Welcome back folks! I don't know about you guys, but I couldn't be more excited to finally have the Walking Dead back on. Finger's crossed that everyone's favorite character(s) make it out alive this season!

ripper34- *Hugs*

MaraDixen413- Always happy to hear from you! I hope you're still with me on this one and I'll get to work on the next chapter right away. *Types at lightning speed*

Musicrocksssss- I had to look up whump on fan-fiction vocabulary terms. Gotta say, I felt slightly evil after I found out what it meant lol. But yeah, there will very likely be more. After all, what would the Walking Dead be without it? Ah, but, for those who like some fluff... there will eventually be some happy moments. Maybe even a reunion... but I'm not saying anything more.

As always, and forever, hope you all enjoy!

Sam leaned against the wall surveying their surroundings as Carl handed over the crossbow he'd barely managed to catch in time. Carl had been accurate when he'd said there was smoke; it seemed to blanket the air around them. The extra cover could come in handy, but it also dampened their own visibility.

It almost scared her to know that she had been so intent on murdering another human being that she had missed the blast and quake of the explosion that had caused the Silent Hill-esque smog.

She should have felt relief at not having to face Gareth after all, but she didn't. Sam wanted to see him dead and, an immense part of her, wanted to be the one to make it happen. That desire raged within her every time she pictured his smug face. If they ever got out of there, maybe she'd keep an eye out for any surviving shrinks; she had a feeling she could use one.

Hi, I'm Samantha Clive and I've recently found myself harboring homicidal intent. While I realize this may not be the best possible time, I'd like to schedule an appointment to have my head examined at your earliest convenience. Do you take credit?

As Carl slipped under her arm she reigned in her fake introduction to her pretend therapist before she ended up making any more weird expressions. The last thing she wanted to do was give muscleman MacGyver the creeps any more than she already had. The man didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor and she was already pushing her luck with him.

Rather than give herself over to macabre fantasies, Sam did her best to support her own weight. It was a task that focused her attention. Thankfully, her head felt a little clearer than it had inside the building. Even tainted with the complex mixture of gases - which burned her throat every time she inhaled - the coolness of the outdoor air seemed to revive her somewhat. At least, she no longer felt like she was going to black out at any given second.

They moved slowly along the length of the building. She couldn't be absolutely sure, but she thought they were on the back-end of the grounds which likely explained why there didn't seem to be anyone around. She could see fairly well up to about six to eight feet around them, but then it got hazy. Until they got fairly close, they wouldn't be able to tell if they were facing a friend or a foe. Not that Sam would recognize which was which, not unless they were already partially decayed.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried or even a little scared of what was up ahead. In a strange way that she hadn't anticipated, being out in the open unsettled her. She couldn't remember if this was a normal feeling or something new. As they approached the end of the building she almost didn't want to go past it. So far they had avoided trouble, but if they rounded that corner, they would be throwing themselves into it. To her, the chain link fence on her left seemed much more inviting.

She'd have to climb it to get over, but there were no Terminus member's around to prevent her from doing so. Her own body was more of an obstacle than anything. Neither of the other two member's that made up their trio mentioned getting the hell out of there. They didn't give the fence even a sidelong glance. Sam had pretty much been shooting it a wistful gaze every three seconds like it was Owen Montgomery, her high school crush.

As Daryl held up a hand to them and rounded the corner, it was very clear to her that the object of their mission was not escape. She had pretty much figured, but she had hoped that she was wrong. Waiting for the green light did nothing to calm her nerves. The fear of being found, of being returned to Gareth, was squeezing her brain and turning it against her. Without the element of surprise, she wouldn't be able to kill him and she'd rather die on the spot than end up back in a cage.

If she just chalked her feet and refused to move, maybe they would get the hint that she absolutely didn't want to go any further. She might have done just that, if the idea of being abandoned and alone didn't terrify her just as much.

Calm down, she urged herself. If these were your people, you would stick it out to find them. Her bottom lip trembled as she thought of her own people who were beyond saving. Use your brain and assess the situation. Where are we? What's up ahead?

