A/N: I have been waiting and waiting for this chapter. No, they don't find out Glenn's big secret and no, I won't explain the origin of mpreg in his story YET (sorry hopeless1665), but a lot is going to happen... important things! So be prepared. And, as always, remember: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!

Chapter 6

Daryl hated to admit it, but he was starting to panic. It had been two days since Glenn had disappeared and they hadn't found any clues as to where he had gone.

Not long after they had found the clearing full of fallen walkers, Rick, Shane, and Andrea had agreed that they needed to head back to the vehicles. Daryl had protested, enraged that they would even suggest that after the Sofia incident. The other three were quick to point out that Glenn was an adult, not a child. Daryl quickly replied that Glenn had probably been bitten and that they needed to put him down if he was.

Finally, Daryl relented when Rick told him that if Glenn had been bitten Daryl needed to arm and guard the others. They had made it back to the motel in record time, grabbing the last of their forgotten weapons before heading back to the convoy. When they arrived, Carol had practically leapt out of the car and, when she didn't see Glenn with them, broke down into tears again. Lori coaxed her back into the car as Dale and T-Dog approached.

"Well?" Dale asked.

"He went back for the weapons we think. Took Daryl's crossbow and Shane's handgun before running off into the woods. The walkers followed him up to a clearing about three miles in," Rick explained. "When we got there, all of the walkers were dead, about thirty or so, most shot through the head."

"Thirty or more? A shotgun doesn't hold that many rounds," T-Dog replied.

"We think someone else shot them down, but we didn't find anyone around," Daryl added.

"One of the walkers had bit something not long before it died," Andrea jumped in.

Everyone froze, turning to stare at her.

"We don't know if it was Glenn's blood or not," Rick said. "It just had blood on its teeth."

"Fresh blood," Shane snarled.

Daryl snorted, shooting a glare at the other man. Shane returned the glare.

"He's likely a walker now," Shane continued. "We'll need to be ready."

Carl stepped up to Rick, grabbing at the fabric of his dad's sleeve. The child looked from his father, to Shane, to Andrea, and finally, to Daryl. The redneck was the only one to meet his eyes. Carl gulped when he saw the pure, raw anger in Daryl's gaze.

"And whose fault is that?" Carol snapped, lunging angrily at Shane. "Who drew the walkers in, huh?"

"Hey, Glenn was the one who decided to run off towards the guns instead to the cars, alright? It's his fucking fault he's in this mess," Shane snarled.

"Don't you dare-"

"Calm down, everyone," Rick said, jumping between a pissed-off Shane and an enraged Carol. "Glenn may or may not have been bitten. Either way, we need to find out. Tomorrow mornin', we'll go out looking for him."

Daryl nodded in agreement, his mouth set in a firm line of anger and discontent. He was going to be the first one out the next morning.

Sure enough, Daryl, Rick, and T-Dog set out at first light, Daryl in the lead with a rifle across his back and a handgun at his waist. T-Dog and Rick exchanged glances behind the redneck's back, curious as to why Daryl was so heavily invested in finding Glenn, whether he was alive or not.

Daryl ignored them completely, focusing instead on the task at hand. If he found Glenn alive –and he sure as hell hoped he did- he was going to beat the shit out that kid.

'Then you're going to bandage him up, turn him on his stomach, and fuck him into oblivion where all can hear it,' he thought to himself as he jumped cleanly over a fallen tree. 'They'll all know then that only you can fuck with –or just fuck- that kid. Even those motherfucking dumbass walkers will know and they'll realize that they'd better fucking leave him alone or else they'll get an arrow straight through the head.'

Daryl snarled under his breath, his anger driving him onward. When they reached the clearing where the walkers lay decaying, he kicked at one, aiming for the head. The neck snapped cleanly, the head sailing to the other side of the clearing.

"Fucking geeks," he snarled.

"When the hell did you start calling them that?" T-Dog teased. "I thought only Glenn did."

"You spend enough time with people, you pick up on things," Rick replied.

"I haven't spent that much time with the kid," Daryl said.

"You took care of him for what, a week? That's more than enough time," T-Dog smirked, laughing.

Daryl snarled at the man. He may have been ready for claim Glenn as his own in front of the others, but only if it was on his terms. He was a Dixon. He didn't follow anyone else's rules.

