CHAPTER NINE
I stared after him as he disappeared through the trees, my body going into a temporary paralysis. My heart seemed to stop, everything around me seemed to stop: the wind, the birds, the walker a few dozen yards in front of me. I could hear my breathing coming faster as all of my worst fears were realized.

But then my mind kicked in, telling me Daryl wasn't dead. He was coming back. He was coming back for me.

But I didn't listen to his instructions about staying in the truck very long. More like a minute or two before I realized I couldn't stay here.

I shot out of the seat, leaving the map and knowing he was probably already inside the fence, already trying to save everyone.

He couldn't save everyone. Why did he always think he needed to save everyone? I could care less if he saved the entire prison or just me. I loved him and I needed him alive for me and our baby.

I didn't even stop to think about seeing if there was something I could use to defend myself. I ran into the woods, leaving the truck door open, and the walker behind. I ran straight, not sure if it would take me to the fence or not.

"Daryl!" I called, stopping by a little stream. I looked around, trying to remember what Daryl told me about tracking. My dad had taught me a little, but we never had to really track our game. I usually dropped them.

I threw my jacket off, starting to really sweat. I was now stuck in my jeans and yellow T-shirt. It was still too hot.

I looked back down. Footprints heading straight. I figured they could only belong to one person and I took of again, jumping the tiny trickle of water.

I ran until I came out in a very small clearing and then the fence, a small hole slit in the middle of it. I could just make out Daryl running past it, to what seemed like a huddle of people, and on the other side a tank. The tank. My dream...

"Fuck," I whispered, looking at all the walkers walking towards them. Good. That gave me an open shot at the hole in the fence that I was pretty sure Daryl had created only moments before.

I ran towards it, barely crawling through it, trying to be careful, and took off across the small clearing, praying I would make it ok.

I made it onto the concrete part, running up and stopping in my tracks.

"Kyra, don't move!"

Daryl. My head snapped up to see him holding a gun, it pointed towards the chaos at the fence, surrounded by Carl, Beth, Maggie, and more.

The dream. It was just like the dream.

Instantly my head snapped over to where Rick was standing, looking beyond him, every part of my being expecting to see Michonne on her knees.

Instead I was greeted by Tyreese and Hershel, a black gun pointed at Hershel's head.

And at the end of the gun...

I felt like the blood was drained from me. It was so much scarier to see him in person. So much more real. The Governor. He stood there, threatening to kill someone I was so fond of. Just like he killed my Dad. And my neighbor Elizabeth, and her son Angel. He was a viscous murder.

Yet all the hate and all the anger I've put into wanting to find him and kill him, I just wanted to run away. Run in the opposite direction, curl up in a ball, and cry.

I wanted Daryl to hold me.

"Run when I say to! Go straight to the bus!" my attention snapped back to Daryl, telling me almost exactly like he did in the dream. I nodded, feeling fear caused tears threaten to come.

I was not as strong as I thought I was. I was so insanely scared and I was shaking and I wanted to cry but I couldn't.

Beth looked over at me, desperation in her eyes.

"Daddy," she mouthed to me, turning back to look, her fingers gripped the fence. I felt bad for her. I knew her pain.

"He killed my daddy, too," I whispered, my throat constricted. I may be mad at her, but nobody deserved what the Governor did to people.

I went to instinctively reach for my knife, only to find myself wearing my moccasins. Just like in my dream.

This was too much like the dream. Too much. If it played out the way my dream did...

"Daryl," I whispered, as I looked at him whisper something to Carl.

And that's when a shot rang out. Beth and screamed for their father and I jerked my head around to see Hershel fall face forward, and I let out a terrified shriek. He killed Hershel. The Governor killed Hershel. Just like my dream.

"Run!" Daryl yelled, not even looking at me.

Then chaos ensued. Shots rang out everywhere. The tank busted through the fence, and suddenly I was turning and running.

The bus. Sick people. Glenn. Shots. Bullets. Sick people. Daryl. Daryl. My baby. Our Baby. Daryl. My thoughts were going crazy and I knew what was about to happen.

The stinging sensation in my arm, I was falling. I quickly turned, not believing I did it, landing on my back instead of my stomach.

The shot hurt so much more in real life. I wanted to cry so badly, but I didn't. I jumped up, seeing the girl with the crazy curly hair run after me.

I spun around on my heels, thinking about the prison and the two walkers.

But I wouldn't go there. Instead, I cut across the field, heading towards the truck. Which was a little more riskier than going in the prison. I could possibly trip and let her catch up with me, or I could run into a walker, or I could fall on my stomach. But, I needed to get to the truck.

I climbed through the gate, she shot at me again and missed, hitting fence beside me. I screamed, poking the side of my arm with the fence and scratching the hell out of it. My shirt partly ripped, but I kept going, Daryl and my baby fueling me.

I ran through the woods, hoping I could use them to my advantage. I was used to the woods. Maybe she wouldn't be.

