Chapter Fourteen

All around them the night was still, except for the voices of those who survived the attack, calling out to each other and crying at their collective loss. The camp lay in ruins. The bodies of the fallen camp members were almost indistinguishable from the bodies of walkers. They were heaped together where they fell. Tents were shredded from where the walkers had clawed through the fabric to get at the people inside. Several of the vehicles now bore bloodied smears from the walkers pressing their bodies against them. In the background, a few flames were still flickering as if nothing had happened. All the chairs that they were sitting in were now abandoned or toppled over. Some of them were leaning dangerously close to the flames.

T-Dog leaned down and picked up one of the chairs to keep it from lighting aflame. "Was that the last of them?"

Shane swung his rifle from right to left, still completely on edge. "Does anyone see any more? I don't see any more."

"Who made it?" Glenn spoke-up, halting his pacing to stare nervously into the darkness around the camp.

Behind her and Daryl, Claire scrambled out of the car. The teenager stood beside them swaying just a little on her feet, staring blankly at Andrea and Amy beside the camper. "Amy?" She whispered.

Daryl's arm tightened around Grace. "She's gone, kid." He mumbled, lifting one hand as if he wanted to comfort Claire as well, but after a pause he brought it around Grace again instead. Grace pushed herself a little closer to Daryl, desperately needing the body contact.

A low groan broke through the silence of the survivors and one of the corpses on the ground began to move. "Fuckin' hell!" Merle snarled. He quickly freed an ax from where it was embedded one of the logs Shane used for splitting wood, and swung it down on the body. The wet slurp and crack of splintering bone brought an end to the animal sounds the walker had been making. "Told you people I needed a gun. Musta missed the brain," he muttered. "Jesus Christ, bodies fuckin' e'erywhere. It's too damn dark to clean 'em up tonight."

"Everyone sleeps in the vehicles tonight." Rick nodded, looking around to the few survivors. "Pull them as close together as we can get so we don't have as big an area to watch. We don't need to lose anyone else tonight..." He trailed off.

"Sorta like you lost me up there on that roof?" Merle sneered, kicking the body at his feet.

Rick glared at Merle but didn't respond to his comment. Instead, he continued to address the group at large. "No one goes anywhere without a weapon of some sort, but I don't think we should just be passing out guns willy-nilly. We sleep tonight and deal with this mess in the morning."

"What if there are more? How are we supposed to sleep?" Lori stood in the doorway of the RV, staring down her husband. "You don't honestly expect us to sleep."

"Lori, settle down. You're going to get Carl worked up." Rick sighed. "We'll just have to do our best to stay in sight of the camp and not go wandering off on our own."

"I'll stay up. Stand guard." Shane offered. "Probably won't sleep much even if I tried." His gaze didn't move from Lori and she shifted uncomfortably.

"You took watch last night." Grace interrupted. "How much did you sleep then?"

"I took over around two," Dale added, "but you were back by 5:30. You need to get some rest."

Shane glared. "That's none of your business."

"Is that true?" Rick looked at his friend with concern. "Get some rest, Shane. We'll take shifts sleeping."

"Can I have a gun now, Officer Friendly?" Merle was smirking. "Have ta be able to protect myself, don't I?"

Everyone turned to look at Merle who was leaning on the ax, his expression smug.

"No." Rick answered bluntly and turned back to the group.

Merle faltered. "No?"

"You heard me. I don't need to worry about you trying to kill us all in our sleep."

The older Dixon brother lifted the ax. "Let's get this right. Whole damn camp just got attacked and I ain't allowed to carry a weapon?"

"I'd rather face a walker."

"Fuck you, Grimes."

"Merle," Grace stepped forward. "Settle. We don't want any more trouble."

Merle wasn't listening though. His grip on the ax was firm as he lumbered forward shoving Grace out of the way. "I oughtta..."

The sound of a gun cocking halted his approach toward Rick. Shane stood with his rifle pointed straight at Merle with not a single shred of worry on his face. His features were set in a calm mask. "One more step and I end you."

Daryl lurched forward and Grace stopped him. "He's got to figure it out one way or another."

Merle opened his mouth to say something and then swayed unsteadily on his feet. In the slowly fading light from the fire Grace noticed how rough he looked. In the confusion of the evening she had almost totally forgotten that he had spent close to twenty-four hours on that roof.

"I'm gonna smash in yer face, pretty boy." Merle tried to look menacing but he stumbled.

"Has anyone gotten him some water?" Grace asked out loud only to be met with silence. She sighed and cast her eyes around the people that had gone to Atlanta finally stopping on Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. "He drank some when we first found him. Dunno since."

