CHAPTER TEN
We made it through the fence, all three of us trying so hard to keep it together. They had lost Judith, I had lost Daryl. And now I didn't know what to do.

We started down the road, about half a mile from where Daryl had parked. Rick hung on us, barely able to walk. I threw my arm under his arms, trying to support him. I was slick with sweat, we all were, and smelled terribly of smoke and gun powder.

Suddenly my knees buckled and I fell to the ground, Rick nearly falling behind me, but Carl was able to support him.

My palms dug into the gravel, I was on all fours. I heaved, throwing up. All of my nerves seemed to take ahold of me as I vomited, my entire body shaking.

It didn't last long, and then I was standing up, wiping my mouth, and looking up at Carl and Rick. They looked back, no pity. I didn't expect it.

"Come on," I stood up, replacing myself by Rick. "I have a truck down this way," I nodded towards the direction and we continued walking.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't go on and not know where Daryl was. If he was alive. There were so many walkers in there, who knows if he even made it out of the prison...?

"There's somebody waiting for me at the truck," I warned them, remembering Kasey.

"Who?" Carl asked, his hand resting on his gun at his side. I didn't blame him. Mine was too.

"Her names Kasey," was all I said. I didn't know how they would react if I told them that she was one of the Governors people.

"Is she harmful?" Rick asked, his voice strained.

"No..." I lied, looking up at him. I doubt he would believe me. "You shouldn't talk right now," I said instead, looking back at the road.

Nobody said anything.

The orange truck came into view and I let out a whispered: "Fuck me," when I saw feet sticking out from underneath it, by the feet a flat tire.

I dropped Rick and ran over, letting out a small sigh. Kasey's body was leaned up against the car, her face disfigured, blood all over the side of the truck, her face, her clothes, and her shoulder. In her hand, her gun, and a few feet away, the walker that had walked towards me before I ran towards the prison.

"Damn it," I sighed as Rick and Carl came around the corner.

"She get bit?" Carl asked, looking at her disfigured face.

I nodded, looking at her shoulder. Definitely bit.

"And we can't use the truck. She must've accidentally shot it," I patted the tire irritably.

"So, nothing?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, pissed. She should have stayed in the truck like I told her to. I reached inside and grabbed the map, shoving it in my back pocket. I picked up my knife by the truck and opened the tool box. I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.

"Let's go," I repeated, once again helping Carl hold up Rick. He wasn't in any good shape to walk. We needed to find somewhere to crash. Quickly.

After what seemed like forever, Carl threw a fit and quit helping Rick. So I was left supporting him.

Carl walked ahead of us, trying to be brave, his hand on his gun. I sighed, he didn't know how lucky he really was.

"Carl, slow down!" Rick called, his breath shaky. Carl paid no attention to him.

"You shouldn't talk," I repeated, giving him a pity look, one had around his back, right under his arm to hold him up, the other hand holding his wrist, his arm slung over my shoulders.

"Kyra... Make him.. Slow down," he huffed out, his hair in his face.

"Just let him be, Rick. He's only a few feet in front of us. He'll be ok," I reassured him. He looked at me, I couldn't tell if his eyes were squinted or swollen, but we kept walking anyway.

We eventually found a gas station, hoping to find food or something. But all we found was a giant walker. Carl got into trouble because he shot it, we needed to save bullets.

We left with very little, stuffing some stuff in my back pack, some in a bag. Then we were of again.

We walked a few more hours until we found a house, a giant white one that reminded me so much of my house... Where my family waited for my arrival in less than two days. I wouldn't make it.

"Don't use your gun unless you have to," Rick reminded us, before he kicked the door in, busting the wood by the lock.

We slowly walked inside weapons ready, my knife hanging off my jeans.

We cleared the house, not finding anything, and Carl secured the door with cables, and I helped push a couch against it.

"What, my knot wasn't good enough?" Carl asked, looking up at Rick.

"I'm just taking extra precautions," Rick sighed.

"My knot would have done just fine!"

"Carl-" I began, but he cut me off.

"Nobody asked the whore for her opinions!" he yelled and I shrank back. I wasn't used to this anymore.

"Carl!" Rick yelled, Carl just stared at him, nostrils flaring.

"When'd you decide to take her side? When'd you even show up?" he threw at me. "How do we know she wasn't helping the Governor?"

"Why would I help someone who killed my family?" I asked quietly, and he stared at me.

"Rick, you need to rest..." I sighed, sitting down in the floor, my head against the wall. "You too, Carl. We'll need our rest."

My heart ached. I was stuck with Carl and Rick, who thought I was a whore, while my husband was off with Beth, who had already tried to break us up once.

But I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't cry in front of these assholes. Daryl would find me. He could track. He would find me... He would find me...

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