Notes: Thank you for the reviews. I definitely do plan to get more into River's background as time goes on.

Another short chapter. That said, I've got another one half-written already ;)

Chapter 12: Holes

When the rescue party had gone to get Glenn back they had relegated the quick-tempered River to watch duty with T-Dog. It turned out to be a good thing too. Those Vatos punks had turned out to be a good bunch of guys taking care of the abandoned nursing home residents. After giving them some guns to help defend against raiders the group of Atlanta Camp survivors made their way back to the van.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked shaking his head, crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"We left it right there," Glenn insisted. "Who would take it?"

Rick dropped his head and spoke in a low tone. "Merle."

"He's gonna be takin' some vengeance back t' camp," Daryl warned. A world of trouble was about to be unleashed on the camp when he got back, if he wasn't already there.

They came from two different worlds. Amy, bright eyed and buoyant, longed for the bright lights and the hustle-bustle of the city. She missed texting and hanging out with her friends, gossiping about the latest celebrity news. Jason preferred the quiet life: surrounded by the wilderness and living off the land. He saw little use for the technology that she had relied on. If it hadn't been for the end of the world their paths would never have crossed.

"So, what was it like living up in Fort Nelson?" Amy asked curiously as she leaned down. Standing back up she had a delicate, white wildflower in her hand. She stuck it in her hair behind her ear and smiled sweetly at Jason, giving him time to sort out his words. She was so patient with him.

Jason shrugged. "Simple," he said truthfully. "Cold."

Amy scrunched up her face. "You didn't like, live in igloos, did you?"

Jason laughed. Surprisingly, it wasn't the first time in his life he'd been asked that. "I used to," he teased. "It's such a pain though when your house m-melts every summer." It was nice that he was starting to feel comfortable with her. It was nice to be able to talk to and joke with her the way he did with Dane and River. It was nice to be able to be himself.

Playfully Amy punched Jason in the shoulder. "You are such a dork," she snorted between laughs. A hand came up to her mouth embarrassed by the noise that had escaped her.

"I'm a dork?" Jason asked eyes wide, pointing at himself questioningly. "I'm not the one who thinks all Canadians live in igloos."

"Not all Canadians," Amy corrected trying to hold back a fit of giggles. "Just dorky trappers from Fort Nelson." Both of them collapsed into laughter. At the rate they we collecting firewood the camp would be awfully cold tonight. The stick that Liam was packing around hoping for someone to throw was all they had, but they didn't care. They were having fun and enjoying each other's company.

The highway seemed to stretch out forever. It was a long run out of Atlanta for the rescue party. Time was of the essence. Merle had the van and chances are he'd already made it back. They couldn't outrun the vehicle. But every second they wasted put the people they cared about at risk as the camp bore the brunt of Dixon's wrath.

The they heard the screams. "Was that...?" T-Dog trailed off, unable to finish the question.

"It was," Rick said solemnly as he took off in the direction of camp. Everyone else was straight on his heels.

When they'd reached the camp it wasn't Merle Dixon's wrath they had to worry about. It was a full-on Walker invasion. Each man and woman stepped up to the plate. Bullets were flying. Shovels were swinging. Bodies were dropping.

River and Dane stood side by side, their rifles raised. It allowed them to divide the area they needed to cover in half without needing to discuss or worry about what the other was doing. They were covering ground and dropping Walkers in the same style as they covered the skies and dropped waterfowl. Except that there were two instead of three. Jason was across the camp with his shotgun placing slugs into the Walkers' brains.

Daryl felt something whiz by his head. Alarmed he looked up and saw River pointing her rifle in his direction. "Ya wanna watch where yer shootin'?"

"I am," River retorted. "You may want to watch your back."

Daryl turned around and saw a Walker laying only a few feet away from him. With all the noise and commotion he hadn't heard it sneaking up behind him. A perfect little bullet hole lay square between its eyes. Maybe the girl wasn't a bad shot after all. Else she was just lucky, in which case so was he that it wasn't his head that hole was in.

Daryl turned back and nodded to her in thanks before taking down another Walker. Then, as the last Walker fell, so did the silence. It was over. Except, it was only the beginning, they realized as they all looked around and searched for their loved ones.

Rick looked around wildly for Lori and Carl. Upon spotting them he collapsed to his knees and took Carl into his arms. Carrying his son he made his way to his shell-shocked wife and they held each other tight. Relief swept over him. His family was safe. Morales too took his family in his arms, unharmed. Carol found Sophia. Dane found Jason, and the two brothers found River. None of them were bit or scratched.

Daryl had no one to take into his arms. He had no one searching to make sure he was alright, and no one to search for. Seeing the others made him painfully aware of this fact. Ain't no one gonna care about you, little brother. Merle may not be there, but his voice was never absent from Daryl's head. No one 'cept me. Merle was all Daryl had ever had. Without him he was completely and utterly alone.

"Don't need no one anyhow," Daryl muttered to himself. He was a Dixon, and Dixons took care of themselves. River glanced over, glad to see her favorite redneck was still in one piece. Not that she'd had any doubt. He didn't see the small smile she gave him.

"Where's Liam?" River asked Jason once she was certain both Jackson brothers were uninjured.

Jason spun around. "He was right here," he said. The dog was gone and he had no idea where he was now.

"Liam!" River hollered. "Liam!" The dog didn't come. Desperately she continued to call his name as she searched for him. When he still didn't show himself she became frantic, digging through the piles of Walker corpses looking for any sign.

"Tom," Dane said as softly as he could while still getting her attention. "Maybe he got scared and ran off..."

"I have to find him," River sobbed.

Dane grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. "We'll look for Liam in the morning," he offered. "It's too dark. We'll never find him like this."

"Let me go!" River wrenched free of his grip and continued her frantic search. "Liam! Liam!"

"Tom, you need to stop." River didn't hear him.

"Oh my God," Jason's eyes settled on Andrea kneeling on the ground next to a body. His heart sank. "Amy." It couldn't be. Merely hours ago they were laughing and joking while they packed firewood back to camp.

Andrea was cradling her younger sister's bloody body, crying her name over and over. Everyone else, holding their loved ones in their arms, turned sadly to the sight. It was to be Amy's birthday tomorrow. The first one that Andrea had actually been there for in much too long. Now she was dead.

"I remember my dream now," Jim said as he surveyed the scene. "I remember why I dug all those holes."