Author's note:

I've been sick this last week... anyway, Happy New Year!

Enjoy the new chapter *coughs weakly*

CHAPTER 21

Roughly 5pm that day...

As Rick and Daryl had discussed, the group at camp were busy preparing for more long days on the road. Inventory was being taken inside the house, clothes were washed and repaired. Lori supervised inside, while outside Glenn and T-Dog packed the cars with their most important kit, ready for Rick's return... or any crisis they may face.

Daryl gnawed his lip worriedly as he bent to re-string his crossbow. He'd just taken out the third walker to have emerged from the trees since morning, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. When they'd first arrived, the place had been deserted, but already they somehow seemed drawn to the house. Must be smell, he mused to himself. Perhaps the walkers had extra-sensitive noses - all of their other senses seemed dull enough. It wasn't like they'd been making any noise.

Besides the walkers, there was something else that was bothering Daryl. More than anything, it was a feeling, an instinctive paranoia, that something bad was going to happen. It was like an itch in the back of his mind, telling him they should be on the move again.

Crossbow primed, Daryl hefted it to shoulder-height and resumed his patrol. He'd taken over from Carl, who he'd instructed to watch the back of the house from the second storey instead (much to Carl's disappointment). He was the man in charge in camp, but also their best defence. He maintained the same distance around the house, never straying more than 50 metres away. He needed to be within earshot of the group, but also far enough to watch for imminent danger.

They needed supplies, they needed fresh food - meat, for some real energy, but he didn't have the time now to hunt. And they needed firewood, and water... there was a creek nearby, but it wasn't close enough for people to go to and fro from in safety. After they'd gone down in a group that morning to fill containers, he'd told everyone to stick to camp and make do with what they had. In his opinion, this camp was a dead end, and if he had his way they'd be leaving it as soon as they were able. He hoped Rick and Sarah would have luck and find some gas, and return soon.

Daryl felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and turned to look behind him sharply. He had good instincts, and this unsettling feeling that he was being watched persisted, though he saw nothing. He turned and walked slowly back the way he'd come, towards the road, watchful for anything out of the ordinary.

But the woods were quiet. Too quiet? It was hard to tell. He turned and headed back for the house, keeping the far trees near the road in his peripheral vision. There- a flash of movement!

He resisted the urge to turn and look directly in that direction, and instead continued back towards the house, as if nothing had alerted him. But inside, he was hyper-aware and extra tense - walkers didn't stalk their prey. Humans did.

Without showing the concern on his face, he got T-Dog and Glenn's attention and jerked his head towards the house. They followed him, concern etched on their faces. Once indoors, Daryl shut the front door, then called up to Carol, who he could see folding laundry at the top of the stairs.

"Carol, is everyone up there? No one's outside?"

Carol stiffened at the urgency in his voice. She dropped what she was doing and came forward, worried. Seeing Glenn and T-Dog, she nodded. "Everyone's here-"

"What's goin' on?" asked Glenn nervously. "Is it walkers?"

"Don' think so," said Daryl unhelpfully. He went over to the front window and peered around a curtain, careful not to disturb the material and betray their suspicion. Satisfied everyone was indoors, and not seeing anything moving outside - yet, at least - Daryl glanced back at the group. The others - Herschel, Lori, Carl, Maggie and Beth - had emerged to see what all the fuss was about.

"Well, what is it then?" asked T-Dog, annoyed, as Daryl resumed his vigil at the window.

Without turning, he replied almost absently, "We're bein' watched."

"What?" said Maggie sharply.

"Are you sure?" demanded Lori, at the same time.

Daryl nodded calmly. "I din' see who it was, but they're out there..." He looked like he was distracted, or didn't really care, but inside his mind was working at lightning speed, going through their options, considering each carefully.

The others were, predictably, not taking this latest development well. Lori's eyes flew to Carl and she began lecturing him about staying close to her, while Herschel suggested in his calm way that they sit tight and see what happens. Glenn was unwilling to argue with the older man, but could foresee some complications...

"What if Rick and Sarah run into whoever it is on their way back?" he pointed out, "We need to know who it is."

"They could have this place surrounded by now." Added Carol fretfully.

"Or it could just be some loner peekin' through the trees?" joked T-Dog, sounding more hopeful than he felt.

"You want to take that chance?" Lori said, uptight as usual.

"We can't risk goin' out to meet them..." Herschel mused.

"Well, we can't just sit here." Lori said loudly.

Somehow, they all ended up looking towards Daryl. He crossed his arms. "Everyone stays in the house. Close the doors an' keep away from the windows." He said, quiet but firm. "I'm goin' out, see what I can see..." he saw Carol frown, about to argue, "No point panickin' over nuthin'." He said firmly. With an effort, Carol swallowed her arguments. The others fell silent, worried but accepting of his decision.

He picked up his crossbow again. "How's everyone on weapons?" he asked them.

Glenn spoke up "Everyone should have a weapon and ammo on them..." there were nods all around. "Rick put all the extras in a bag and stashed them under the truck." Glenn added.