"Shut the fuck up. Let's get moving," Daryl snapped, heading off into the trees again.

T-Dog was snickering, but Daryl just went back to ignoring him. They trekked up the incline, Daryl once again in the lead. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he searched for Glenn's tracks.

"Someone else was definitely here. There's a different set of tracks and none of Glenn's," he said slowly, searching wildly for the familiar set of shoeprints.

"Fuck," T-Dog murmured, suddenly sobering up.

Circling back, Daryl searched the perimeter around the clearing. He shook his head, finding nothing. When he made it back to Rick and T-Dog, he shook his head again, a blank expression on his face.

"Nothing. There's nothing other than a few rabbit tracks and those footprints leading north," he said. "There's no blood or anything either. The only way he could have gotten out of here was that someone, the one who shot those walkers, carried him."

"Then who the fuck got bit?" T-Dog asked.

"Maybe the walker ate a rabbit or something before we attracted its attention," Rick suggested.

Daryl doubted it. The blood had been too fresh, still glistening. Most blood at that thin of a layer would have dried by then more likely than not. He shook himself, snapping himself out of his depressed thoughts. Daryl had never been an optimistic guy, but he had to be levelheaded. Whining and worrying about what could be or what could have been wasn't going to get him anywhere now.

"We need to keep moving," he said, stepping past the other two.

The three men headed north, following the new trail that Daryl had found. Whoever it was, this person that had helped Glenn, he was much bigger than the Asian man and much heavier too. His shoeprints, a size 12, were set deep into the muddy ground, leaving behind a clear and obvious trail.

They traveled several more miles in silence, watching for walkers and following the path as it wound up the giant hill. The only time that anyone said anything was when T-Dog asked if they could classify the hill as a mountain, to which Rick replied with a laugh and Daryl, nothing. The incline just kept rising, stretching further and further away from the highway.

About another four or so miles after they found the dead walkers, they heard a twig snap. All three of them froze, lifting up their weapons into a ready position. They looked around wildly, searching for any signs of movement. The tense moments passed, all three of them facing a different direction as a precaution. Daryl gripped his crossbow tightly, eyes focused on the trees in front of him.

"Hey!" a voice quietly called out, a male voice.

"Who are you?" Rick called out.

"Name's Avi Baum! Who are you?"

A huge man, probably about six foot three stepped out from the trees, holding his hands and rifle up. He had brown hair that was cropped close to the head and covered by a red bandana except for a long braided strand that was tucked behind his ear. His dark eyes flicked from Rick to Daryl to T-Dog, taking them all in. Muscles bulged in his thick arms as he slowly lowered his hands so they lay limp at his sides.

"What are you doing out here?" Rick asked.

"Hey, I asked for your names first," the man, Avi, replied, a faint glimmer of humor in his brown eyes.

"Rick Grimes. This is Daryl Dixon and T-Dog Douglas. Now, what are you doing out here?" Rick repeated.

Avi let out a laugh, his smile growing widely. "You guys are Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog? Really? Where are the others? Andrea, Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, and Shane?"

"You know about us?" T-Dog asked, lowering his weapon.

Avi gave an enthusiastic nod. Rick and Daryl exchanged a glance before they too lowered their weapons.

"How?" Rick asked.

"I was sent out here to look for you lot. Emrys's orders," Avi said.

"Emrys?" Daryl asked. "What kind of fucking name is that?"

"He's Welsh originally," Avi explained, "But he rest assured, he's probably the only reason you lot are still alive. I don't like other people walking around here. We have enough trouble with the damn Lazari."

"Lazari? You mean like Lazarus from the Bible?" T-Dog asked.

"Yeah. You lot probably call them walkers or at least that's what the stations did before they all went down, but Emrys started calling them the Lazari and it stuck," Avi said.

"So there are more of you or are is it just you and this Emrys?" Rick asked.

Avi smiled and nodded. "There's four more, but you'll meet them eventually."

"Meet them?" Daryl snarled.

"Yeah. Emrys told me to come look for you, find you all, and bring you back to the Compound. That young kid, Glenn-"

"Glenn? You know where Glenn is?" Daryl snarled.