"Merle," Grace spoke sharply and the man twitched, swinging his head to face her. "When was the last time you had something to drink?"

"You worried about me, Carter?"

"Shut-up and answer the question."

"I'm fine." He insisted, rubbing his sweat-soaked hair with his hand. It wasn't until then that Grace caught sight of the blue bandana wrapped tightly around his wrist.

Grace took a step closer and Merle backed away from her. Still not sure of what was happening Shane kept the gun trained on them until Rick reached up a hand and lowered it. "What happened to your wrist, Merle."

"Told you I was fuckin' fine." He snapped at her, eyes wild.

"You don't exactly look it." She scoffed, taking a step closer. This time he didn't back away from her and she got a much better look. "Shit you're messed up." Up close his sunburn was not pretty. He had probably managed to get some shade for part of the day but the combination of sun and heat had done a number on him. "How about you beat the crap out of Shane later and we get you some water."

For a moment it looked like Merle was going to protest but Daryl caught him under the arm and between Daryl supporting him and Grace's gentle teasing to stop being such a pussy about it, they retreated back to the truck. Behind them, Grace heard Rick beginning to divide up sleeping places and setting up who would take watch.

"We'll get you taken care of and then we'll move the truck over." Grace told Merle.

Merle mumbled, "Ya ain't gotta be so fuckin' worried 'bout me," but Grace just shrugged it off.

She dropped the tailgate and pointed to it. "Up."

"Fine. Jesus, woman, yer bossy!"

There wasn't time to argue with him, so Grace simply ignored his attempts to get her going and sent Daryl for a bucket of fresh water, a mixing bowl, salt, vinegar, clean towels, fresh clothes for Merle, and the food she had tucked away for them in the RV. With Merle settled and Daryl collecting the things she wanted, Grace got the solar lamp and hung it from the roof of the truck so she could see better.

"Shirt off," she instructed.

Merle leered as best he could. "That why you sent Daryl away? Wanted to get me nekkid."

It was difficult to take him serious with his words all slurred together the way they were. "Ease up, Merle. We've just got to get you taken care of. I don't have time for you to be a pervert." His eyes narrowed and he shrugged his vest down his shoulders, tossing it to the side. The shirt gave him a little more trouble. She could tell he was struggling with the buttons; his right hand clumsy, fingers swollen. Without a word between them, she helped him take the shirt off completely. He crossed his arms when they finished and Grace had to persuade him to let her see his injury. "Give me your hand." Stubbornly he held out his left hand and Grace rolled her eyes. "The other one, smarty-pants."

Reluctantly Merle held out the wrist wrapped in the bandana and Grace carefully peeled back the makeshift bandage. It was crusted with dried blood, sweat, and dirt. When she dropped it on the tailgate, it held the half curved shape of his wrist. The skin underneath was hot to the touch and already smelled faintly of infection. Encircling his wrist was a thick band of raw skin where the handcuffs had been rubbed in his attempts to free himself and in several places, the skins was broken open. The most troubling part of the site though, was the deep gash on his wrist directly under his thumb, which had cracked open again when the bandage was removed and was trickling blood. They probably hadn't been able to make much of an attempt to clean it because everything about his arm was filthy.

Merle sucked in air through his teeth as she tried to turn the arm to get a better look. "Watch it."

"What the hell happened?"

He looked away but Grace managed to catch his eyes. "Mosta that's from the cuffs." He insisted.

Grace shook her head. "And this right here." She hovered her index finger over the gash.

"I couldn't get the cuffs off. Wasn't gonna stay up there so I had ta do somethin'."

She stared down at the gash trying to figure out if Merle was saying what she thought he was saying. "You didn't?"

"Hacksaw wouldn't cut through the metal." He nodded. "Too dull."

"So you tried to cut your hand off."

The man simply shrugged as if he didn't realize just how disturbing the thought of someone cutting off their own hand was. "Gave up when I figured out nothin' could get through the door. Woulda been cuttin' a whole lot faster if I had more in my system. Guess I oughtta thank ya fer takin' my stash."

Had she not have taken the drugs from Merle, they would be deal with blood loss and an amputation on top of the other problems that Merle was suffering from. How would he have managed to not die of blood loss? Where would he have gone? How could he live in a world where he needed to defend himself at every turn if he had a missing limb? He really could have died. The thought of Daryl returning to save his brother and instead finding only a hand made her stomach turn.

"Mind givin' me it back."

"What?" Grace looked up suddenly, she'd been so lost in pondering Merle's imminent doom that she forgot he was right in front of her, waiting to be taken care of.

He narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly, "I want my stash back, Gracie."

