Chapter 10: Outnumbered

"Your brother?" Rick asked, and I could hear the genuine disbelief in his voice. "This is his truck?"

I nodded, and then choked on a sob. "Everyone here is dead."

Rick didn't say anything, he just walked around to the front of the car and peered in through the window. "There's barely anything in this car," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, biting back my emotions.

"It's cleaned out, Noah. There aren't even bags in here. The only thing that stands out is the pair of sunglasses."

"Is…is the door unlocked?" I asked hesitantly.

Rick tugged on the door, and it opened. "Guess he didn't bother to lock it after he ran."

I made my way to the driver's side, gingerly sliding into the seat. Aaron had been here. He'd been sitting in this seat. I quickly looked in the middle divider and in the passenger seat compartment. There wasn't much. Aaron's registration and a CD holder that contained a lot of classic rock and Beatles albums. And his baseball cap. His lucky little league baseball cap.

I picked it up, my hand trembling. At first, my initial reaction was devastation. Aaron would never willingly leave this hat. He'd come back for it, even if a thousand walkers were chasing after him. But then…I realized that maybe he'd left it behind for a reason. I wouldn't be deluded into thinking that he knew I'd find it, but Aaron was big on not wanting to disappear into nothingness. That was his biggest fear—not being known. It's why he was pursuing a baseball career. When all the other little leaguers' dreams of being a professional baseball player faded, Aaron's only grew stronger. He played in college, and he was good. None of that mattered anymore, but I realized leaving the hat was some form of trying to leave a piece of himself for someone else to find. And somehow…someway…I was the one who found it.

I clutched the hat in my hand and realized Rick was still standing beside the truck, watching me closely. Without looking at him, I turned around and looked in the backseat. It was completely empty, not a single bag or piece of clothing in sight. It was too empty.

"They made it out," I said quietly. "They had to have gotten out."

"Why do you say that?" Rick asked.

"Every single thing is gone, like you said," I replied. "Everything. I know they took a ton of clothes and food and water and gear, because I remember when I was getting my own little pack when I left I was really frustrated when I saw they had taken a lot of the good stuff. And…I know because…well, Aaron's ball and glove aren't here."

"His what?" Rick asked.

"His baseball and his glove." Aaron had loved his baseball cap, that's for sure, but there was no way he'd ever leave his glove and ball behind. That glove had been my dad's when he was just a kid, and Aaron had been really close with him. The ball was a homerun ball that my dad had caught for Aaron when he was four years old and they attended their first major league game. Aaron had known our dad the longest, and was torn apart when he died. That glove and ball were all he had left of him. He'd never leave them behind unless he was dead. They were to Aaron what my family photograph was to me—the only piece of my past that I had to hold onto. "He took them with him. If he had been killed, they'd still be here. The clothes and stuff, they could have all been looted if he had died, but no one would think to take the ball and glove that he kept shoved under the seat. But he did."

Rick didn't look bought, but I think he saw my need for hope. "I hope he's out there. And your sister."

"He's got to be," I said firmly, jumping out of the car and jamming the cap on top of my head stubbornly. "Aaron and Mandy are out there. I can feel it inside of me. Couldn't you feel that Lori and Carl were still alive? Didn't you just…know?"

He just gave me this stare, the kind that I truly couldn't decipher. He looked like he wanted to say something to me. And then I saw something move a distance away over his shoulder.

"Rick…Rick, a walker."

He turned and saw the thing limping through the cars, meandering along. It hadn't seen us yet. Rick lifted the rifle that was always in his hand, which had a scope, and aimed to shoot.

I think he saw them when I did. It wasn't just one walker. It was a hoard of them. And they were coming straight for us.

"Oh, Christ," he breathed, and then he grabbed my arm roughly. "C'mon!"

He pulled me back towards the others, towards Lori and Carl. "Get down!" he exclaimed to everyone. "Get down! Under the cars!"

