They made base close to the town. It was possibly the only supply area they would have for the next few hundred miles or so. Carl went back to see if he was able to find a map in the pharmacy, and to his surprise he did. It was a small one but enough to give them a good view of where they were and what was around them at a four hundred mile radius. This really was the only town on the map, the rest was just forest. However there were a few farms around a couple of miles from the town, Merle wondered if any or all had living beings. He looked back to see the bruise on Carl's cheek stand out against the boy's pale skin. He unsheathed the Bowie knife from its holster and walked towards Carl.

When Carl finally looked up to see Merle looming over him with a long Bowie knife in his hand, fear engulfed the poor child and Merle's horrible idea of getting back at his father played quite vividly in his mind. He could help himself, nor could he stop himself. Immediately his bowels let loose. Merle looked at him in disgust watching as Carl shrunk further into the ground. The redneck remembered a stream not too far from where they pitched camp.

"Go clean yourself boy!"

Carl didn't need to be told twice as the hot liquid continued to make squiggly lines down his legs, staining his jeans. He was about to run past Merle when the redneck suddenly grabbed the boy's upper arm abruptly halting his steps.

"Wha-."

"Bring something back," Merle growled shoving the knife into the boy's hands. Carl looked down at the knife in pure shock. Did Merle honestly expect him to hunt for something with this? Merle gave Carl a shove, it wasn't supposed to push the young boy onto his butt, however Carl was so stiff with fear and caught up in his thoughts that he was – tippy. Merle regarded Carl with a dark scowl again as Carl scrambled away from the man's towering form and disappeared.

A few minutes passed before Merle sat down, he quickly examined the cauterized stump to see that it was beginning to crust over again. He took the Codeine bottle out of his pocket and examined it. It expires in another year. Merle broke the cap and unscrewed it, there were exactly thirty Codeine pills in the bottle. He shook two out and looked at the small white pills. He thought about the large Ziploc bag that was filled with the Class A good stuff. Merle threw the pills into his mouth and swallowed. It'll do.

XXXXXX

Carl literally ran all the way to the stream. When he saw the flowing water ripple he ran into stream, feeling the coolness wash away the hot piss. The embarrassment left too, and Carl let out a small sigh of relief. He looked around to see nothing but trees, dirt and grass. He walked against the current in order to get the Bowie knife that he had dropped as soon as he stepped into the stream. He picked up the blade by the handle and looked around again – to make sure that he was really alone. Carl pulled the map out from underneath his shirt and pants. It was speckled with drops of water other than that it was perfect. He looked around again and walked towards the shore. He grabbed at the grass and a nearby branch to get over the edge. Carl stood feeling another small pulse go through his bruised cheek. He looked at the ground. If his parents were still alive, if they were still around – somewhere…if they won't find him, then he will.

The morning turned into the afternoon, the suns heat was at full blast making Carl wish that he was back at the stream. He wondered what Merle was doing, possibly trying to get a high on the Codeine that Carl had found. Carl thought about the Morphine bottle that he had tucked away in a small refrigerator that had stopped working a long time ago. The young child didn't know when he would need it, or if he needed it. Leave it, throw it away, use it. But Carl never imagined a situation where he would need Morphine.

XXXXXX

Shane walked out of the house as the RV pulled up in the small roundabout, next came the Cheeroke and then Merle's motorcycle. Just yesterday T-dog came with Glenn in a truck as the opening on T-dog's arm wasn't getting better, in fact it was getting much worse. He had a bottle of powerful painkillers on him, however the label was gone leaving behind bits and traces of the tag. No doubt it belonged to Merle Dixon, Daryl tried to hide it when he gave it to T-dog to use. Shane dipped his head targeting the hunter.

Rick came up from behind, pushing his way past Shane to get to his wife who looked more gaunt than usual. No doubt the stress of her child being abducted was taking a toll. Carol muttered a few words to Rick off to the side about Lori's progress and her own opinions.

"She has to do something Rick," Carol stressed.

"I…," Rick tried to find the appropriate words then finally admitted, "there really is nothing she can do."