When she had entered Terminus with her original group, the front had been unexpectedly lively, like one of those commercials of smiling picnickers at a barbecue. It was a trap designed specifically to appear inviting and it had worked well. They'd immediately relaxed and, when they had let their guard down, they'd found themselves surrounded. The adults in her small group of five had been led away to one of the containers and she and Annabeth had been brought inside.

She couldn't recall the exact route they had taken, but the areas that they had passed with the most people seemed to be concentrated on the left part of the building. She herself had been forced to veer right and been led deeper into the building. The further they went the more numerous the empty rooms became until there was no one around at all and they had entered that place.

Using what she remembered, and filling in the gaps as best she could, her mind diagrammed a map of their current position. If she were right, and they were on the outside of the latter part of the building, they would be heading east. While she couldn't account for the dead, the area they were cautiously approaching, should be relatively clear of Terminus members. That was happy news for her, but not for a rescue mission. She doubted they would casually run into Carl's people in their current direction. They'd have to circle around.

She was still trying to get a grip on the map in her mind's eye when a figure tottered into her peripheral. She opened her mouth to bring attention to it, but couldn't make the words come out. There was nothing wrong with her vocal chords; that wasn't the issue. If she opened her mouth, pressed her tongue to its assigned places, and forced the words out, they would come. But her mind clamped them down on her tongue each time she tried.

It was purely psychological and that was the most aggravating part. Yet another thing to bring up to her future shrink. She looked to Carl to see if he had picked up on the threat, but he had his head down. As the Walker closed the gap between Sam and an unsuspecting Daryl, she was out of time to try and get his attention. With his back to the creature, Daryl was like the Walker equivalent of a deluxe burger with extra bacon and he was about five seconds away from being served.

In the split second that Sam had made up her mind on what to do, dead hands clutched at the material of his shirt. She pressed her feet hard against the ground, bent her knees, and catapulted herself at the decaying form. She felt her body jerk away from Carl's arm and heard the startled protest die in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Turning herself into a human cannonball had turned out to be a lot less graceful than Sam had anticipated. While she had meant to shove it away, her cockeyed aim had sent herself and the Walker smashing into the ground. In flight, Sam had managed to push the Walker down onto its back and had fallen right on top of it.

If this were one of those slightly inappropriate romance novels she'd read in secret, and she was lying on top of some hunk with a sensitive soul, she'd be overjoyed. In the current situation, though, she was a kiss away from having her face bitten off.

Thrown off balance from the Walker's grip tugging down on his shirt as Sam tackled it, Daryl went stumbling back. He narrowly avoided stepping on the bodies directly behind him. Sam was grateful he hadn't. She was already trying not to gag at the feel of rotting flesh giving way as her body sank into the Walker.

Any extra weight and she'd find herself totally immersed in its ribcage and, considering she was already too close to its teeth for comfort, she didn't want to get any closer. Plus, it was just gross.

The Walker's flesh-deprived jaw snapped wildly, just inches from her face as she craned her neck away, desperate to keep her nose intact. She needed her hands to push herself off of it, but they were otherwise engaged. Pressing down on the shoulders of the long dead man in an effort to keep him immobilized was proving to be the soul focus of her energy.

The adrenaline kick from her bumbling attack had pretty much died with the initial kick-off. There hadn't been much strength in her to begin with, but now her limbs were prickling with the onset of numbness. She couldn't hold her position much longer.

As her left hand slipped and her face lurched forward dangerously, an arrow, equally too close to her face for comfort, put an end to her losing battle. Her nose was literally half in the Walker's open mouth as its jaw slackened for the final time. She stared at the things clouded eyes as she pulled her nose out of its mouth. If the arrow had come a second later, it wouldn't have been on her face at all. Her stomach rolled at the thought.

Carl was next to her in seconds, helping her up. You're welcome, she thought hotly as the man recovered his arrow without so much as a nod her way. The rational part of her mind whispered that he'd saved her too. She told it to shut up.

The Walker she'd been on top of had been partially disemboweled before it had turned. She looked down, nose twitching and lip curling at the unpleasant sight. The T-shirt that barely covered her, but thankfully reached mid-thigh, was no longer the dirty white it had been. What was left of the Walker's entrails coated the entire front of it. Even worse, the borderline black mess of blood and goop had soaked through the cotton material.