Grace swallowed. The stash. The one she had dumped out, washed away, and buried. He couldn't have that back. What was left was safely tucked away in the RV where Merle would be noticed if he went after it. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

"Awww, come on." He whined. "It's been days, woman. Need somethin' ta take the edge off." Merle Dixon, whining like a spoiled child. He must have been really desperate and it was only going to get worse when there really was nothing for him to take.

"Ya don't need nothin', Merle." Daryl carried the armload of supplies towards the truck. His voice was almost menacing but there was a lighter, more soothing edge to it. He was worried about Merle. "Ya can have a smoke when Grace gets done with you."

"Fuck you," Merle snarled. "I ain't no kid you gotta give a lolly to if I behave myself for the nurse."

Grace rested her hand on his forearm, feeling the skin jump under it. Everything about Merle was tense and hot to the touch right then. He must have felt like shit. If she had a thermometer she would check to be sure he was running a fever but she didn't and, more to the point, she couldn't see Merle holding something under his tongue. "Drink and then we'll talk." She passed Merle one of the three water bottles Daryl had brought with him.. They were resealed and slightly off coloured from being quarry water, but they always boiled it first so it was safe to consume. When Merle finished half of the bottle, she told him to strip down to his underwear. Daryl just rolled his eyes when Merle tried another crude joke. It was late and they all just wanted to go to bed but Merle needed to be washed up and treated before she could leave him on his own for the night.

His hair was plastered to his skull, the sweat had run tracks down the dirt that covered his body, and his skin radiated heat. The pills she had were nowhere near as strong as Merle's but she pulled out the bottle anyway. The remains of Merle's stash were safely tucked away and in his condition she didn't want him knowing where. She shook a couple of the white pills out onto her palm and held them out to him.

"What're those?"

Daryl snorted. "Never heard you say that before."

"Just take them." Grace insisted and he rattled them around in his meaty paw for a minute before throwing his head back and swallowing. He chased them with what was left in the nearly empty bottle in his hand. "Now let's get you washed off." Daryl watched out of the corner of his eye, the plate on his lap half-eaten, as Grace helped Merle get cleaned up, and tossed him a towel to dry off. His boxers were soaked from the sponge bath and he stripped out of them giving her a smirk. She reached into the pile of clothes Daryl had brought back for him and held out a fresh pair.

"Yer no fun, Gracie. Not even a blink." He shook his hips at her and Grace watched Daryl tense.

She just shrugged. "I've seen far more impressive." Grace suggestively tipped her head toward his brother and Merle laughed. Daryl hung his head as his cheeks turned pink but Grace saw the small smile dance across his lips before his face dropped out of view. She gave the boxers another shake in Merle's direction. "Put them on."

"Fine," he grunted, snatching them from her hand and tugging them up over his hips.

While he was putting on the underwear, she mixed a handful of salt into a bucket of water. The first aid kit had moved to the back of the truck when she started treating Rick's wound so she pulled that out as well. Taking the injured arm, carefully she set his hand on her knee and grabbed a clean rag from the pile. She washed the area with salt water before she ripped open an antiseptic cloth and wiped the area down with that. Merle's fingers danced against her as she worked. Every movement she made sent him twitching, though he tried not to show it. With the area cleaned, she covered the whole thing in Neosporin, then wrapped his wrist in gauze, before tying the ends into place.

The wrist treated, Grace held out a second water bottle. "You've got to drink some more. I want to make sure you're well hydrated."

The man in front of her sighed but took the bottle anyway, drinking a healthy swallow. The sunburn was harder to treat. It looked better with the dirt off it, but without the layer of dust covering his skin, his skin also looked brighter. He needed something to treat the burns, but most of the lamps had been turned off save for the one Shane and Dale were using on top of the RV, so Grace assumed everyone else was sleeping. She would ask around tomorrow to see if anyone had something, like aloe, to properly treat the sunburn. Once more, she checked to see if there were any open blisters but found none. It was a blessing that Merle was already well tanned from having spent so much time in the sun. The sunburn would have been a lot worse on someone paler like Andrea or even Glenn - someone whose skin wasn't used to the sun beating down on them.

Since there was no open skin, Grace rubbed down the sunburn with vinegar, which Merle complained about but Grace knew would make it feel better in the long run. She wouldn't have tried it if there was open skin, but it did provide some relief because the skin wasn't broken. She made him finish the rest of the bottled water after pulling on a clean pair of jeans. Daryl had finished eating his supper and gave Grace a quick kiss on the cheek as thanks before getting her to pack up everything she had used to treat Merle and parking the truck into place.