Daryl nodded - he'd seen Rick doing that, and understood the reasoning. If walkers attacked in a large group, there may not be time to go to the house to get guns and ammo. With that in mind, it had made sense at the time to stash the extra guns behind the front wheel of the blue truck, which happened to stand furthest from the house, in the middle-ground between the house and the road beyond. That logic was working against them now, but at least they weren't entirely defenceless. If he could, he would try to get the weapons. But first he wanted to find out exactly who they were up against.

Without further ado, Daryl exited the house through the back door, and ran into the tree-line, using the woods as cover. He crept in a wide arc towards the road, towards where he had seen the flash of movement.

Eyes flicking over the ground, he read the signs of the watcher. Broken twigs, bruised green leaves, and clear imprints on boots in the soft ground - two men had watched from here. One had been smoking a cigarette; the ash was visible, and even a faint scent of smoke hung on the air. They must have just left.

Every nerve-end on high alert, Daryl stalked closer, treading lightly as only a hunter could, making barely a rustle even though there were dead leaves underfoot.

Soon, he heard hushed voices, and then, the watchers came within sight.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. It was the army group from before, armed to the teeth and gathered close in a loose group in front of their vehicles, half in the road, half off. A large black bag lay on the ground in the middle of the circle of men. Were they preparing to attack?

He sidled closer, to hear their conversation.

"... You think these people have somethin' t'do with Mason and his gang runnin' off?" one man with a pinched face, wearing a bandana, was speaking in a nasal voice. He was addressing a man Daryl immediately assumed was their leader; he was standing at the centre of the group, and the others were looking to him for instructions. Daryl judged him to be early fifties, but he was a powerfully built man, fit and lean, with grey, short-cropped hair and an arrogantly handsome face.

"Almost certainly," he replied, voice clipped and educated.

Another man, lanky and sallow-skinned, nodded sombrely. "That jeep didn't just appear from nowhere." He drawled slowly, "It's Mason alright. There's no one else around."

"We'll find out, one way or another," said their leader. He raised his gun meaningfully into the air. The tall man bent and unzipped the duffel bag, and started handing out assault rifles and other weapons to the others. Their intent was clear.

So leaving the jeep behind had turned out to be a bad idea, after all. It was a costly mistake on Rick's part. They had hidden the jeep off the side of the road, but evidently not well enough... now these guys had come looking for their comrades, and the first people they came across were immediate suspects.

Daryl felt a wave of white-hot anger sweeping through him - who the hell did they think they were? After everything his group had gone through, now they'd be shot to bits by some trigger-happy military assholes?

So what now? He had to warn the group, form a strategy...

Even as Daryl was turning all of this in his mind, he was backing away carefully, cautious of being seen or heard. Suddenly, in his peripheral vision, he saw a flash of movement - someone was coming through the trees towards him!

The man, evidently a scout for the larger group, was just as taken aback as Daryl as they abruptly came face-to-face. The man froze, surprise etched on his face, and opened his mouth to call a warning to his group.

But even though Daryl had just as little time to react as the other man, his reflexes were faster. In one fluid movement, he raised his already-loaded crossbow to his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The man dropped to the ground, clawing at the bolt which had suddenly sprouted from his throat.

Daryl didn't give himself time to think about the murder he'd just committed. Though the kill had been virtually silent, he was metres away from the other men. Mouth dry, heart hammering, he set off at a fast half-run, weaving through the trees, heading back towards the house.

Behind him, he heard raised voices as his handiwork was quickly discovered.

He skidded to a halt at the edge of the trees - across a short expanse of open ground, was the blue truck, and the concealed weapons. He had no doubt they'd need it now. He hesitated- should he risk going for it? He'd be horribly exposed.

Even as he considered making the dash, he was answered almost instantaneously. Gunfire erupted behind him - he dropped into a low crouch as a wild spray of bullets ripped through the foliage around him. Not knowing where the enemy was, the men were shooting randomly in the hopes of hitting something.

This was stupid on a whole other level. Now even if they survived an attack from humans, walkers would be drawn to this place for miles around from the noise.

He cursed, and checked how much ammo he had for his gun. Not enough - but maybe he could give the others time to get away... Rick had told him they had to leave if something happened. But how far could they get, on foot and in the dark? It seemed he had another big decision to make.

Glenn and the others were waiting for him with anxious expressions as he arrived back, panting. "Everyone back from the windows!" he snapped. He got them all into the kitchen, which was the room furthest from the front of the house. He yanked Carol, who was last through the doorway, to the side, out of direct line from the windows. Seconds later, glass shattered as a rattle of gunfire raked across the facade of the house, prompting muffled screams from Beth and Maggie. He glanced around quickly - they were all there.

"Daryl, who-" Glenn started asking loudly.

"Bunch o' army assholes, same ones we saw yesterday," explained Daryl rapidly. "Not sure what they want, but it sure ain't t'welcome us t'the neighbourhood." Everyone flinched as another round of bullets sprayed across the house.

"What are we waitin' for - we have to leave, now!" said T-Dog urgently.

Glenn shook his head. "It's crawling with walkers out there... it's almost dark," he said, "We wouldn't make it far on foot."