I zig zagged through trees, ran under shady spots, and tried not to leave too much of a trail that I could help. But it didn't matter if I did. I was always far enough away she couldn't get a good shot on me, yet close enough she could follow pursuit and not lose me.

Eventually there was a little break in the woods and I seen a hunk of orange and instantly knew it was the truck.

I was almost scared to break out of the woods, it was my safety net. I could keep out of her way in there. But if I left, I would be out in the open.

But I did. I shot out, running straight to the back. I was far enough ahead of her for my plan.

I jumped in the back, threw open the tool box, and quickly searched for any type of weapon.

I pulled out my knife, throwing it on the ground behind me, a black bag, and then a gun. Just a small black pistol.

I didn't know if it was loaded, but when Curls broke through the woods, I pointed it at her, one hand tightly on the handle, finger pulling the hammer back, other ready to squeeze the trigger, my other hand supporting my wrist for aim.

"Drop your gun," I tried to order, but she just stared at me, her face determined, her eyes scared. "Listen, you don't understand. You don't want to shoot that gun. I'm... I'm pregnant."

"You don't look pregnant," her thick southern accent stated, her legs dancing like a boxers would in the ring, standing in his corner waiting to pounce.

"I'm only two months. But I am. I have a family to go back to. I don't want to have to kill you either. I know the Governor-"

"The who?" she asked, sounding more angry than curious. She was probably pissed that I was holding a gun to her head and questioning the man she trusted.

"Your leader. The man who just killed one of the most amazing men I have ever met before. The man who killed my father. The Governor. I knew him. He did the same thing to our group. It didn't end well for us. The people he brought to kill other people with? He murdered them. They didn't know what was going on. I can help you. My husband and I can help you. You don't have to pull that trigger," I coaxed her, praying that if she did shoot, she'd miss. And that my gun had at least one bullet in it. I wish I had time to check...

"I do. I have to, m'am. I'm sorry," she frowned, shaking her head.

"You don't. What's your name?" I asked, seeing her shoulders go slack.

"What's it matter?" she asked, a bit confused, her shoulders tensing up again, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, if you're going to murder me and my baby I'd like to know what your name is," I was shaking, trembling. My baby.

"It's... It's Kasey."

"Kasey. I'm Kyra. Listen, I know the kind of power the man out there has. I know how crazy he is. You don't have to do this. My husband and I, we can bring you to a safe place," I tried to reassure her. "We'd never have to tell anyone that you tried to kill me. My arm," I glanced at it, red dripping from my yellow shirt, "I'll say someone else shot at me. You don't have to do this. Please."

"I do. I have to. I'm so so sorry, but he'll kill me, Kyra."

"I know you trust him and think he's a good man, but he's-"

"I don't think he's a good person, m'am. But I have to do this. He'll kill me," she looked at me desperately. And I quickly thought.

"I can keep you safe. You're only what, twenty?"

"Sixteen," my throat tightened. Sixteen. She didn't look anywhere near that. She looked years older than me and I was only nineteen. Two teens, trapped in an apocalypse, pointing guns at each other. For what?

"Sixteen. I was sixteen once, you know. Under his influence. It took him killing the only family I had left to realize he wasn't who I thought he was. You don't have to do this," I repeated. She had to know how scared I was, right? I needed to look brave but I couldn't calm myself down and I didn't know how Daryl was and I didn't want to have to shoot this girl... But she may kill my baby.

Kasey's body seemed to calm a little, her boxers dance slowed.

"Kyra, was it?" I nodded. "Ok... Ok. You'll keep me safe?"

I nodded, smiling. But I wouldn't drop my gun until she did.

"Where's... Where's your husband?" she asked, lowering her gun.

"He's back there," I pointed with my gun.

She moved forward and I instinctively moved back.

"Your arm..." she motioned towards it.

"You just grazed me. I'll be fine. Did you have family with..." I gestured up the road where all the chaos was. I didn't know what she called him.

"No. No, I was alone."

"Ok. I have to go back and find my husband, ok? Stay here," I didn't lower my gun. Not yet.

"Don't leave me, Kyra. He'll kill me. Like he killed Martinez..."

Martinez. I had a little crush on that punk the first few weeks I was at Woodbury.

"He killed him?"

"I.. I think so. I'm not sure. But I think he did, yeah," she nodded.

I nodded, just barely lowering my gun.

"Kasey, I have to find my husband. You can either go with me or stay here. But either way, I have to go."

"You said you'd protect me!" she nearly screamed, her copper hair falling in her face, panic evident.

"Hey. Hey," I held my hands out, "I will, ok? Just... Just wait here, ok?"

"No! He'll kill me!"

"Kasey! Get in the truck and lock the doors. I'll be back with Daryl as soon as I can!"

She looked like she would cry and I didn't really trust her, but she nodded.

I picked up my knife and ran past her, back into the woods, past the creek, and then past the fence.

The first thing I seen was the Governor on top of Rick.

I froze, my fear engulfing me. I couldn't help Rick if I couldn't get over my fear of the Governor. But anytime I looked at him I saw him killing my dad...

