Carol had a gut feeling that Daryl wouldn't have gone too far. If he truly was concerned about her safety she really believed he would make an attempt to find a spot he could observe the farm from, at least for a little while, until he was confident she was fine with him gone. So she started her search around the perimeter of the woods, all areas that had a line of site to the farm. It took what had to be close to an hour to cover the ground before Carol started to question her gut instinct.
There was no sign of him or any noticeable evidence that he'd been in those areas recently. She was no tracking expert like Daryl but she tried to watch for bent branches, trampled underbrush or even footprints - to no avail.
Carol took a moment to rest and gather her thoughts. She wasn't giving up until she found him or died - which might come quickly from dehydration, she thought with a deep sigh. Why hadn't she taken the time to pack a bag of supplies? Ah well, when she got desperate she would sneak back for supplies, in the middle of the night when the others would all be sleeping. She could loot Daryl's tent and maybe not even have to go in the house. He had water, she knew that much.
A tinge of sadness struck her. Daryl didn't have any supplies, only his weapon. He didn't have her to make sure he ate something either. Okay, now you're just being an idiot, Carol told herself. Somehow he'd survived before she came back into his life - he was definitely far better equipped to make it out there than she was.
Carol got up and resumed her search, going deeper into the woods this time. He really wouldn't just disappear like that would he? They still had so much to sort through. At least she knew why he hadn't wanted her to stay the night with him, but his past was still mostly a mystery. Carol didn't know what happened to him during the war and after. That last letter - when he told her he wouldn't be able to write for a while was where it had ended back then. She needed to know why he hadn't wrote again or why he didn't try to find her.
None of that was why she so desperately wanted to find him though. Carol was quite certain that whether she'd known him as a young girl or not she still would have fallen in love with him in this life. And she was in love with him - deeply. She truly couldn't deny that it was strengthened by feelings from the past, but she knew that no matter how different he might be now she still loved the man he'd become. Why couldn't he believe that? Why couldn't he trust her?
Carol trudged through the brush. Why was there absolutely no sign of him? She walked, hiked, trekked and pushed herself for hours. The whole time she wandered her mind was on the past few weeks. She thought about Sophia and how much she missed her. But she also thought about the commitment Daryl had given to finding her daughter. It was the same commitment she was now devoting to finding him.
A noise caught her attention and Carol saw two walkers off in the distance. She quickly moved in the other direction. They hadn't noticed her and she was able to take a route far enough around them that she didn't have to shoot her gun. Once she was safe Carol took a minute of frustration in the fact that she hadn't even grabbed a knife. She wasn't confident in her ability to kill a walker with a knife, but she didn't have a lot of ammo and eventually she was going to run out. She mentally added that to her list of things she would pick up if she didn't find Daryl and had to go back.
It was already starting to get dark when Carol sat down again. She was exhausted, frustrated and just really, really lonely. All she wanted was to see his face and hear his voice. All she wanted was for him to trust her and give them a chance. She pounded a fist into the ground and immediately pain stung her. "Shit," she cursed out loud, when she looked at her hand. She'd hit a stick and it had cut her knuckle open. Carol leaned back against a tree and sighed deeply. She continued to do very stupid things and stupid gets you killed. If she didn't get smarter pretty damn soon she was never going to find him and she would be long dead before anyone even came looking for her.
After she caught her breath Carol got up again. She wiped the blood from her knuckle on her pants. She might have to go in the damn house after all to get something to clean and bandage it. She decided she would sneak to the edge of the woods to wait until the house lights were out so she could get what she needed. But when she stood up and looked around - nothing was familiar. Fear gripped her and panic seized her body as Carol realized she was lost.
Why the hell did I think I could do this? Why the hell didn't I just ask for help? I am such a moron. The thoughts screamed in her mind, swirling and building until she had to crouch down and hold her head. Get a grip. Fight. Be strong. The positive words were pushing their way out from somewhere inside her. This wasn't much different than those days that Ed had beat her down both physically and emotionally. Even when she wanted to give up - she never did. Carol stood. Okay, maybe she was lost, but there was still a chance she could find her way. She couldn't give up. She wouldn't.
They had learned that noise draws walkers, but something still made her call his name. "Daryl," she screamed. "Daryl." She was yelling so hard it hurt her throat. All the frustration and desperation of her search was flowing out of her as she called out to him. He had to be somewhere near. He had to be close. He had to hear her.
It was getting so dark. She needed to move. Carol started to run. She tripped and fell sprawling to the ground, then picked herself up and kept going. "Daryl," she screamed again. It hadn't worked when they were looking for Sophia. But Daryl was out there, he wasn't a monster already like Sophia had been. She had no idea where she was going. Her eyes strained, looking for lights but there was nothing. How far had she wandered?
A sound made her freeze. It was a snarl. No, it was several snarls. Without even looking she knew she was surrounded. Any second they would be close enough for her to see. How many were there? How many bullets did she have? 6? Maybe 8? 9 if she was really lucky. Carol pulled the gun out of her waistband and turned in circles, watching and waiting for the first one to appear. There - she saw one coming at her. She lifted the gun and tried to pull the trigger. Nothing. Dammit, the safety. Carol fumbled with the gun, her hand shaking as she tried to get the safety off. Finally. She aimed again and fired, hitting the walker right in the chest - exactly where she had aimed. In her terror and panic she completely forgot about the head. She knew better and now she had wasted a bullet. She raised the gun and shot again, hitting the walker in the head. It dropped to the ground and she spun and aimed again. This time she missed with the first, but hit the monster with the second shot. Oh god, there were still more, the sounds - they were coming from all directions. 4 bullets down. How many more chances did she have left?
With two shots in quick succession she dropped two more. I can't miss. I can't miss. She repeated the words in her head and somehow her shaking hand listened and her aim was true. Two more shots and two more dead walkers. The noise was getting quieter. There couldn't be too many more. But did she even have any bullets left?
She could see two more coming at her. Carol shot the first one. 9 bullets gone. She aimed at the second and nothing happened when she pulled the trigger. Shit. She was out of bullets. And the walker was close. Run. She turned and started to run, but it was so dark. She tripped on something and fell to the ground with a thud, knocking the wind out of herself.
Carol realized in horror that she had landed on top of one of the walkers she had just killed. The other beast was still coming. She scrambled to get up but it was there. Snapping. Snarling. Carol kicked and connected with it's chest, knocking it back briefly, but before she could even move it was there again. She put out her arms and shoved at it's shoulders, trying to keep it's mouth from biting her face.
In one final last ditch effort she screamed again. If nothing else, his name would be the last word she said before she died. "Daryl. Daryl."
Carol fought hard, but she was getting tired, so tired. She saw something in her peripheral vision and all of a sudden dead weight fell on top of her and the snarling stopped. She was exhausted. What just happened? The weight lifted and there was a flashlight. Someone was there. "Carol," a voice said.
Relief filled her. "Oh thank God, you saved me." She felt arms around her and she hugged him back.
"Come on, let's get you back to the farm," he helped her to her feet and Carol realized someone else was there too.
"I can't go back," she said sadly. "I have to find him first. But I need help. Will you help me?" It was time to reach out and admit she couldn't do it alone. "Rick - Shane -" she looked from one man to the other. "Help me find him and bring him home."