*I do not own The Walking Dead. It belongs to its rightful owner.*

"No one really ever wins in heartbreak warfare."

~ John Mayer: Heartbreak Warfare

Chapter 10: Heartbreak Warfare

When darkness falls, the fish fry starts. We all sit around the fire pit – except for Ed of course – and I lose myself in the laughter, talking, and the good food. As much as I don't want to, I force myself to slowly nibble on the fish; pacing myself. I haven't eaten anything in quite a while and I know if I eat something fast, I will get sick. It happened once at my old camp, thus, resulting in me being bent over and throwing up in the grass while Payton's mom held my hair. I swear I tasted vomit in my mouth for a whole week after that. It was terrible.

"I gotta ask you, man," Morales voice turns my attention towards him as I put a little piece of fish into my mouth. He's talking to Dale. "it's been driving me crazy."

Dale smiles from his place in his chair. "What?"

"That watch," he points to the watch on Dale's wrist.

"What's wrong with my watch?"

"I see you, every day, same time, winding that thing like a village priest saying mass." Andrea nods in agreement, Lori smiles; laughs. I have only been here a day so I haven't noticed the watch, but the conversation still keeps my attention.

"I've wondered this myself . . ." Jacqui adds in, laughing along with Lori.

Dale holds his hands out; the smile is still plastered across his face. "I'm missing the point."

Carl is next to me and he bumps my shoulder. I look at him questionably and he smiles. Weird kid. Then, I turn my head away from him, shaking it in the process. I feel a smile creeping on to my lips. Plopping some more fish into my mouth, I chew on the contents slowly.

"Unless I've misread the signs," Jacqui continues, "the world seems to have come to an end. At least, hit a speed bump for a good long while."

"But there's you," Morales says to Dale. "every day, winding that stupid watch."

"Time," Dale explains his reasoning for the watch winding. "It's important to keep track, isn't it? The days, at least," He gestures to Andrea, asking her what she thinks about the matter. Andrea just scoffs, though, takes a sip of her bottle. Dale turns back to us. "I like – I like what, um, father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, 'I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine, or my fathers before me. I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment, now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it'."

It gets quiet, then. The fish on my plate sits still on my lap. Morales grins at Dale, nodding his head in understandment. I don't really get it, though. Not much, anyhow. I don't know who father is – much less son – but I hope that son was older than me when father gave him the watch. I hope he is because I sure don't understand this or time. Time is time; it's all a matter of time before we all die, right? No, River, no, you shouldn't be thinking like that. You should be thinking about happy things like –

"You are so weird." Amy's voice breaks the silence. Everyone chuckles, yes, even me, because it's true. I don't understand what Dale was talking about and it is how Amy put it – "weird". . . weird and funny. Dale says that the words aren't his; they're someone else's that goes by the name Faulkner. The laughs continue and then they die off, and it goes back to normal.

Amy stands up, then, Andrea asks her where she is going.

"I have to pee," Amy says. "Geez, you try to be discreet around here . . ." She walks off to the RV and more laughs fill the air, mine included.

My fish is almost gone, now, and I take a sip of my water I have sitting beside me. I look around at everyone and realize something. I think I can stay here. I think I can stay here, with these people, and we can all live together. I could stay away from Ed, and Carl, well, I suppose I could try and be his friend. Heck, I can even try to be friends with Sophia, Louis, and Eliza, too. I won't tell Eliza that she is too old for that doll either. I could do this and maybe my dad will fade away from my memory like the cuts on my arms faded into scars. Maybe.

I hear the door to the RV bang open, then, and Amy's voice comes through.

"We're out of toilet paper?"

I turn and see Amy at the RV. Her arm is holding the door open and she is looking at us.

A man walks up to her – wait, that's not a man – and he sinks its teeth into her arm. Amy screams and it echoes throughout all of the camp, like an alarm. It does, and now I'm standing, and everyone else is, too.

"Mom!"

That's Carl's scream and he's right next to me, and his mom, well, she calls his name back and then she's here. Here – right in front of me. Everyone is running around and then there are walkers –walkers everywhere. Where are they coming from? I don't know . . . the woods maybe? But, they are coming towards us and everywhere I turn, there they are; searching for their next meal.

"Lori, get him down!" Shane yells. He has his shotgun and then he pumps it, aims.

Gunshots ring through the air, and it's one after another and after another. People are screaming. It's exactly like when my other camp got attacked and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do like I didn't the first time.

And I wish I did.

"Follow me!" I hear Shane's voice. I turn but Lori, Carl, and Shane aren't there anymore. What? Weren't they – weren't they just right here? Next to me?

"C'mon y'all!" Shane again, "Work your way up here!" I see him, then. I see all of them. They are up by the RV and of course they are. The RV, it's safe. At least I think it is.

"Get to the RV!"

I go to move my legs in the direction of the RV, but I'm stopped when something grabs my arm. My first reaction is to scream – which I do – and my head whips around to see a walker latched onto my arm. Screaming once again, I push its head back with my other arm before it can bite me. The walker is a man, or what's left of a man, and it is strong. Its strength ends up being too much for me and it pushes me down to the hard earth, the air leaves my lungs. Struggling to catch my breath, I hold the walkers mouth away from me with my arms.

My knife – I've got to get to my knife.

I keep repeating these words through my head as I go from having two arms holding the walker up off of me to one. Taking my now free arm, I move it down to my belt – down to my knife in its holder on my hip. The walker's strength is almost overpowering, however, and my grip is starting to slip. I scream as the walker starts to get closer to me and my hand struggles to get my knife.

It's too far away.

I can't get it.

I'm going to die.

The walker is now almost about to bite me and I'm contemplating on just letting go. It would be quicker. But I don't know . . . Honestly, I don't want to die – I'm not ready. I'm terrified, oh, so terrified, but sometimes these things have to happen.

All of the sudden, a gunshot echoes through the air and the once fully alive walker falls limply on top of me. This time, it is dead for good. I lay still on the ground – stunned. I can't move. My heart is pounding.

The dead body is then yanked off of me and Daryl's face appears before my eyes. He helps me up and that's when I realize that he did it.

He saved me.

And that must mean that they're back.

"You alright?" he asks, looking down at me.

"Yeah . . ." I reply, breathlessly. "Yeah, I'm okay." Okay as in physically, no bites or anything, but mentally, probably not.

Daryl nods. I expect him to move away, then, to see about anybody else.

But he doesn't.

He stays right where he is, with me.

I look at the rest of the group; the one's that survived and aren't the bodies littering the ground. They are all hugging their families, sobbing in each other's arms. And then there's me, no family, not sobbing, and standing next to Daryl Dixon. Daryl Dixon, the man who just saved my life.

"Amy! Amy!"

It sounds like a wounded animal, those strangled cries that Andrea is making as she shakes her sister's dead body.

"I remember my dream now," Jim announces, then, causing me to look at him. "Why I dug the holes."

It takes me a moment to make sense of Jim's words, but when I do, I feel like crying.

Crying, like the other group members.

Crying, like Andrea as she screams her sister's name in desperation; wanting her to come back.

Yeah. Crying would be a good thing to do right about now.

Hope you guys liked the chapter!

~ Rainy