I shook my head, wiping tears away that had threaten to come since this morning, and acted.

I got low, hoping no one would shoot at me, and began walking over there, crouching and looking for Daryl.

Nada.

I heard a gurgling noise and then a hissing and my head snapped back to attention.

The Governor was pinning Rick, his hands around his throat.

"Stop!" I screamed, a burst of courage shot through me and I almost expected it to be like the dream and have no sound come out.

Instead, the Governor's slowly turned towards me, blood all over his face. He grinned. Or grimaced. I couldn't tell.

"Get off him!" I yelled, my gun pointed at him. His grip didn't loosen.

"Shoot... Him..." Rick barely got out.

"Let him go, Governor," I ordered, feeling very very small.

He looked at my gun, then back at Rick.

Rick would die if I didn't do something.

I had never killed someone. Didn't ever want to. And I wasn't sure if my gun was even loaded.

But I squeezed the trigger.

The small shot rang out, and the Governor cried out, rolling off Rick. I had only hit him in the chest. Not even the heart.

I walked over on top of him, my face flushed. I felt like I was going to die.

I shot him again, missing his heart again. Good. Maybe he'd bleed out.

He stared at me, eyes gazing my face, not recognizing the young, innocent girl I used to be.

I left him, feeling weaker than when I came, helping Rick up.

We stumbled towards the prison, the roles reversed. Once upon a time, Rick had to help me walk. Now I was paying back my dues.

That was all.

"Tyreese?" I asked, Rick wheezing beside me.

"Alive," he nodded, holding on to his side.

I nodded, praising The Lord above.

"Hershel?" I asked, knowing I was wasting my breath.

Rick didn't answer, giving me my answer. My stomach dropped.

We reached the prison and he instantly started calling out for Carl.

"I have to find Daryl," I made sure he understood. "Carl will come, Rick. Carl is ok."

Rick nodded, looking terrible. His eye was swollen, he was bleeding everywhere, and he looked just as mentally broken as he did physically.

I couldn't just leave him like that. But I was growing more desperate, more concerned with losing Daryl.

But then Carl came around the corner, looking terrified and pissed off. He ran over to Rick and I turned, heading into the direction where I saw Daryl.

I was almost there when an explosion shook the ground, causing me to fall back. I couldn't see what was going on, but multiple walkers began heading towards the explosion, a few finding me in the process.

I turned, not knowing if Daryl was close to the explosion or not, and took off in another direction.

I didnt know how long I could keep fighting back these terrified tears, the fear of losing my baby or losing Daryl, and the desperation of needing to find Daryl was growing stronger with every single step I took. Was I getting closer? Further from him? I needed to know.

I stopped, once again, staring at a babys car seat.

"Judith?" I nearly whispered, the car seats back turned towards me. "Rick!" I screamed, running towards it. I was only a hundred or so feet away. "Carl!"

I reached the car seat, jerking around and let out a startled scream, stammering back and tripping over something, landing on my butt.

"Rick! Rick!" I shouted, now scared more than excited. I covered my mouth, the tears threatening to pool out, my entite body warned me that I was about to being my sobbing.

No. I couldn't do that.

The only thing the car seat held was blood. Lots of it, even if it waa just a baby.

"Kyra! What happened?" Carl came into the picture, supporting his dad.

"Oh, God..." I shook my head, my hand still covering my mouth as I stared at the car seat. The bloody car seat.

They quicly walked over and Rick instantly cried out, making stomach twist.

"Oh.. No.." he moaned, grabbing onto Carl, who began moaning and sobbing too.

I managed to pull myself together a little, pushing the thought of the little girl out of my mind.

"We... We have to go," I wiped my mouth, sniffing and standing up.

Carl shook his head, sobbing.

"Judith," he moaned, looking up at me.

"I know, Carl. But she's gone. We have to go," I tried to sound strong but I sounded just as frightened and alone.

The three of us someone how managed to leave the car seat, Rick hanging off either side of Carl and me. We walked towards the fence, needing to leave. But I stopped them.

"I have to find Daryl," I hissed, wringing wet with sweat.

"No. We have to keep moving," Rick shook his head, barely able to talk through his injuries.

"I have to find him!" I argued, looking out across the prison.

"There," Carl pointed out over a herd, across the prison. I followed his hand, leading me to Daryl, who was forever away. My heart surged. I had found him.

"Daryl!" I screamed, catching the attention of a walker.

He didn't hear me, or at least he pretended not to.

"Daryl-" I stopped screaming as the unmistakble Beth Greene ran beside him, looking desperate and alone.

"No," I whispered, heading towards them. Rick grabbed my shirt.

"He'll be fine-"

"Daryl!" I screamed again, trying to catch his attention. Instead, he turned and he and Beth ran in the opposite direction.

"No! Daryl!" I screamed, trying to get to him.

"You'll run right into the herd, Kyra! We have to go," Carl reasoned, and eventually I have up, leaving with them.

As we walked past the gate, Carl turned his head.

"Don't look back, Carl."