Save the Last One

Daryl, feeling like he was drowning in a sea of estrogen, was quiet as he got up off the floor, grabbing his crossbow and preparing to continue the search for Sophia. The stealth he had learned from his years of hunting seemed to apply to hormonal women as well as animals. He took note of Carol sleeping fretfully in the next room of the RV before feeling eyes on him and turning to see Ingrid sitting cross-legged on the floor in the corner. She was wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie and shorts, and was indiscreetly shoveling handfuls of cereal into her mouth, directly out of the box. Daryl glared at her, at which she swallowed hard and scooted backward a couple inches, a defiant but obviously nervous expression on her face.

He and Andrea left the RV, leaving the rest of its occupants to their own business.