Carol looked hurt.

"Look I'm going to take Shane out tomorrow and see if we can find anything."

"She just sits there staring at the walkie-talkie hoping that something will come over it."

Rick ran his fingers through his hair trying to think about something.

"I'll handle her okay?"

XXXXXX

Carl continued through the forest looking at the map once in a while. At school he was taught the basics of map reading in Geography they even had a Park Ranger for a special guest speaker to come in and talk about it. Carl tried to recall the lessons as he stared at the page but he found himself confused and ultimately lost. Carl wished he hadn't dropped the walkie-talkie, he wished that he held onto it for dear life. He could have communicated with the others in secret, at least telling them that he was okay. Carl thought about his parents how terrified they might be. Carl looked down at the knife and then looked at a thick tree in front of him. If they were here….then perhaps. The boy walked up to the tree and placed the tip of the knife against the bark. He carved a single letter into the tree and then stepped back. It was visible only from a certain distance and only at his puny four foot height. There would be no way anyone would see what he had written. Carl looked back at the map and then gave a small sigh. He might as well turn back, nothing else he could do about it. As he turned he saw a squirrel dash across his path. He looked down at the Bowie knife in his hand and suddenly formed an idea.

XXXXXX

The clouds came back, and this time they were a little more forceful. Merle let out a low groan not caring that it could have mistaken him for a Walker. He held his head in his hand and then popped back another pill, in less than five hours he managed to take six Codeine. He also took occasional sips of Scotch to try and disperse the clouds thickening in his mind however the alcohol seemed to only be making it worse. The heat was going down, and Merle's stomach let out a low growl in hunger. He gripped his stomach as a cramp came over him making his double over in pain. He hadn't been this hunger since the hunger strike he and a few fellow inmates set up in order to kick out one of the teachers.

Merle grinned as the memory and others entered his brain, they were bored and there was nothing to do, plus the teacher slapped a few kids around just for kicks. Most of the disruptive things they did in juvenile hall were out of boredom. Merle leaned back remembering those days. He remembered seeing his mother once however after one look at him she decided it wasn't worth it. Daryl's mother didn't even come at all and Merle remembered how much Daryl shrieked and cried through the night, in the end their father gave Daryl milk with Jack Daniels in it to shut him up. Merle was surprised that his brother hadn't dropped dead of liver failure when he turned twenty. Wonder what would happen if Carl was given alcohol? Make a fuss no doubt. But…it would be worth a shot. Where is that boy anyway?

Merle looked around to see that there was no one and nothing. He stood abruptly as a horrible thought came into his mind but was forced to sit back down as the clouds darkened and gathered.

"Bastard," Merle hissed between his teeth. The little prick took off. Merle looked around to see that most everything was there. Merle threw the Scotch bottle at the tree closest as he bellowed out a large cry. Carl had the map. If I get my hands on that little… Merle got to his feet ready to go when he came face to face with Carl. The boy came back empty handed.

"So-sorry," Carl stuttered. He was ready to turn back when Merle took few strides and grabbed Carl by his lapels and shook the poor child hard.

"Where the fuck were you?"

Carl felt himself go numb again as he formed an answer. "I-I went to the stream, to wa-wash up. I tried to find something…."

Merle threw the boy back in disgust and spat on the ground. Carl backed up a few steps to stay out of way of Merle's drug and alcoholic rage.

"Give me the knife," Merle demanded holding his hand out. Carl quickly handed the blade to Merle. With only a quick few moves, Merle had Carl against the ground, rocks pressed into the child's back but that was the least of Carl's problems. He felt the blade go up and down against his throat as he attempted to swallow his fear.

"Remember what I said earlier?" Merle said dangerously as he pressed the blade harder against his skin. "Ya short memory boy?"

Carl suppressed his urge to correct Merle with 'short term memory' and instead just shook his head from side to side however being careful not to do more damage to his throat. Merle continued to study the terrified boy and then pushed him away. Carl took a few extra steps back gingerly touching the spot where the blade, something slide down between his fingers and when Carl took his fingers away, they were bloodied.