A/N: Thank you to new story favorites and follows! Sarah Jackson - The Other, NikkiMac20, and Babygirl117, and to rogue4ever for adding me to your author alert list! Thank you! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, it's characters, or it's plot. I own only my OC, and any new OC I may and may not introduce to the story.

I looked over the side of the RV, seeing Amy fall back away from the walker.

I jumped down behind the walker, ignoring the stab of pain that went through my legs, grabbed it by the color of it's tattered and bloody shirt, and pulled it away from her and threw it to the ground. I smashed it's head in with the butt of my rifle. Adrenaline coursing, I scanned the camp.

Amy was crying in pain, a chunk of flesh ripped away from her arm. There were people screaming and crying, walkers were coming out of the woods, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere.

Shane had gotten his bag of guns and threw rifles to several people, while others held shovels, axes, and other makeshift weapons.

My heart pounded, feeling like it was going to burst from my chest.

I shot down every walker I saw, and when I ran out of bullets, I dropped the rifle and hurried to my truck, grabbed my sword from the seat, unsheathed it, and ran back into the midst of the undead.

I killed every one that came within the reach of my sword. I heard one snarling from behind me. I turned just as it stretched out it's arms, leaning towards me.

I stabbed it through the chin, the tip of my blade coming out of the top of it's head. I pulled my sword free and it dropped to the ground. I looked up to see Daryl, several feet in front of me, his crossbow aimed at my head.

"Get down!" he commanded.

I stooped low to the ground and sidestepped to my right. There was a walker behind me, about to grab my hair. Daryl's arrow went into it's head, between it's eyes. Without pausing I put my foot on it's chest, pulled the bolt out, and hurried over to Daryl's side as he cocked the crossbow.

"Thanks," I said, handing him the bolt.

He nodded in reply, put the bolt in place, and shot down another walker. "What happened?"

"I don't know," I panted. "It was quiet, the next thing I knew, walkers were coming from the woods, everywhere." When I thought about what was going on, my hands started to shake and terror filled me, feeling like ice spreading through my body, attempting to freeze me in place. I shook it off and cleared my head, letting my instincts take over. Jaw clenched, I hurried over to where some walkers were chasing after Glenn. I swung my sword, slashing through the ghouls with a blind fury.

The attack only lasted for a few minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.

I watched as Morales killed the last one, and I looked around. The camp was in shambles. Andrea was crying over Amy's now lifeless body. She appeared to have been bitten on the neck and bled to death. There were others, so many others, that lay dead, their bodies ravaged by walkers.

My arms went limp. My katana dropped to the ground, and I fell to my knees, my head hanging, panting for breath, ragged sobs passing my lips. "Why?" I asked no one in particular, barely aware that I was speaking. "Why did this happen?"

Someone crouched down next to me and put their hand on my shoulder. I looked up into Daryl's face, the uncharacteristic expression of concern there.

"Why?" I asked again.

"They're runnin' out of food in the city. This would've happened at some point."

"Not this!" I said hysterically, holding out an arm, indicating what was left of camp. "This!" I held both my arms out, indicating everything. "Why are the dead coming back to life? Why did so many people just die, ripped apart? Why is all of this happening?!"

Daryl put his crossbow on the ground and knelt down, gripped my shoulders, and looked at me sternly. "You need to calm down," he commanded.

"Calm down? How can I calm down? Look at this!" I held my arm out again, tears pouring down my cheeks.

At the sight of my tears, alarm shot into his eyes for a moment, then his expression became controlled. "Calm down," he said again.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" I shoved him away and crawled backwards a few feet, gasping, choking sobs ripping through my throat. I held my head tightly, trying to make the pounding stop, trying to regain my composure. I started rocking back and forth, unable to stop crying.

Daryl wrapped his arms around me, picked me up, and carried me away from the camp, away from the voices and the crying, and the few people that had turned their eyes on me, watching.

"What are you doing?" I managed.

"Getting you away from there, to someplace quiet where you can grieve alone."

He carried me to a spot overlooking the lake and set me down carefully.

"Please stay," I whispered hurriedly, surprising myself.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'm scared that if I'm left alone, I'll fall apart," I confessed.

Daryl sat beside me and placed a hand on my back. He never said a word. He just let me cry until I couldn't cry anymore. As little as that was, it was still comforting.

We must have sat there for at least a few hours, because when the tears finally stopped flowing and I raised my head, wiping them away, the sky was filled with a soft glow, and the last of the stars were disappearing.

I looked over at Daryl. He was watching me closely.

"Are you okay now?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah, I think so."

He removed his hand from my back, dropping it into his lap. "I saw you leavin' the city yesterday," Daryl said softly. "Thanks for goin' after my brother."

"I couldn't find him. I couldn't bring him back. So why thank me?"

"Because you tried."

"It was the least I could do." I sniffed, cleared my throat, and stretched out my cramped legs.

"It means more to me than you think." He said it so quietly I barely heard him, but it warmed my heart a little.

"And staying here means more to me than you think," I said before I could stop myself.

"What was his name? Your brother's?"

I bit my lip and cleared my throat. I didn't want to talk about him, but I had already went hysterical, so what were a few more tears?

"I get it," Daryl said. "You don't like to cry around people. But I don't think you're weak, so if you start cryin', I'll just sit here until you stop again."

I smiled at the ground. "His name was Ross."

"I'm sorry about his death. I'm sure Ross was a great brother." Daryl was chewing on the corner of his lip, not looking at me. I knew and understood why.

I understood how he was feeling, but I wasn't sure what to say that might bring him some comfort. I put my hand on his arm lightly. He flinched but didn't pull away, so I held my my breath and took his hand.

Surprisingly, he gripped my hand tightly. Unsurprisingly, he kept his head turned from me.

"He was a great brother. And I'm sure Merle is too." I spoke calmly and gently, but at the mention of Merle's name, Daryl clenched his jaw and tensed. "I know, without a doubt, that Merle is still alive."

"How can you know that?" he asked.

"Because it would take a lot more than losing a hand to kill Merle Dixon."

I saw the corner of Daryl's mouth lift in a smile, and he squeezed my hand once.

Birds started singing as the sun rose over the horizon.

"I'm gonna go back up. There's a lot of stuff that needs to be done."

Daryl kept a tight grip on my hand and stood with me.

"You really want them to see you holding my hand?" I asked.

"Shut up," he said, not unkindly. "Thanks for everything." He mumbled it quickly and walked back up to camp.

I followed, locking away my emotions so I wouldn't break down again.

As careful as I was, however, I still nearly broke down at the sight of Andrea, still kneeling by Amy's frozen form.

Amy looked as if she could be sleeping, if it weren't for the bite marks on her arm and neck and her blood-soaked clothes and pale skin.

My throat constricted when I saw so many people that I had become good friends with, lying on the ground, lifeless, some of them ripped open, having been chewed on by walkers.

I spotted Glenn sitting in the open doorway of the RV, his head in his hands.

"Glenn?"

He looked up, eyes bloodshot. "Hey," he croaked. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Are you?"

He shrugged.

I leaned down and wrapped my arms around him in a hug, which he accepted, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. When I pulled away, he cleared his throat and stood.

"I guess we should start burying people and burning the walkers," he said, his voice breaking.

I nodded in agreement and took a shaky breath. "Let's gather some people and get to work."