She shuddered as it clung stickily to her chest and stomach, just don't think about it. Her nose twitched again. And, for God's sake, don't breathe through your nose!

She opened her mouth and took a quivering breath; she nearly heaved. Oh geez, it's like I can almost taste the smell. She promptly shut her mouth and resumed breathing through her nose, figuring it was the lesser of the two evils.

Never in her life had she longed for a shower as much as she did in that moment. Carl, bless him, didn't move from her side. He did, however, tilt his face away. She didn't blame him.

Daryl, who had been rattled by the close call, forced his face into something neutral. He didn't care that he'd almost been Walker chow, if he was foolish enough to get eaten by just one Walker then, in his opinion, he deserved it.

What he cared about was that he'd almost put Carl in danger with his own carelessness. If nothing else, he owed Rick the safe return of his only living child, even if it killed him in the end. But not before.

Much to his surprise, the girl had been the one to save his ass and, a voice that sounded an awful lot like Carol, told him he ought to thank her. He didn't, though; he figured they were square after he saved her ass in return. The stink eye he was getting suggested otherwise. He almost smirked, I get it princess, you don't like me much.

The fleeting desire to smile left him instantly as Carl interjected, "That was close, too close. We need a plan or weapons…or…or something."

The kid's voice cracked on the last line, his anxiety soaking through. This wasn't an army he was leading, this was a couple of kids thrown in over their heads. Hell, as an adult, he was in over his own head. He'd fully intended on bringing them through the grounds and, in some fucked up version of happily ever after, reuniting the group.

Looking at the boy who was desperately staring him in the eye, waiting for a plan, he felt inadequate. Beth had given him the same doe eyed look many times; a look that suggested he had all the answers, like everything would be peaches and cream as long as he was around. He'd hated it then and he hated it now.

He was quiet a moment as he contemplated what to do next. He'd planned to go back for more weapons, but the way through had been compromised. Daryl could kick himself for not grabbing more than the crossbow and the hidden handgun tucked away in the waistband of his jeans. There was nothing he could do about that now though.

Carl's voice was impatient, "Well?"

"I'm thinkin'."

There were few options available and Daryl didn't know which to choose. He could tell them to stay where they were and wait for him, but with the area compromised he'd rather they go with him. However, bringing them along meant dragging them straight into danger.

He observed the two of them, assessing their condition. They were both white as a sheet and, despite the light clothing and chilly air, sweating profusely. Carl was struggling to keep the girl on her feet as she swayed and, every time she moved, Carl grimaced and stiffened. The kid tried to keep a straight face, but Daryl had already caught on to the slight limp and suspected that wasn't the only injury he had.

Daryl made his decision, he just wondered how much of a battle he'd have on his hands once he suggested it.

"You two need to get out."

Carl stared at him as if he'd spoken gibberish, "What?"

Daryl stomped towards the two teens, grabbing them by the shoulders and herding them to the fence, "You need to get on the other side."

Carl resisted his pull,"No way!"

Daryl released the squirming kid long enough to jam a finger an inch away from the girl's forehead. She jerked away from him as he growled, "She ain't gonna last much longer and, at this rate, she ain't makin' it out of here at all."

He saw the protest coming, "And what about you and the others then?"

"We'll make do."

"We can-" Carl grit his teeth before continuing, "I can help."

Daryl's voice lowered a notch, "Ain't sayin you can't, kid. All I'm sayin is you gotta choose who it is you're gonna help first."

He felt like an ass for trying to manipulate the kid, but what he'd said wasn't a total lie. The girl really did look like she already had one foot in the grave already, but her life wasn't Daryl's priority. With that many bite marks, there was nothing he could do to save her anyways. But, for whatever reason, Carl seemed hell-bent on trying to do just that. And, if using her life as a bargaining chip was the best chance of getting Carl out of harm's way, Daryl would use it.

Carl looked smug as he shot back, "Maybe you're right, but all I've got to protect her with is a pocketknife. If Walker's find us that won't be enough."