Grace and Daryl crawled into the back of the truck while Merle settled into the cab with his dinner. Though both men insisted it wasn't needed, Grace opened the small window between the two so she could keep an ear out for Merle during the night.

"Where're ya goin', Gracie?"

The voice startled her when she opened the back of the truck, not expecting someone to be sitting at their small fire pit, waiting for her to leave the truck. Daryl was gone. She'd been startled at first to wake-up alone, but not overly surprised. He had slept restlessly all night, tossing and turning. Grace was sure his mind was running on overdrive and he just wanted to be away from everyone for a while. "Hello Merle."

"Asked ya where ya was goin'."

"I've got to pee. Surely that's allowed?"

Merle chuckled from the back of the truck. "Go get Daryl. Not goin' nowhere by yerself and I ain't babysittin' you while you go find somewhere ta squat."

A month ago, he would have been asking to watch. "I'm not scared of you peeking. You've got more class than that."

Merle held up his hand and wiggled his little finger. "In the nail uh my pinky finger. I ain't some sort of pervert."

"Sure you aren't." Grace elbowed him jokingly when she pushed past him, climbing out of the truck. "Where is Daryl?"

The older Dixon smiled at the light jab. He seemed better after a full night's sleep, less shaky, but without a shirt she could see the thick red division between sun exposed skin and what had been hidden under his clothing. They'd need to get some aloe on it, it had to hurt like a bitch. "Gone somewhere with his bow an' arrows."

"So how exactly am I supposed to get him to come with me to go pee?"

Merle raised an eyebrow.

"Either I'm going by myself or you're coming with." Grace shrugged. "I've got a gun; you don't."

"Five minutes an' I'm comin' ta find ya." He grunted.

"I'll be back in four and then I'll check your wrist," she smiled. She wanted to get a better look in the daylight to see just what damage he'd done to himself. There hadn't been nearly enough light the night before. It was probably deep enough that she should have stitched it, but not knowing what exactly he'd gotten in there and how long it had been open, she'd just left it. "And don't go starting any fights. You're lucky that Rick is man enough to go back for your sorry ass."

Merle's angelic leer should have frightened her a lot more than it did.

No one but the children ate breakfast the next morning. All around them the bodies were already starting to ferment. Grace checked Rick's side before okaying him to work with firm instructions to keep the area clean of anything even vaguely related to the walkers.

"No heavy lifting." She said for the third time.

Rick shook his head. "We've got to get these bodies moved though."

Grace frowned, "Someone else can do it."

"I got it, man." Shane patted Rick's shoulder. "We don't need you putting yourself outta commission over this. There's plenty you can do to help."

"Mom!" Carl was whining. "I don't want to stay in the RV. I want to help."

Lori paced anxiously turning back and forth between her son and the corpses that littered the camp. They'd pulled the vehicles back as far as possible to give them lots of room to work, but it also meant that each mound of fabric and dead flesh was clearly visible. "You need to stay inside, Carl. I don't need to have to worry about you too."

Miranda stuck her head out of the RV. She and Claire already had Eliza, Louis, and Sophia inside. "Come on in Carl. There will be plenty to do later."

Carl looked disappointed but reluctantly went off into the RV. The Hispanic woman smiled gently at Lori over her shoulder as she pulled the door closed.

"Where do we even start?" Glenn looked around. "There's so many."

"We've gotta burn the bodies." Shane took off his ball cap and shook his hair out of his eyes. Already the sweat was beading on his forehead. It was going to be a scorcher.

The Korean looked around the camp once more and shook his head. "I don't think that's right. These people were our friends."

The officer snorted and dropped to one knee beside the body of a walker. His hands were already covered in work gloves so when he yanked a decomposing arm up it wasn't as gross as it could have been. With a wet pop the arm pulled free of the body. Even Shane jumped back a little of that but he held his own. "Was Corpse Bride here one of your friends?"

"She's lying on top of Andrew." Glenn pointed out the body beneath her.

Friendly, smiling Andrew who tried far too hard to be friends with everyone, even Daryl. Grace covered her hand with her mouth to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

The younger man's hands shook but he took another braver step forward. "Andrew who used to do card tricks and made you laugh."

"Whatever." Shane dropped the arm back onto the body. "We can't keep bodies laying around all day."

It was Rick who spoke up first. "We could bury them. You said Jim was digging holes yesterday." Rick glanced around camp looking for Jim. "Are they deep enough?"

Jim nodded slowly, "Should be. Don't exactly know if there are enough."

Shane looked between his best friend and the walker he called Corpse Bride. "Nuh-uh. No way am I taking the time to bury all these bastards. We are not responsible for burying all these... things."

