I didn't get any sleep that night. No one did. No one could. We were too busy mourning and burying the dead. For the rest of the night, I sat on the cliffside giving me the view over Atlanta. I could see the sun rising slowly. A new day. Walker whimpered once by my side. I looked behind to see Walker once again tied to the back of Daryl's shit pick up truck. Since Walker had bitten the other walkers, we weren't sure if he would turn into one. He was a dog and nobody really knew if the infection could infect other species. So, we tied him up and decided to wait a few days to see if he would turn. It was extremely hard to do so. Even Rick and Daryl thought about shooting the dog. But, I convinced them otherwise. I was frantically crying and didn't want anyone else to die. Including the dog.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl p. His tight muscles flexing every time he did. Glenn and T-Dog were helping drag the bodies to two separate piles. The dead and undead. I would be joining either one of those piles. I quickly took a peek at the wound. It was still stinging from last night. Felt like needles had been shoved into my neck and shoulder. It was slowly spreading, I could feel it. Maybe it was better this way. We would all eventually die to the infection. It was only a matter of time, why deny it now?

"Okay, kid, enough sitting on your ass doing nothing." Daryl's rough voice said from behind me, he grabbed me on the shoulder, right where I had gotten bit. He slowly withdrew his hand that was now covered with my blood. Both of our eyes instantly locked. "Did you get bit?" he demanded.

"No." I croaked.

"Lemme see."

"I said no!" I then shouted, getting up. Agitated, Daryl tossed aside the axe and grabbed me. I tried fighting him, but he was too strong for me. Daryl pulled down the side of my shirt, fully exposing the wound. I was bitten. Daryl grabbed me by the arm and dragged me through the dirt towards the group. I struggled trying to get up, but I was helpless. "Anza got bitten!" he shouted, announcing it to the whole world. Daryl then tossed me onto the ground. I slammed into the dirt with rocks embedding themselves on my hands and scrapped knees. The entire group rushed to where we were standing. I slowly rose to my feet. Now, they were giving me different looks. Jacqui looked at me as if I was a disease. The same looks that Daryl was now giving me. Glenn appeared, not believing it. "Liar, show me."

Daryl pulled down the side of my shirt. You could clearly the bite mark on the base of my neck and shoulder, as well as part of my bra. I quickly pulled up my shirt. "Don't do that, you pervert!" I shouted, slapping Daryl across the face. Though it didn't really hurt as much as it could have.

"I ain't looking at ya, ya dumb shit!" he shouted back at me. "I was showin' everyone your bite mark!"

I fought back tears, crossing my arms and looking away. It was over now. I wanted to die. Rick sighed heavily, walking me over to behind the trailer. Walker looked up at me and whimpered. Now he was giving me those looks that the others were. Rick put a bucket on the ground for me to sit on. "Wait here, we need to talk with the others." Rick said, wearing his sheriff uniform. Throughout the entire conversation, which was debating over whether or not they should kill me, I noticed Daryl glancing over to me every now and then. Whenever our eyes met, I looked away. I was wrong about Daryl. He only saw the worst in everything. He didn't want to try and work things through. His answer to everything was a gun to the head. Sky walked over to me. I could see intense sorrow in her eyes. She stared at the gouged wound on my neck. For the first time since her mother's death, I saw tears forming. I grabbed her hand. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, Sky." I cooed. "You'll still have these people, okay? Don't cry."

My words didn't stop her. She wrapped her arms around me and cried. Her eyes red and sore from the tears. Before I knew it, Daryl had charged for me with a bloody pick axe. Me and Sky toppled over. I held my arms in an attempt to shield myself. Daryl raised the pick over his head, ready to swing it for the final blow. Sky grabbed my hunting knife. She poked the knife at Daryl's abdomen. The others quickly caught up. Sky shot Daryl a glare, who snickered. "You think you can kill me, little girl?"

Sky narrowed her eyes.

"Answer me, or are you retarded?" Daryl hissed.

Rick stepped in front of Daryl with a gun pointed at his head. "That's enough, Daryl," he snapped.

Daryl chuckled once, glaring at me. "You can think your little girl for saving you, but even she can't save you from that infection."

I felt as if a hole had been punched through my chest. He dare make fun of the fact that I was now infected? I could retaliate in a way that would only rustle Daryl's jimmies. "How does it feel getting your butt kicked by a sixty pound girl? Twice?" I immediately barked back.

Daryl tried charging at me, but Shane and Glenn restrained him. He shoved the two men away. Daryl stalked off in a fury. When he was gone, Sky dawdled towards me. She handed me back the knife. I shook my head. "You keep it, you've earned it, kiddo." I insisted.

