Second Chance - Chapter 11 – Co-Authored by Rckyfrk & Remi Savant

Rick stirred in the cool morning air, groaning instantly at the stiffness in his back. He moved to roll onto his side, but found his arm was pinned to the ground. He looked down to see Lori, her head lying on his shoulder, her hand resting over his heart. Rick smiled and rolled toward his wife, wrapping his arm around her.

The small movement was enough to wake Lori; she blinked up at him and smiled, "Good morning."

Rick smiled back and kissed her softly, "Good morning. It's nice waking up with you in my arms again." It really had been far too long since he'd felt her warmth next to him first thing in the morning.

Lori pulled herself closer to him and sighed, "Yeah. This is nice." Rick rubbed his hand up and down her back and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. He felt Lori kiss along his jaw, across his cheek, before finding his lips again, pulling him down for another kiss that quickly grew passionate. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her intimately close. On a whim, Rick peeked over her shoulder, and stopped his movements; any mood that had been building was instantly squashed.

"Where's Carl?"

"Isn't he still in bed?" Lori asked, turning to look at the other side of the tent.

"Guess it's time to get up," Rick grumbled, groaning again as he stood and stretched the muscles in his back. He and Lori quickly dressed and headed out of the tent.

Rick hurriedly glanced around the camp, looking for any sign of Carl. Not seeing the boy, he quietly called out, "Carl?"

Rick heard Carl's voice from atop the RV. "I'm up here, Dad. Dale's letting me use his binoculars."

"I hope you don't mind," Dale called down.

Rick walked closer to the RV, Lori following closely, shielding his eyes from the rising sun, and replied, "As long as he isn't bothering you."

Dale chuckled, "No, he's no bother at all. Can't have too many eyes looking out for trouble."

Rick strode to where Carol was tending the small camp fire. Lori sat next to the fire, pouring herself a cup of instant coffee. He was about to speak when they heard a rustling sound from the trees nearby. His hand instantly sought the handle of his Colt Python and turned to search for the source of the sound.

Daryl appeared out of the brush and Rick relaxed immediately. Daryl had his crossbow slung over his shoulder and had several squirrels tied to his belt. When he saw Rick and Carol's alarmed faces, he explained, "I said I'd start looking at first light. I didn't find any sign of her yet, but I found us some breakfast." He turned to walk to his corner of the camp and began skinning the small animals.

Rick's smile quickly faded as he saw Carol's disappointed look. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said, "Hey, we'll keep looking. We'll find her." Carol nodded silently; Rick dropped his hand and headed toward the farm house.

Hershel must have seen Rick approaching because he met him on the front porch. "Mornin, Rick," the older man called out as he drew near.

"Mornin, Hershel," Rick replied, offering a wave. "Figured we could go over everyone's plans for the day one more time."

Hershel smiled, "I'm not your chaperone, Rick, but I appreciate the open lines of communication."

Rick clenched his jaw, just briefly, thinking of what he was sure was lurking in the barn. 'Open lines of communication, huh?' he thought, but kept it to himself. This was not the time to start that discussion. Instead, he cleared his throat, "Once we get through breakfast, me, Daryl, and T-Dog are going out to keep looking for Sophia...Carol's daughter. We could really use someone who knows the area pretty well. Would it be alright if we asked Jimmy or Otis for help? We've got a couple people who are staying behind who could help pick up any slack."

Hershel thought for a moment, "Like I said, I'm not a chaperone. If you want to ask Otis or Jimmy, that's fine, but I can't give up both my farm hands."

"Thank you, Hershel," Rick extended his hand for a handshake. "We really appreciate everything you've done for us already." Hershel shook his hand. "I heard Maggie was planning on heading to town for soap and things like that. Glenn is real good at getting in and out of places when he's out on a run. You might ask him to go with her, just to make sure no surprises come along. Safety in numbers."

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Daryl walked a few paces ahead of Rick as they searched their section of the woods, heading northeast from the farm house while T-Dog and Otis made their way southeast, planning to work their way to the middle. They ignored the walkers they could and took out the ones they needed to. Daryl fired his crossbow at the odd squirrel or rabbit that crossed their path; Rick was ever grateful that Daryl had already taken to helping provide for the group. It felt like old times again...old times that had only happened in his false memories.

After walking for a few hours with only a few brief conversations, Daryl suddenly held his hand up, halting Rick in his tracks. Up ahead, Rick could just make out the side of a small house, the light blue paint peeling and weeds overtaking the yard. As they broke through the tree line, they could see a small cottage sitting on the edge of a peach tree grove. The men looked at each other and seemed to have the same thought; they simultaneously drew their weapons and began scoping the perimeter for any potential threats. Once they were convinced the yard was safe, they ventured closer to the house.