Nodding, Avi motioned behind him. "He's back at the Compound. I picked him up in the middle of the woods two nights ago. He's perfectly all right, but he asked us if we could find you lot. Also said that you needed shelter. We've got more than enough room for you all."

Rick and T-Dog stared at Avi with wide eyes. Daryl fidgeted where he stood, anxious to get to the smaller man and really see that he was okay.

"Come on," Avi said. "Let's go get the rest of your group and I'll take you up to the Compound. I'm sure Glenn is getting anxious.

When they got back to the vehicles, everyone was wary of Avi. His sheer size scared them a little. Daryl, Morales, and Merle had been the largest men ever in their group in terms of body mass and Shane probably based on size, but they had nothing on Avi. The man was a giant, towering over all of them.

Then Rick told them what Avi had said and they all jumped into action. Everyone had piled into the vehicles, Dale inviting Avi into the RV as it had more room. Dale and the RV took the lead with Rick and Shane following close behind. Daryl decided to take up the rear on his bike.

When he knew that no one was looking, a small grin flitted across his face before it quickly vanished.

They drove up the highway a few miles, turning off onto a rough, ragged road. The vehicles bounded and creaked slightly as they drove over broken asphalt and cement, driving through a small, decrepit town. It had one gas station, one restaurant, and, in the distant, an old mill. The houses that they drove past were as rundown as the rest of the town. Windows were boarded up, but had been broken in, broken pieces of glass littering the front lawns of dead grass. A few roofs had caved in and so many weeds had grown in the cracks in the sidewalks that it was the only constant source of green in the entire town. Even the walkers were scarce as they only saw two the entire three-mile ride through the small town and its subsequent neighborhoods.

"Turn here," Avi said, pointing to a dirt road that ran off into the forest.

The road was long and winding, moving up a giant hill towards the top. All around them, the forest grew denser and denser. The trees seemed to grow taller as their canopies grew and covered the sun, blocking it out almost entirely. Slowly, they made their way up the steep hill.

Everyone stared ahead as they approached the apex, spotting where the land flattened out. As they reached the top, everyone gasped.

The top of the hill had been cleared free of trees, leaving the area completely exposed to the sun. Walls of whitewashed brick rose up at least twenty feet into the air and the ornate iron gate was secured from the inside by several heavy chains and pad locks. Through the curved metal of the gates, the group could see a massive building. It was surrounded by the tall walls on all sides and set in the center of a 500 feet by 500 feet courtyard.

The building was four stories and built of red brick. The front door was set atop a small porch at the top of seven stone steps and it too was chained and bolted. Small windows were set into the exterior walls of the first, second, and fourth floors, all of which were boarded up with wood. At the front of the building, the third story was a bank of glass windows set into wooden frames. Shades had been drawn in front of them all, hiding the occupants inside. This story and the one above it were smaller in width and size than the two below them, creating an almost tower-like effect.

As the vehicles came to a stop and Avi stepped out of the RV, one of the shades on the third floor was brushed aside and a small, dark-haired woman came into view. She was in her early twenties, probably not much earlier than Amy had been when she died. A sniper rifle was in one hand as she used the other to wave Avi towards the house.

Smiling, Avi jogged over to the gates, pulling a small ring of keys from his pocket. With swiftness that none of them would have expected from a man of his size, Avi unlocked all of the padlocks that hung on the inside of the gate. Unwinding the many chains that were wrapped around the iron fence, Avi quickly pushed the gates in and motioned for Dale and the others to bring their vehicles inside the Compound's walls. Dale and the others parked their vehicles beside a beat up station wagon and a much newer Ford truck as Avi quickly closed the gates behind them, securing them closed once again.

"I can see why you call it the Compound," Rick said as he stepped out of his SUV.

"Impressive, isn't it? The house belonged to some big shot from New York. He only came down a couple times a year, we think since the inside seemed barely used when we got here," Avi laughed, patting the locks as they fell against the heavy chains that held the gates closed.

"You're sure we can stay here with you?" Dale asked. "The last place we were allowed the stay-"

"It's perfectly fine as long as you contribute to our survival," a gruff voice said.

No one had noticed the man approaching from around the back of the house. He was of average height with brown hair awkwardly cut at his chin and wild, green eyes. A shotgun was thrown over one shoulder and several knives were strapped to his belt.