"We are responsible for our own though." Rick shook his head. "We can bury them."

"And when they come back and decide to get bitey?"

THUD.

Daryl smirked when everyone jumped. He had swung a pickax down into the ground was now standing proudly at the edge of camp. "Take care uh 'em then. 'Fore somethin' goes worse 'en wrong."

"You're implying that we should start smashing in skulls." Shane rolled his eyes.

"Ain't so much implyin' as tellin'." He stormed over to one of the bodies and swung the ax down hard into the skull of one of the walkers that attacked camp, the spiked end cracking wetly into the brain cavity. "We oughta drag e'ery body we can find out here into this open space an' make sure none uh them is comin' back."

Lori covered her mouth with her hand, looking more grey than she had all morning. When she made a small retching sound, Shane looked at her concerned. "Mind havin' a little tact?"

"Why should he?" Grace asked. "So someone else can get bitten?"

Rick jumped in, not wanting to start another argument. "There's got to be some better way. We are not desecrating bodies."

Merle's laugh broke through the camp. He looked quite the sight: shirtless and sweating, his eyes wildly darting between the faces staring at him. Clearly he was enjoying himself as he openly reminded them what had been done. The red skin on his arms, neck, and face was a bright neon sign to remind everyone that he had been left on that roof, and the white wrapped around his wrist was a reminder of how it had happened. "When'd you get so concerned about bein' respectful, Grimes?"

"We can't act like animals. It's uncivilized going around smashing in skulls." The thought actually seemed to distress Rick more than the bodies lying haphazardly around camp; he wanted to remain a civilized society.

"What would you suggest then?"

"A clean shot through the brain? It's better than bludgeoning them."

The older Dixon rolled his eyes. "When my stupid baby brother's the smartest one out of all uh y'all somethin's damn wrong. None uh ya got a lick uh sense. Gun shots is only gonna attract more. Then we got a bigger problem on our hands. Can't leave 'em be 'cause then someone's gonna get bit for sure. Either gotta chop off the heads so we don't gotta worry about the bodies comin' at us or spike 'em one through the noggin'." He looked around, challenging anyone to say something different.

"Dixon's got a point." Dale murmured. "Maybe we should make sure they can't come back. After that we can bury our dead and burn the rest. There's nothing disrespectful about it. It's just common sense."

Merle nodded, eagerly. "See," he spat out.

"I'd prefer if we used Daryl's crossbow."

"Would take too long." Daryl mumbled. "Don't got all day."

"Jesus," Merle rolled his eyes. "If yer so damned worried about gettin' yer hands a little grubby, we'll do it. Daryl an' me will spike 'em all and you can sit there in yer little bubble an' cry 'bout how life ain't fair." He stormed over to the woodpile and freed the ax. As if to make a point, he picked a body lying on the ground and aimed, driving the ax hard into its skull. "One down." He snarled. "Someone get a fire goin' so we can take care uh this mess."

The flames were low, they didn't want the pile to get too high and out of control. They were lucky that there was a good breeze blowing and that they could set the fire downwind of camp. The bodies stunk. They were bad enough laying scattered across the camp, but in one concentrated pile of decomposing and burning flesh, it was an olfactory nightmare. Walkers smelled terrible to begin with. It was a smell that hung in the air long after they were moved. Even with the smoke and stench blowing away from the camp, Grace had come very close to throwing up and she wasn't the only one.

True to their word, the Dixon brothers calmly removed any threat of reanimation while the others looked on. It was fact that it needed to be done by someone but everyone else was too trapped in the old world to do anything about it. T-Dog and Morales moved the bodies. Jim walked around camp playing a sick game of hide and seek - trying to find all of the attack sites around camp. Glenn insisted he was the most accustomed to the smell and volunteered to tend the fire. Grace was surprised that Rick and Shane didn't jump to take charge of the clean-up crew. Rick had the charisma while Shane had the attitude, but when it came to actually doing what needed to be done, their leadership skills fell a little short. Both puttered around camp and offered a hand when it was needed, but the real and literal dirty work was done by the other men.

Dale was the exception. He spent the morning hovering near Andrea and trying to coax her away from her sister's body. Even Lori tried but nothing seemed to work.

"That's awful." Grace mumbled as she brought water around to the men. She had driven down to the quarry with Jacqui, and they two had brought water up in the gallon pails the way Shane did. They boiled it down by the water's edge before filling the water bottles and bringing them back to camp. They didn't want to risk anything from camp getting into the water.

Daryl pulled the glove off of one hand and took the bottle she offered him gratefully. "They should jus' move her. We're waitin' here for her to turn an' then what? We gotta put 'em both down? Fuckin' waste uh time."

