered over the lawn and the kiddie pool in the side yard, it had at least been a kid-friendly home. Maybe there was even an honest to goodness crib that Judith could sleep in.

"That one," Daryl said with a nod. "Alright. Let's check it out."

...

It turned out that Carol had quite a knack for choosing houses. There was a master bedroom with a crib off to one side. As soon as Carol had changed her, she'd put her down in the crib and watched her fall asleep. Lizzie and Mika had chosen the small room down the hall complete with bunk beds and toys. Carol checked in on them. Lizzie was lying on the top bunk with her arms folded under her arms, and Mika was reading by flashlight. She'd tucked them in and moved to the living room, where Daryl was cleaning his arrows and examining them for wear and tear.

"They're all settled in," she said with a soft sigh, slumping down on the couch next to him. Daryl put his arrows down and leaned back against the couch, drawing his arm instinctively along the back of the couch behind her head. She smiled a little, leaning into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Think you're right," he murmured.

"About what?"

"Lizzie. She's confused."

"Yes. She is." Carol sighed softly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "What should we do?"

"Don't know, but I wanna keep an eye on her." He turned to look at Carol's face, seeing the pain and exhaustion etched there.

"I promised their father I'd look after them like they were my own. And I don't know how to do that. I don't want…they aren't mine. I can't convince myself of that. I can't pretend that everything's going to be ok. I can't baby them. Kids don't get the luxury of being innocent anymore. Not in this world. But Lizzie…she's…and Mika's so young, so sweet. She reminds me of Sophia. So scared and uncertain and anxious."

"We'll look out," he murmured, sighing and leaning into the couch. "We'll watch 'em close, keep 'em prepared. Lizzie'll learn. She'll figure it out."

"You think so?" Carol yawned, and Daryl moved his arm, moving it behind her back, wrapping around her waist as she leaned against him. He didn't answer. Instead, he did something she didn't expect. He turned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She turned her face toward his, looking questioningly in his eyes, a tired, sad smile curling at her lips. He leaned in then, pressing his lips softly against hers.

"We should sleep," he said quietly. "You can have the master…stay with Judith, if ya want."

"You're staying with me, aren't you?" she asked, getting a blush out of him.

"If ya want me to."

"I do," she said with a nod. "C'mon, Pookie. Let's go to bed." She stood then, reaching her hand out for his. He took it, joining her, following her back to the master bedroom. They chose their sides of the bed, crawled in, boots and all, and she rolled onto her good shoulder, smiling as he reached out and curled his fingers with hers.

"G'night," he murmured, eyes closing slowly.

"Night," she whispered, leaning in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She closed her eyes and slowly let sleep pull her under, taking her to a time and a place where there were no walkers, where children laughed and played again, and where every day wasn't a constant battle for survival. And in that dream, he waited for her, standing there with his hand stretched out, waiting for her to slip her hand in his. And she took his hand and held it, feeling his grip tighten on her, and all she wanted was for him to hold on and never let go.