Carol stopped at what she saw, swallowing slightly. It looked like a child. Or, what had been a child. Now though, it was a walker. Decaying face, sunken, clouded eyes and a mouth that was a mess of blood and flesh, Carol wasn't entirely sure was all it's own either.

"Oh, shit. Tha's nah right. Must a gotten over run an' the fucker got bit. Put 'I'm down 'ere for 'is own protection. Poor lil' bastardized died alone an' scared." Daryl moved in to kill it, but saw the horror and fear on Carol's face. "Ya don' know how ta take them down. Do ya?"

"Take them down?" Carol's eyes were wide and she swallowed nervously, looking back to the boy, who was studiously ignoring them in favor of what looked like rats. He was becoming more agitated though. He'd notice them very soon.

"Ya gotta kill 'im. Always in the head." He tapped his temple, hard, for emphasis. "'Ere, ya gotta learn. I don' like tha's on a kid, but ya gotta learn. Keep that baby safe Carol." His voice grew harder as he handed her his bow. "Is already loaded, ya don't gotta pull it back, yer too close to miss. Do it quick,"

Carol took his crossbow, it felt heavy and awkward in her hands, she aimed it and she looked through the scope, right as the boy looked up. His eyes were clouded and misty, but he was still a child.

"I can't." She shook her head and swallowed as the boy began to get closer grunting and moaning with hunger. Swallowing, she tried again, his time aiming for his forehead, ignoring his eyes. After a moment, he stepped closer, and she pulled the trigger.

The boy's dirty black hair was quickly stained red as was his face, blood dripping heavily from the wound, around the bolt, as he fell back. He hit the ground with a thump, blood pooling around his head.

"I just-" Carol dropped the crossbow, sank to her knees, and began to weep. Long, drawn out sobs that came from her chest and made her shoulders shudder with the force of it.

Daryl stood awkwardly, before retrieving his bolt and wiping it on his jeans. Carol was still crying, so he bent and laid a careful, slow hand on her back. She snuffled and turned to him, the comfort speaking to her, before settling beside him, her head on his shoulder.

Carol figured she should at least attempt to give him some semblance of trust, he'd done so much for her. If he was gonna hurt her he'd have done it by now. They were alone, she was vulnerable. Hell, he could have fed her to the walker. But he didn't. He was trying to make her strong.

"Ya a'ight now?" He asked, arm wrapped securely around her shoulder.

She nodded, snuffling softly, and just rested there against his side. They didn't say anything else, just sat together quietly and stared at the wall. They were in the basement, Carol realized with a start.

"Daryl." She murmured, looking up at the small window, it was about the size of a person, a thin one, but definitely big enough. "There's a window. Look." She was already on her feet, going for it.

She jiggled the latch, and after a moment and a soft squeak of the hinges, it came free. Smirking at the small victory she looked back to Daryl. "We can get out! We can get out! Give me the bag."

"Ya think I can squeeze my ass outta tha' itty bitty window?" He chuckled, but handed her the bag and she pushed it through the window. Making a ledge with his hand he looked up at her. "C'mon."

Carol did a few hops, then pushed off his hand and wiggled through the window. He pushed her thighs and feet, making sure she got through okay before starting in himself.

"Shit!" Daryl tried to push through the too small window, cutting deep from just below his wrist all the way to his elbow. The blood would attract walkers, not to mention he would quickly bleed out. "We gotta move, now!"

Carol cursed and grabbed his arm, holding tightly just above the wound he half dragged, half guided him back to the truck.

Jamming the key in the ignition she threw a belt at Daryl to tourniquet the wound till she could see it up. She turned the key, but all the engine did was stall.

"Shit!"

Beth was humming weakly, washing herself in the quarry. She was washing her hair, singing quietly to herself. Beth didn't understand why everyone kept saying she was fifteen, or sixteen, or however old they thought she was. She was eighteen last month. Hell, her own brother didn't even know that. Then again, maybe he did. He'd been hit pretty hard.

"Only know you've been high when you're feeling low, only hate the road when you're missing home, only know you love her when you let her go, and you let her go." She was singing Let Her Go by Passenger, one of her favorites, while washing out her hair. Most of the men were off hunting in the woods, so she didn't expect any peeping toms.

"Only miss the sun when it starts to snow." She was messing the song up, so she took to humming as she bobbed under the water and just hesitated there, enjoying the water around her. It was cool and refreshing and made the Georgia heat more then bearable. Swimming deeply under the water she lazed about, Beth had always been good at holding her breath.

"Damn, time for a bath Dixon, your ass stinks." Merle was pulling off his clothes, kicking off his pants and rubbing the back of his head to get through the dirt on his head. He stepped into the water in the quarry, moaning happily at the cold water on his aching skin.

Beth came to the surface, a little deeper into the water, and flicked back her hair, raking a hand through her blonde locks to tame them.

"Oh shit."

so, how much do you hate me? Who do you wanna see first Meth or Caryl? Cause they're both getting pretty steamy ;) I figured you guys deserve a little love, but cliff hangers are the best, sorry this chap is a little shorter then the last. I'm working on getting those muses back. Last weeks ep really helped.