"It's sick waiting like this." She nodded. Daryl passed her the empty bottle back and his fingers lasted just a little longer than was needed. She gave him a quick, smile.

"Grace?" Jim mumbled as he shifted from one foot to the other a short distance off. "Mind comin' to check on somethin' with me?"

Daryl shifted, nostrils flaring but Grace shook her head. "What's the matter, Jim?" She smiled, trying to reassure Daryl that it was alright.

"It's Carol. Ed was... well he's in the tent and I don't want to disturb her none." He shifted again looking over at Andrea, clearly worried that they would have another similar situation on their hands.

"Damn." Daryl muttered, his eyes dropping to his feet. He looked sideways under his lashes at Grace before considering her expression of determination and sighing. "I'll come with." He turned to his brother across camp, "I'm goin' with Grace for a bit. Don't pull nothin' while I'm gone."

"Hey, ain't I always on my bes' behaviour?" Merle grinned, pushing a body over to Morales and T-Dog with his boot. It had taken some arguing but Grace had convinced him to put on a long sleeved shirt to keep the sunburn from getting any worse.

"Drink something." She shouted at him but the request was light hearted. He'd been a good patient so far. She just hoped he would stay that way. He was Merle though and it probably would only last until his body sorted itself out.

Jim lead them over to the Peletier's area of camp. The stones of their fire pit were scattered and the front of the tent was ripped open. Carol sat in the one lawn chair that wasn't tipped over. Ed's feet stuck out of the ten, one of his legs picked nearly clean and the other bearing several large bites. Grace stepped around to catch a better look inside and covered her mouth with her hand. The last time she had seen Ed he was pretty beaten up by Shane, now he was half gone. The walkers had clearly taken advantage of his inability to fight back and used him as a living buffet. It was a horrific sight. Daryl stepped up behind her pressing one warm hand to the base of her spine in reassurance. Carol hadn't even looked up.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled through her tears and Daryl startled at the sound of Carol's voice. "We should never have stayed. He caused so much trouble."

"No, no, no!" Grace pulled away from Daryl and knelt beside Carol. "You're not to blame."

"I should have sent him away." She chuckled almost darkly. "I was so worried that he wouldn't make it on his own and now he's dead here." Her cheeks were dry but red rimmed and glassy. "Sophia doesn't even know. I think she suspects, but I didn't tell her."

"I'll come with you if you want. We'll tell her together." Grace offered.

Daryl shifted, he was even more uncomfortable than Jim but it was him that spoke up. "I'll move him."

Carol nodded slowly and stood up, letting Grace take her by the arm and lead her away from the mutilated remains of her late husband. They walked in silence to the rest of the group. Lori stood to greet them but Grace shook her head and the other woman sat back down. The four children were sitting in the back of the RV with the blinds drawn. Claire had taken over reading Watership Down and Miranda was mending one of Eliza's dresses which had caught on the woodpile.

"Carol," the Hispanic woman smiled up at them, "How are you doing?"

"Alright thank-you. I'd like a moment to speak with Sophia."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Go right ahead. She's your daughter after all."

"Right, of course." Carol nodded and the corner of her mouth twitched up for a second. "She's my daughter." She turned to the back of the RV and called to her daughter. "Sophia, come please. I need to talk with you."

Sophia looked torn between the story and her mother but did reluctantly get to her feet and creep forward. "Hello, Mama." The little girl chewed on her bottom lip.

"It's alright Sophia. You're not in any trouble." Grace reassured and Carol looked at her gratefully.

"We just need to have a talk."

"Is this about Daddy?" She whispered.

Her mother nodded but didn't comment. "Just come and sit with us up here a moment."

"Yes, Mama," Sophia whispered and obediently sat down in the passenger seat of the RV. Her mother took the driver's seat and Grace pulled the small curtain that separated the area from the main part of the RV. It didn't create a sound barrier but at least it did give the mother and daughter some privacy. Grace settled herself kneeling on the floor between the two. It was a tight squeeze but she managed it with limited discomfort.

"I don't know where to start." Carol whispered.

Grace's eyebrows furrowed, "Just start and we'll go from there."

Her hands rubbed together furiously but Carol sucked in a deep breath. "Sophia, we need to talk about something very important. Last night when... those monsters came into camp, God decided to take your Daddy up to heaven with him."

Sophia's eyes were swollen to the size of small dinner plates. "Is Daddy going to come back for us?"

"No, no, no! He's not coming back. We'll make sure of that. You don't need to worry."

"Okay." She nodded, thoughtfully.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Grace asked. "If you have any other questions you can ask your mom and me. We don't mind."