Daryl was prepared for that. He pulled the handgun he was saving for emergency use out of his waistband, "If that happens, you can use this. Just don't fire it unless you have to. Besides, with her covered in Walker guts, you shouldn't have too much of a problem."

That shut the kid up for all of five seconds, "Even if you give me that, where are we supposed to go?"

Daryl scrubbed his face in annoyance. Kids were not his strong suit and Carl had always had a way of tiring him out, "It doesn't matter, just pick a direction and keep going. We'll catch up to you."

"No, I won't split up again."

"Jesus kid, will you just do what you're told for once! This isn't a-" Daryl stopped. The look on Carl's face wasn't stubbornness; it was fear.

He swore under his breath before changing tactics, "Look, we don't have time to stand around arguin'. If you bring her along, you're not only risking her life and yours, but you're putting the others in danger. What we need to do when we get to them needs to happen fast and we can't do that with dead weight. Either leave her behind and come with me, or go with her. Take your pick."

Daryl wasn't an idiot, he knew he'd pissed the kid off by calling the girl dead weight and giving him an ultimatum. The fury rolled off the runt in waves. He also knew that, what ultimately made up Carl's mind, was what happened next. The girl leaned into Carl, and sagged in his arms just slightly, she rested her head against the crook of the boy's neck.

Daryl didn't know if it was purely exhaustion or if she'd done it on purpose. Either way, he was grateful because, like a switch, the kid's anger shifted into resignation.

Even before he opened his mouth, Daryl had already guessed what he was going to say, "Okay, fine. We'll go."

Daryl nodded and hoped he wasn't wrong in sending them off together. They moved to the fence where he took Carl's place in steadying the girl. Carl climbed slowly, hissing under his breath as he went. The girl had her eyes closed and, like she'd done with Carl, was resting her head against his body. She was like a rag doll and Daryl wondered how the hell he'd actually get her to the other side.

When Carl's feet touched the ground, she opened her eyes. Her lips pressed firmly together and she moved her body away from Daryl's. Her fingers slipped through and hooked around the cold metal separating her from Carl. She breathed in through her nose and, pressing her toes against the fence, hoisted herself up.

Her thin arms shook as she reached to get a higher purchase. Daryl had to admit, as he gripped her waist from behind to boost her, she was tenacious. Before she'd even reached the top of the fence Daryl had been forced to let go of her. Unlike with the window, there was no way for him to pass her over to Carl. She'd have to do it on her own.

She came to a complete standstill and, just as he was rethinking the plan, Carl scrambled back up the fence where he met her at the top. Daryl held his breath as Carl angled himself so that she could use his upper body to hold onto as she leveraged herself over to his side. The transition wasn't smooth by any means and was, frankly, painful to witness.

He was pretty sure he even had a mild heart attack when the gun Daryl had given Carl before he'd gone up, slipped out of the kid's too loose waistband. Carl startled so bad at the heavy 'thunk' it made when it landed, that he nearly took a nosedive. If princess hadn't grabbed the back of his shirt as he teetered on the brink, Daryl was pretty sure he would have had to explain to Rick why he was wearing his son's splattered brains all over his shoes.

When they'd finally gotten halfway back to the ground and the girl had slipped, pulling Carl down with her, Daryl felt like he'd aged ten years on the spot. There were a few moans and groans, mainly from Carl, as they untangled themselves and helped each other up. The ordeal finally over, Daryl let out the breath he'd been holding. He shook his head, ain't gonna be signin' these two up for no circus act anytime soon.

"Remember, don't use that gun unless you don't got a choice. You'll only draw more Walker's to you otherwise." He'd said as much already, but after watching their clown act, he'd suddenly felt less sure of the pair going off on their own. He could only imagine the shitshow that would go down if they drew too much attention to themselves.

Flushed in the face, Carl snapped, "I'm not stupid, even I know that much."

Daryl arched an eyebrow, "Sure, kid."

"Daryl…"

He tried not to show his exasperation, but time was ticking, "Yeah, what is it?"

There was hesitation as Carl licked his bottom lip, "What if…what if you don't find us? After, I mean."

The words came on their own, "I will kid. I promise."

Carl's point of view in the next one!