Daryl nodded, impressed by his logic. It was the same conclusion he'd come to.

"If we can hold them off for a while," said Maggie desperately, looking from Glenn to the others, "Maybe Rick and Sarah will get back... or if there are walkers- we'll be safer in here?"

Glenn nodded eagerly, "Then I'll go upstairs, see if I can pick some of 'em off." He glanced at Daryl, who gave a ghost of a nod. Glenn turned to T-Dog, "T, you with me?"

T-Dog rubbed his face, "Oh, man..." he shook his head, but then said, "Yeah... yeah, let's just do it."

Maggie stepped forward with a mulish expression. "I'm coming up too." She announced. Glenn frowned and began to argue.

Leaving them to it, Daryl collected Carol's extra ammo without speaking, and made for the back door again.

"What are you going to do?" called Herschel, watching the younger man anxiously.

Daryl glanced back and shrugged. "Someone's gotta make sure they don't come 'round this side. I'll keep 'em from surroundin' us." With that, he closed the door behind him with a decisive snap.

Meanwhile...

Sarah and Rick were crouched in the tree-line, conferring in whispers what their options were, as they watched the larger group of men approaching the house cautiously.

The house seemed quiet now, but Rick and Sarah had arrived in time to see the muzzle-flashes from the top windows of the house as their people returned fire, picking their shots. Each time they fired, the military guys below would pepper the upper storeys with gunfire. They had ammunition to burn and they weren't skimping.

Rick wasn't sure what had happened, or if everyone was safe inside the house, but he knew at least some of them were. And he also knew that they were pinned down.

"Weapons?" Sarah asked.

"Half in the house, but some hidden under the truck." Answered Rick grimly. "We'll have a chance if we can get to 'em..." he bit his lip, weighing up options.

"You go for it, I'll distract them from here," Sarah offered.

Rick hesitated, but he knew it was the only plan they had. Their only hope against superior numbers and firepower was the element of surprise. But he also knew it may mean sending her to an early death. The group was approaching the house - there were about twenty men in total. They were using two of their own vehicles to get closer, hanging out the sides of the cars to fire, then ducking back inside as Rick's group retaliated. The two cars came to a halt just in front of Rick's red hatchback. It was parked directly in front of the house, parallel to the face of the house. The blue truck was a little further off to the side. Some of the men jumped out of their vehicles and crouched behind the red hatchback, using it as cover, while the others turned to watch the trees for any signs of movement. It was getting dark fast now, but even so... It would be impossible to get to the blue truck without being seen. Unless there was a significant distraction, and whoever made the dash was very quick.

"Go - I won't be fast enough." She argued, nodding at her knee. The joint was inflamed and painful from the day's walking.

He looked at her face, pale but determined. She wasn't afraid. He nodded slowly, and took her arm. He compared the time on her scratched watch to the time on his. "Wait five minutes," he said, "Then I'll be in place. Keep firin' until you have nothing left, and then run for it - I'll cover you."

Sarah nodded, jaw clenched. "Don't be late." She said, not sounding quite as confident as she would have liked. But she'd made a promise to herself that she would stick with this group. For better... or worse.

Rick squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, giving her a tight smile. She suddenly looked very young and alone, but he couldn't afford to go soft now. After one last look, he left her, moving quickly through the woods in a broad arc which would take him around the back of the house, to the other side of the clearing, where he'd be able to make a dash for the truck.

Sarah, one eye on her watch, crept closer through the trees towards the men.

She drew her handgun and checked the clip, movements slow to avoid making noise. She had ten rounds, and a box half-full of ammo in her pocket. She switched the safety off, and waited, back pressed up against a broad tree. She watched the two groups exchanging fire, wincing every time the enemy fired on the front of the house. It must feel like a warzone in there. Good thing the house was made of brick, not wood, like most houses in Georgia seemed to be.

She shifted, watching the seconds tick down to the 5 minute mark, hopefully giving Rick enough time to get in place on the other side of the house. He would be exposed in the short dash to the vehicles, but once he was there he would be out of sight of the men on the driveway, but within sight of the windows of the house. Hopefully the rest of the group were watching, and still had some ammo to cover him. Then they could attack from three sides, and hopefully drive them off for good.

Ten... nine... eight...

Surely Rick must be in place by now? Sarah took three deep breaths, willing the tremors in her hands to quiet. She stepped around the tree, swinging her gun up to shoulder-height as she did so, and opened fire, picking her shots to draw the most attention from the men around the vehicles, forcing them to duck. She fired until there were no rounds left, then ducked back behind the tree, reloading as quickly as she could.

She'd hit a couple of them, but also betrayed her position. She could hear the shouts of the men as they turned towards this new threat. Leaves and dirt kicked up around her hiding spot as they fired back. She waited for a gap in the firing, then swung out again, firing until she'd emptied her clip.

Now she had nothing left to defend herself. If the plan had worked, Rick should already have the bag of weapons, and in the next few seconds, surely, he would open fire, giving her a chance to escape...

She really hoped Rick wasn't delayed.