The little girl pinched her lips together and shook her head. "My daddy's dead but he's not going to come back. Carl wanted his daddy to come back but I don't. He'd be angry if he came back."

Carol sobbed at the honest words coming out of her daughter's mouth. Her eyes filled with tears and she choked back a sob. "I can't," she stuttered, "I need to go." Hurriedly, she pushed herself out of the chair and pushed past the curtain. Grace heard the door slam shut behind her as Carol rushed from the RV.

Sophia watched her retreating mother with a regretful look. She glanced at Grace as finally she began to sniffle. "It's alright!" Grace caught her quickly in a tight embrace. "Your mom's going to be fine. She just needs some time. It's hard when someone you love dies."

"She's sad." Sophia pulled back. "I made her sad. Daddy made Mama sad. She shouldn't be sad that he's gone because now we don't have to be scared." Conspiratorially, Sophia whispered in Grace's ear. "Mama said that God took Daddy to heaven. I don't think God would let him in." Her bottom lip trembled when Grace pulled back shocked. The two stared at each other for a moment before Grace recovered.

"Why do you say that, Sophia?"

"He only lets in good people. Daddy wasn't a good person. He was bad." She nodded as if the subject was final but her face dropped when Grace didn't answer her right away. "Please don't tell Mama I said that. She'll be sad. I don't want her to be sad anymore. Daddy made her cry. I don't want Mama to cry anymore"

Hurriedly, Grace rushed to reassure her, "It's alright to be mad, Sophia. It's alright to be sad though too. If you're sad about your dad then that's okay but if you don't want to then there's nothing wrong with that. You come to me if you need to talk about anything, okay?"

"Okay," She nodded. "Can I go listen to the story now?"

"Sure." Grace pulled back the curtain and Sophia scrambled out of the chair and rushed back toward the beds at the back of the RV. Miranda looked up when Sophia rushed past. Grace just stood leaning against the wall until Miranda came to join her.

"Are they alright?" She wondered. "Carol looked pretty upset."

"They'll work things out." Grace nodded. She didn't take her eyes off Sophia. The girl had curled in between Carl and Eliza on the bed. "Carol needs to grieve and Sophia will work things out. Children are very resilient."

When Grace exited the camper, she barely had a chance to move six feet before Lori had rushed over to her. "What did you say to Carol?"

"Whoa!" Grace raised her hands to ward off the verbal assault. "What are you talking about?"

Lori lowered her voice and hissed, "Your crazy boyfriend gave her a pickax and now she's smashing in her husband's skull. She's lost her mind!"

"I don't see where exactly you're going with this," Grace narrowed her eyes, "but if you're trying to say that Carol shouldn't be taking care of herself then I'm very confused."

"'Taking care of herself.' Is that what you call it?"

"Yup, I'm pretty sure that's what I just said."

"She's bludgeoning him. It's barbaric! It's, it's, it's craziness. She's got to be stopped. We can't mutilate bodies." Lori was getting herself worked up into a frenzy. Rick seemed distracted with talking to Dale but Shane caught sight of Lori freaking out and walked over calmly.

"Lori, what's happenin'?"

"Carol's lost her mind."

Shane looked bemused but when his eyes locked on Carol sweating and crying as she smashed the pickax down over and over his jaw went slack. "My God." He yanked off his ball cap and jerked his fingers through his hair. "There's no way..."

"Someone's got to do something to stop her." Lori stepped toward Shane, reaching to grab him but the man stepped away from her.

"Slow down there, Lori." He sidestepped her. "You need to think about what you're doing."

Lori froze stunned at Shane's rejection. She glanced over at Grace who focused her full attention on Carol instead. With the other woman pretending to not know what was going to happen, Lori hissed at Shane, "Don't bring that up."

"Why not?" Shane grunted back. "You want someone to fight with, Lori, then you go to Rick. I ain't here for that shit." He turned and stormed off.

Lori frowned, her bottom lip trembling, "Why is he always so cruel?"

"You don't exactly give him many options. I saw how you took off for the quarry yesterday." Grace took a step back when Lori glared at her and added. "Just think about it. He's been there for you and Carl since well before this. You can't just go to him when you want your own way."

The dark haired woman nodded. "This stays between us right?"

"You don't need to worry about me saying anything. It's not my place to judge anyone else's relationship."

"What about Carol?"

"She'll be fine. Just working out some tension. She needs to grieve in her own way."