I watched as everyone around me hit the ground, Lori, Carol, Sophia, Carl, Glenn, Shane. I couldn't see T-Dog or Daryl, and I guessed Dale and Andrea were in or around the RV. Before I could process what was happening, Rick slammed me to the ground with him and dragged me under a large SUV. Before I could even gasp in surprise, he wrapped a strong arm around my head and clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Not a sound," he barely whispered into my ear.

I couldn't help it. I was shaking. We couldn't survive a hoard of walkers. We were all going to get picked off one by one, I just knew it. I was going to have to watch as Rick and his family were devoured around me as I too became a feast for a dead man, not twenty feet away from my brother's truck. Rick being so close to me did nothing to ease my terror. He wouldn't be able to save me. We were screwed.

When the first of the walkers slowly limped their way past us, I pushed my head to the ground. I didn't want to see. If I saw, I knew I was going to panic. I was going to lose my mind and maybe scream, and that would be the death of us all. Rick's hand remained over my mouth as I tilted my forehead towards the pavement, and he somehow managed to crush me to him at the same time. I could hear the low groans and hisses that the walkers made, and the scraping shuffle of their gait.

I didn't hear any movement other than that. I prayed the others had all found a way to hide. Somehow, the hiding under the car plan seemed to be working. Rick's muscles remained completely taut, and I couldn't have escaped his headlock if I had tried my damndest.

I'm not sure when, but eventually the decaying, passing feet were gone. Not a single sound was made. Ever so slightly, Rick relaxed his muscles. I lifted my head up and looked at him. He was looking ahead, at the car in front, where Lori was hiding with Carol. I guess he saw me out of the corner of his eye, because he turned and locked eyes with me. He dropped his hand from my mouth and then held a finger to his lips.

And then there was a scuffle, and a yelp, and then I could hear someone panting in terror. Rick swung his head around, trying to find the source of the noise, but I saw it first.

"Oh my God, Sophia!" I whispered. Rick immediately turned to me, his face stony, and then he grabbed his rifle and started scooting out from under the car. I watched, too shocked to move. Two straggling walkers had seen her, I'm guessing as she shuffled to move closer to the car that Carl had used for cover. They were snarling and ravenously pursuing her. I could hear scraping and whimpers next to me and saw Carol clawing her way out from underneath her car.

"My baby!" she moaned. "My baby girl!"

Lori was close behind her. "Carol, honey, Rick's gone after her. He's going to get her, alright."

Carol was not so easily consoled. It was like she hardly heard the woman next to her. "Oh, Lori, two walkers are chasing after my baby!"

I took that time to finally remove myself from the little hideaway, standing up and dusting the loose gravel from my clothes. I quickly made my way over to where everyone was standing. I sensed someone standing near me and quickly turned my head. "God, Daryl, you scared me," I said breathlessly.

"Sorry, kid," he said.

I stared at him in horror. "You're covered in blood! You weren't…."

"Bit? No," he assured me. "It's not mine. It's T-Dog's. And before you ask…he'll probably be okay. Impaled his arm on a damn car window." He stared off into the woods. "Grimes'll save the girl."

"I hope so," I sighed, trying to spot the two in the trees, ultimately failing. "Sophia doesn't deserve this."

"No less than any of us do," he replied.

"Her father treated her like shit," I said harshly but softly, not wanting a hysterical Carol to hear me. "And she's only twelve. I mean…God, how much more can be taken from her? She's lost her childhood, her innocence, her good-for-nothing father…. What's next?"

"Her life," Daryl said plainly. "But Rick's not going to let that happen."

I looked at him. "You think so?"

"Rick's a good man," Daryl said in reply. "He's not going to stop until Sophia's okay."

I looked out, trying once more to spot them in the forest, but in vain. I just shook my head, looking away and resting my eyes on Carl, a few feet away, who had never had a more devastated look on his face. "I hope so," I sighed, trying to dust the remaining gravel off of my clothes and palms. "I really, really hope so."

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