Rick reached the front door first, taking a moment to pound on the door and wait for any walkers to make themselves known. Not hearing anything from the inside, Rick tried the door, relieved to find that it was left unlocked. He kept his pistol aimed in front of him, quickly searching the front room for any signs of movement, threatening or otherwise. They made their way through the house, finding it clear, and began searching for signs of Sophia.

After several minutes of searching, Daryl found an opened jar of peaches and several pits that looked too fresh to have been there for long. Rick looked hopefully at Daryl; maybe she was still close by. They didn't find much else in the small cabin, except for a bed that looked recently slept in. They headed out the back door and started exploring the peach grove.

They made their way up and down the rows of trees. Rick noticed Daryl slow down, his gait more intentional. "Whatcha got?"

"Walker tracks. At least four or five."

A cold chill shot down Rick's spine as he rushed over to fall in step with Daryl. "Any sign of what they were after?"

Daryl shook his head, "Hard to tell through all their footprints." He suddenly raced ahead and bent down, "But I think I know what they were chasing." He held out Sophia's rag doll to Rick. He took the doll with a shaking hand. "Question is, did they chase her to the house or from it?"

"You think Sophia could hold off a bunch of walkers by herself in that little house?" Rick questioned. Daryl shrugged his reply. "Can you follow where the tracks lead?"

Daryl squinted toward the tree line, following the trail heading due west. "Shouldn't be too hard." Rick took up after him, nervous at the realization that they were basically heading back in the direction of the farm house.

Another few hours later, they heard the unmistakable hisses and groans of a group of walkers. As they continued on, Rick and Daryl spotted three of the undead stuck in a mud bank next to a small stream. The three were trapped in the mire up to their knees, unable to drag themselves out. Daryl dropped his crossbow to his side and took in the sight in front of him, searching the ground for clues as to what had happened.

Rick's heart dropped. He recognized this place; Hershel had brought him here to show how his family "rescued" the walkers the Greenes once thought of as sick. If Sophia had gotten to this point, and Daryl didn't find any of her tracks, surely she must be in the barn. He asked, "Any sign of her?"

"Nah," Daryl said after a moment's search. "Her tracks end here. She must have taken off in the water again. She sure ain't makin' this easy. She might have headed back to the peach grove – we might have just missed her. That or she kept going this direction. Hell, that opens up our search area." He sounded defeated, and slightly aggravated at the situation.

Rick furrowed his brow, "No signs of her anywhere?" If Sophia had been here and retrieved by Hershel, Daryl would certainly be able to pick out her foot prints as they led away from the area...along with Hershel's or Jimmy's. The fact that there was no sign of her anywhere meant that she might still be alive, like Daryl seemed to think.

Daryl squinted back at Rick, seeming to try to figure out his motive, then let out an aggravated sigh as he shrugged and returned to searching the ground. He walked along the edge of the mud bank, stopping suddenly and squatting lower to examine something. Rick joined him, trying to determine what the tracker had found.

Daryl pointed to the outline of a shoe print, "That's not a walker print. That's a grown ass man." He kept looking, "A couple of 'em. Alive as you and me. Looks like they're walking with a walker. What the hell?"

Rick suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 'Guess the cat's about to be let out of the bag,' he thought. He only hoped he could keep Daryl from repeating Shane's actions this time around. Rick grimaced and stood to follow Daryl, knowing already where the trail would lead.

It didn't take long for them to arrive back at Hershel's farm; the trail led them to the back of the barn. Rick could see the look of outrage on Daryl's face. "Oh, son of a bitch. You gotta be kiddin' me." The redneck took several angry strides toward the barn door and peered between the slats. He jumped back abruptly. "Shit! Damn thing's full o' walkers!" he growled.

Rick joined him at the barn, his hands on his hips, focusing on the ground. He had to play this off just right so Daryl wouldn't know that he'd already known that fact. "I'll handle this."

"You'll handle this?" Daryl got defensive. "What the hell does that mean? We gotta take these bastards out!"

Rick raised a hand, trying to keep Daryl from causing too much of a commotion. "I know, I know, but it's Hershel's farm, his barn. We can't just open fire on 'em. He took us in when he didn't have to; we owe him at least a conversation." He kept his eyes locked on Daryl; the redneck regarded him, letting the words sink in, before eventually nodding his agreement.

"Let's go then. Not gonna wait for the damn things to get loose."

They started walking toward the front of the house. The whole time, Rick could only wonder: if Hershel hadn't brought Sophia back, whether a walker or not, where the hell was she?