"Jim's been bit." Rick came to Grace who was busy clearing out the back of the truck. They were going to leave and she knew it. Merle would start up again any moment now and this time if the group wasn't planning on moving with them, then she would leave with her boys. She knew more than now she needed to be able to depend on the people around her and trust in the area they were in. This camp wasn't safe anymore and she wouldn't spend another night there. Rick and Shane had already been arguing about if they should leave and where they would go if they did.

"Keep tellin' you that ain't her problem." Daryl's fists were clenched at his sides as he tried to hold in his frustration. "We oughta just put a bullet between his eyes and the girl's."

"He's not a rabid dog, Daryl. I keep telling you that. Grace is a nurse. Maybe she can keep him going until we get to the CDC. They could have a cure there."

Grace shook her head. "Rick, if there were a cure, don't you think someone would be out trying to find people to give it to them?"

"Maybe it doesn't work if you've already turned. Maybe you need to get it before you turn. I saw that helicopter. I'm telling you it was there, plain as day." Rick was practically pleading. "If we turn our backs on him now then where do we draw the line."

"The line's pretty clear." Daryl's body was tense. "Zero tolerance for walkers or them's to be."

"We can still make him comfortable."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak again but Grace jumped in before he could drag the argument further. "I'll try. I'll make him comfortable but I'm not making any promises. I can't do that. We don't know how long he has."

They'd moved the children to Rick and Lori's tent and set up Jim in the back of the RV where Rick thought he would be the most comfortable and the most easy to protect from any group members who wanted to speed up the process. Jacqui was at his bedside attempting to help him wash off with a bucket of water.

"Hey Grace. Don't think I need a doctor quite yet." Jim attempted a smile. "I feel fine other than the throbbing in my side."

Daryl snorted from his position leaning against the bathroom door. "You oughta be grateful she's here at all."

Jim's face fell, "I didn't mean nothing by it."

"It's alright," Grace assured him. "I don't mind at all. Daryl's just worried about what's going to happen... later."

"I just wanted to do my part before I couldn't. Y'all have been so good to me." The injured man's voice cracked as he broke into tears.

"Daryl, why don't you go finish burying the rest of the bodies." Grace dismissed him.

He hung back though, waiting for a sign that he should leave her on her own. "I don't know..."

"I'll be okay. I come see you once this is all taken care of. I won't stay long if you're so worried. There isn't much we can do any way."

Daryl set his mouth in a hard line and nodded. "Alright then but nothin' better go wrong." He left slowly, looking back over his shoulder reluctantly. Grace turned back to her patient when she heard the door latch.

"Shirt off." She instructed. "We'll try to clean the bite out as best as possible and get it wrapped. Maybe that will slow the infection from spreading." Just as she was finished putting the tape around Jim's bandages, a shot fired off outside. Jacqui sat up straight and Grace's head spun toward the sound.

"What's goin' on out there?" Jim slurred. Grace could already feel the heat beginning to come off of the man. His temperature was climbing out of control quickly.

"Go check, Jacqui." Grace insisted. "Did Andrea get bitten?"

Jacqui nodded, and rushed to the window. "I think she's alright." Jacqui planted her hands on the counter and leaned closer to the glass. "Dale's with her now. She's holding a gun. I think..." she seemed to struggle for the words. "I think she put Amy down herself."

Amy was the last body to go in the ground. Dale had brought out a white sheet and her sister wrapped her as gently as possible. Andrea insisted that she was able to do everything herself and for the most part everyone stepped back. She dragged the body to the back of her car and with very little help from Dale, lifted it in. As everyone else walked behind, Andrea drove her sister slowly up the hill toward the grave site. Rick was shovelling the last of the dirt out of Amy's grave when the car pulled in. Everyone had gathered around the graves and watched as Andrea struggled to pull her sister's shroud toward the hole.

"I can do it!" She shouted every time Dale reached out to help. Her white shirt was covered in blood and dirt. Grace struggled watching Andrea try to do it all on her own. Her arms crossed over her belly, remembering. She inhaled through her nose to try and fight the tears.

"Gracie, you good?" Merle glanced over. Grace nodded stiffly but didn't respond. The older Dixon took that as a sign that everything wasn't alright and elbowed Daryl hard in the ribs. "Put yer arm around her, asshole."

"Fuck off Merle." Daryl shifted away from his brother and looked down at Grace. "Come 'ere." He lifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling her into him. "Don't you worry none. We're good." He rested his face against her hair. "Ain't gonna leave you alone again."

"I want to leave." Grace choked out the words, finally choosing to side with the Dixons on leaving. "Even if they aren't coming with us, I don't think it's safe to stay here anymore."

This time it was Daryl to shake his head. "Not talkin' about it here. This ain't the place."

Beta Credit: Eloquent Dreams