The group was quiet after Rick explained the situation in town. Rapidly however, Shane and Rick began arguing over what to do with Randall. Daryl entered the house awkwardly and held his own by the door. Hershel entered from a bedroom and informed the group that the boy suffered nerve damage in his leg and would be unable to walk for a week. As Hershel confronted Shane, Frances slipped over to Rick. Daryl noticed and made his way over also.
"What were the names of the men in the bar again? And what did they look like?"
"Dave and Tony. Dave was heavy with a big beard and Tony more lean. Both had an interest in women. Tony had dark hair and a wise attitude. He said they traveled a lot, pulled stakes and wandered town to town in search of supplies."
"That sounds like the group we were trapped in," Frances spoke worriedly. "But the guys you met last night don't ring a bell. There was no Dave. There was an Anthony, but no one called him Tony."
"Maybe the group picked them up?" Daryl interrupted.
Frances rubbed her temples furiously, "Oh God, do you think their group is growing? There were twelve when we escaped!"
"Daryl, Frances," Rick spoke in a hushed manor. "Can we continue this outside?" Rick led them from the Greene house and into his tent. Frances sat down on the cot while the men stood.
Rick spoke first. "Daryl I think you should interrogate Randall when he's awake. The sooner, the better. We don't want to give him any more time to come up with a story. I also don't think he should know about our women and children. Rick turned to Frances. "You need to get a good look at him and tell us if you recognize him. You also need to tell us everything you can about the men in the group when you left. I want names, heights, weights, detailed descriptions. I want to know how they operate. When they eat, what they eat. If they make supply runs. Special skills, weaponry and order of command. You need to tell us everything you know, no matter how insignificant. If they smoke a certain type of cigarette I need to know about it.
Frances felt overwhelmed. She hadn't eaten yet and could feel a massive headache coming on. She knew she would have to relive her entrapment the moment Rick had finished telling the events of the bar fight. It would be painful, embarrassing, and heartbreaking. "Can I have some water while we do this?" She asked politely. Rick tossed her a canteen before sitting on the ground. Daryl followed suit. After a mighty gulp Frances capped the canteen. She squeezed it in her hands. "Well, we had escaped the highway in Smurna and had been wandering for a few hours. I hadn't even asked Clara her name yet because the girl was still sobbing uncontrollably. I thought we were going to have to sleep in a car. I only had my knife and backpack. That's when I heard something. A man, alive, stepped out from the woods along this minor road we had been walking. He had been urinating. He smiled brightly at us and introduced himself as Justin. He offered us granola bars and bottled water from his own backpack and told us his crew had already cleaned out every car in a five mile radius. Looking back I was desperate and willing to trust. I never let a single one of them touch Clara, but there were some things I couldn't shield her from, like sounds. It was really hard to explain why women always went missing, or why she couldn't leave the tent at night. The living were just as dangerous as the dead."
The men showed a lot of support and concern. Rick rubbed her back when the story became too much to tell. Daryl gave her his clean rag to use for tissue. The whole telling took a little over an hour to relive. Shane had interrupted their meeting and joined in at a particularly difficult part to express. That was the only part in which she didn't look any of the men in the eye.
After the story was over Rick began asking follow up questions of his own. Frances felt sick. The details Rick was asking were too much to provide on an empty stomach. "Can we take a break?" Daryl asked for her. He could tell she was nearing a breaking point.
"How about fifteen minutes?" Rick offered. "That's enough for you to use a bathroom and get a snack. You can come back here after that. It can also give us more time to think of some more follow up questions."
"Sure." Frances relented. She ducked out of the tent and went into the RV. Dale was inside. "Hey Dale," She sat down at the kitchenette. "Do you have any tea?"
Dale took in her appearance. "Are you okay?" He asked while rummaging through his drawers.
"Yeah, the guys are just asking a lot about the group I came from. They're afraid Randall is one of them."
Dale pulled a tea bag and dropped it in a green mug. He then placed it in front of her with two packets of sugar. "If you want milk you're out of luck, the cows broke a fence and are running all over the property." His goofy grin was enough to make her smile.
"A packet of sugar is fine," She waited for him to return with a hot kettle. She thanked him as he poured. "What do you think of Randall?" She asked as he took a seat next to her.
"I don't think he's much of a threat right now. We need to deliberate calmly and with empathy. We brought you into our group out from theirs and you turned out to be a fine addition." Dale reached across the table to take her hand. "Randall is a child. He's probably more afraid of us than we are of him. He could be a good person. Rick saved him, why would he go against us?"
Frances didn't know how to react. She loved Dale, but he was only seeing the good side of people. He was the Frances on the highway, before she encountered Justin. "We just have to be careful. I don't want anyone to go through what I had to. This group is good. He may be a threat."
"Exactly, he may be. He may not. We don't know yet! We need to give him a chance."
Frances wanted to end this conversation before she became angry with Dale. He was one of her favorite people in the camp, beside Daryl, and acted like a grandfather to Clara. She took her mug and broke the contact with the old man. "I have to go back to Rick and the guys. They just gave me a break and I want to check in on Clara. I feel bad shoving her off on someone the entire morning."
Frances found Clara drawing in the kitchen alone. "Chickie? Why are you alone right now?"
"Beth's hurt. They told me to stay away."
Frances patted the girl on the head and glanced over her drawings. "These are really good Clara. We're going to have to ask to put these on the refrigerator. Clara smiled "Not this one though," Her hands scrambled through the loose papers to reveal a brown blob. Frances cringed, she couldn't discern which way to hold the paper, never mind what it was a drawing of. "It's a squirrel! I made it for Daryl." Frances laughed lightly, "Yes, I see! It's going to be a great gift for him! Now keep drawing and stay here. If you want to go anywhere you need to bring an adult. I'll be in Rick's tent if you need me."
Frances went to leave and encountered Andrea on the stairs. "I thought Beth was doing better? What's this I hear that she's hurt?"
"She slit her wrist." Andrea deadpanned.
"What?" Shock apparent in her voice.
"I gave her the option I never had. She wants to live now." With that Andrea rose from the steps. "I'm just never allowed in the house again."
Frances shook her head and went back to Rick's tent. She informed the three men on Beth's condition. They in turn explained the events at the CDC. Frances could understand Andrea's frustration, but couldn't agree with her actions. Rick continued the questioning for another half hour before he dismissed her for the day. He and Shane would debate Randall's fate while Daryl handled the interrogation.
Frances found Clara drawing in the living room. She lay down on the couch, her head was spinning. After a few minutes Hershel came in and covered her with a blanket. She asked about Beth and was told the teenager was doing well. The exhausting nature of the questioning had taken been taxing on her mind and she soon succumb to sleep.
A little while later Clara shook Frances into the waking world. "Can I go for a walk with Daryl?"
"Sure, if he said it's okay." She stated trying to keep her eyes shut and mind away from the real world.
"It's fine," Daryl stated. His voice came from over the back of the couch. She turned to see him in the doorway. "I was going to pick some more Cherokee Roses for Sophia's grave. The ones there now are dying in this heat."
"That's fine with me," I'm going to help with dinner now anyways. Bring back some for Beth too." She reached down to Clara and kissed her forehead. "Be safe chickie."
"I will." Clara giggled in reply.
"Be good, both of you!" Joked Frances as the front door slammed shut.