I then unbuckled the strap, giving her the sheath. Sky examined it. The brown leather sheath had Mexican embroideries on it. "That knife has been in my family since the Battle of the Alamo, it has seen many battles, and it will continue to see more battles. It will live through this one too." I continued. "You will need it's strength."

Sky held the knife close to her like a precious treasure. She leaned her head against my shoulder, my good shoulder. Walker whined loudly. I was at least hoping that Walker wouldn't get infected.

The cars were packed and ready to go by noon. The sun was now bearing down on our backs. This was around the time that I began to feel the effects of the bite. At first, only just the pain of having my neck and shoulder bitten into. Now the throbbing and needle-stabbing pain was spreading. Right now, the sharp pain was blossoming across my back and arms like a flower. I also began to feel hot. The heat outside wasn't helping any.

I sat in the back of the camper in a plastic chair beside the bed. I managed to make the chair fit between the wall of the RV and the bed, the aisle. I watched outside intently. The others were debating over my life again, as well as Walker's. I'm glad that they didn't shoot Walker at least. Though I should've been grateful that they didn't shoot me. Daryl wanted me dead whilst Dale and Rick defended my life. Daryl disgusted me now.

"Aye," called out a voice.

I looked up to see Pancho standing in the small hallway with Miranda and their two kids. "¿Cómo estás, amigo?" he asked in Spanish.

"Estoy empezando a sentir." I mumbled. "No voy a durar mucho más tiempo, así que decir adiós." (I'm starting to feel it. I won't last much longer, so say your goodbyes.)

"Eso es lo que vinimos aquí. Nos vamos a reunir con otros miembros de la familia. Queríamos comprobar para arriba en usted ... y decir adiós." (That's what we came here for. We're leaving to reunite with other family members. We wanted to check up on you...and say goodbye.)

I nodded once. "Bien, le deseo lo mejor. Sido un placer hablar con usted y su hombre de familia." (Well, I wish you only the best. Been nice talking to you and your family, man)

I then smiled as I lightly joked, "Estoy seguro de que va a tener a nadie se pierda de conversar en español con." (I'm sure gonna miss not having anyone to converse in Spanish with.)

Their two young children laughed at once. Pancho and Eliza smiled sadly. Louis approached me. "Prometo siempre que honrar el día de los muertos, amigo." he proclaimed in his high-pitched voice, heavily laced with an Latin accent. I nodded once. "Gracias."

After the hasty goodbyes, Pancho shook my hand like we were business partners. Miranda leaned over the bed to give me a hug. Though I was a little sweaty from the sickness. Louis and Eliza shook my sweaty hand again. Carol approached me with a cold cup of water. I greedily drank it. "They say goodbye?" she asked, sitting down on the bed.

I exhaled deeply after drinking for a long time. "Yes...and Louis said he would always honor me on the Day of the Dead." I answered. "What difference does it make anyway? Everyday is the Day of the Dead."

"Her fever is getting worse."

"What the hell do we do? We can't just shoot her."

"Sure we can."

"What about that damn mutt?"

"Walker is in the back of Daryl's truck. He's just fine."

"Maybe the mutt really is immune to the disease."

I heard them talking outside once more. I was shivering violently, including my left leg. Every hair on my body was standing up. The bite mark on my neck was on fire. It felt like someone dumped hot grease onto it. There was nothing I could do. Between letting out grunts of pain, I looked out the window. My whole body was drenched in sweat. My stomach was burning worse than a bad case of gas and a menstrual cramp combined. Sophia and Carl stared at me with fear. They hated seeing me in this agony. Sky wiped my forehead with a wet rag. Someone stepped into the RV. It was Rick, he walked towards me. The only thing he could do was watch me be in this much pain. "I've talked with the others and we've decided to ask you, what you want us to do." Rick stated.

I exhaled deeply. "What I want?"

"Yes."

"You aren't going to shoot me?"

"If that's what you want. This is your call."

I sat up in the bed. I thought about it through the burning pain as much as I could. Did I really want to turn into a zombie? Or would it be easier just to blow my brains out with a gun? At least I wouldn't be one of those things. I would die with humanity and the remainder of my already low dignity. But, that didn't really matter to me. Esperanza Cruz would still be gone. She would be dead. All that would remain was a walking shell of my former self. Now, a monster. When you're dead, you're dead. There is no afterlife. I didn't care what happened to my body. The pain though...the burning pain...when would it end? I couldn't handle it anymore.

Then a thought crossed my mind. A thought that made me forget the intense pain I was in. "Yes, I know what I want." I then said as confident as I could.

"What do you want us to do?" Rick asked, eyeing me.

"You said you were going to the CDC, which is near downtown Atlanta, right?"

"Yes? You want us to take you there?"

"No, I'll be fully turned by then," I answered. "I want you to take me to my mother's grave."