"Ah, Lance Larson, meet Glenn's people," Avi said cheerfully as he stepped over to the others.

The brunette nodded in greeting to them before glancing over at Avi.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Emrys asked me to bring them so I did," Avi replied.

That seemed to be enough to settle Lance as he broke out in a smile.

"Great. It'll be nice to have some new company. You can only spend so long with people before they begin to run you up the wall," Lance laughed.

He lead them around back and into a large plotted garden. Various sorts of vegetables grew through the vast yard, everything from zucchini to tomatoes to things that half of them couldn't even name. Lance and Avi shot them grins as Lance pulled out his own set of keys and unlocked the four locks set into the back door of the building.

"Apparently the guy was a health nut or something too," Avi added.

"The basement is still packed full of boxes too," Lance snickered. "He was prepared for anything, even a zombie apocalypse. Luckily for us, I don't think the guy was here when it happened."

The door swung in to reveal a posh, but comfortable living room and kitchen. After months of living out of tents, the group of Atlanta survivors gasped at the beautiful interior of the house. The couches had been stripped of their fabric coverings and cushions, but the beautiful wooden frames remained, situated around a low table full of recently washed dishes. The art had been removed from the walls, the wood from the frames used to board up the windows. However, the paintings themselves had been left resting up against the molding at the base of the walls, the heavy paper glued permanently to the hard canvas backing. The kitchen featured some of the most expensive appliances available, dark granite counter tops, and cabinets that had to have been been custom made.

Three people, two women and a man stood on the far side of the room. One of them the woman from earlier, the dark-haired young woman with the rifle on her shoulder. She was grim faced, taking her time as she glanced over each one of them. The other two stood on either side of her, both smiling. Clearly, they trusted this Emrys too. The second woman was older, probably in her forties with eyes as blue as Daryl's, wide set, but proud. The man who stood beside her was older than the rest, only a few years younger than Dale. His hair wasn't completely white, but rather a salt and pepper color, his once dark locks splattered with gray. His skin was darker than that of the others as well, tinted with a deep tan.

"Tasha Maxwell, Anna Hume, and Logan Jacobs, meet the Atlanta survivors," Avi said.

The three nodded their hellos before Anna, the young woman they'd seen on the third floor, turned around and stormed up the stairs behind her. Sighing, Tasha, the older woman, shook her head and gave the newcomers an apologetic look.

"She isn't happy about having new people around," Tasha explained.

"We can understand that," Rick replied.

"I'm sure you'd all rather see Glenn than talk to us though, am I right?" Logan chuckled with a thick Texan accent. When he saw their enthusiastic nods, he continued, "Unfortunately, he hasn't been completely well. The pain in his stomach that he had when Avi found him has gotten worse. He's confined to a bed upstairs, but I will allow you all to visit, just one at a time. Can't have him completely worn out if he is to get better."

"Are you a doctor or something?" Daryl asked, speaking for the first time since they'd met Avi in the forest.

"I was a trauma surgeon and emergency room doctor back in Austin," the older man replied.

"How'd you get out here, if you don't mind me asking," Andrea piped up.

"Vacation. I took a few days off to see a part of the country that I'd never been to before. I've definitely gotten a good look," Logan laughed, motioning to Rick. "He asked to see you first."

Surprised, Rick nodded and followed the man upstairs while Tasha, Avi, and the others took a seat in the living room. Daryl remained standing, still not letting go of the gun in his hand. He was tense, his blue eyes taking in the room and the people in it.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he glanced over his shoulder at Avi. The man gave him a small smile, holding up Daryl's precious crossbow. The blue eyes flicked up to Avi's, one eyebrow rising slightly.

"He said you'd want it back."

Daryl stared down at the crossbow as Avi passed it to him. The man quickly moved to sit down with the others, crossing his legs on the floor so he was at a somewhat normal height with the others. Daryl's eyes never left his crossbow, running his hands over the smooth wood. As a Dixon, he refused to let tears come to his eyes, but inside his chest constricted.

The crossbow had been meticulously and lovingly cleaned and oiled since he'd last held it two days earlier.

He knew that Glenn had cleaned it.

Hahahahahaha! No cliffhanger, just some drama. Like it? Hate it? Love it? Review because either way, it helps me.