Sissymac- Indeed was that amazing! I'm glad you had a pretty good day!

AN: We did it!

Alright… How about that Season Four Premiere? Epic! And the ending! And that Irish woman! AND EDDIE! And the Caryl! I cannot wait until the next episode!

But I want to know what you guys think people are getting sick with.

Today's Fact: Lucy has Agraphobia (fear of sexual abuse).

Chapter 26

"Dale could get under your skin," my father said to what remained of our group. We had gathered around the graves of the fallen, huddled close as if a Walker could attack at any moment. It was cold—colder than usual. "He sure got under mine. Because he wasn't afraid to say exactly what he thought. How he felt. That kind of honesty is rare.

"And brave. Whenever I'd make a decision, I'd look at Dale. He'd be looking back at me with that look he had. We've all seen it one time or another. I couldn't always read him—but he could read us. He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us. The truth. Who we really are… In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. He said this group is broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences and pull together. Stop feeling… Sorry for ourselves. Take control of our lives. Our safety. Our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong. From now on, we're gonna do it his way.

"That is how we honor Dale," he concluded.

XXX

It was settled. Hershel wanted us off of his land, and into the house. It was unsafe, he had told my father. We spent the better part of two hours collapsing tents, and packing everything we owned. My mother and pulled our belongings out of the back of Otis's truck. My mother took to carrying the larger boxes, despite my protests. I held my brother's clothing box in my hand, when the farmhouse door sprung open, and T-Dog leaped off the porch, and down to my mother.

"Don't strain yourself," he told my mother, taking the blue tub from he.

"Thank you," she said. "My family's taking the corner of the living room."

Hershel held the door open for T-Dog. "You can put that in my room," he ordered kindly. "You'll be more comfortable there."

"We can't do that," my mother denied.

"A pregnant woman and two children sleeping on the floor while I got a bed to myself?"

"This is still your house," my mother insisted.

"It's our home," Hershel said. "I'll take the couch downstairs. On nights when I came home reeking of berben, my wife locked the bedroom door. Sad to say that couch and I became old friends."

"If you two can't decide," T-Dog interjected, "I'll take it."

My mother smiled. "Thank you, Hershel."

"The couch is mine!" he shouted to T-Dog as he disappeared into the house. Hershel followed.

My mother pulled out a hamper consisting of more of Carl's things, setting it on the ground. I placed his clothing box inside.

"Any more of Carl's things?" I asked. She shook her head. Taking the combined box, I ran up the stairs, and into the farmhouse. Looking back, I saw that my mother was making her way towards the windmill, where Shane was busy constructing a guard tower. I finished taking our items inside alone. On the way back out, I ran into my father and Daryl.

"Take Randall out to Senoia," my father said. "An hour there; and hour back, give or take. We may lose the light, but we'll be halfway home by then."

"This pain in the ass will soon be a painful memory," Daryl said. "Good riddance."

"Carol's putting together some supplies for him. Enough to last a few days," my father said. He turned towards me. "Still up for going?"

"Yeah."

Shane drove the Hyundai towards the house.

"If we give him supplies, he'll just keep coming back for more," I told my father. "He's like a dog. Worse, what if he gears his group up to attack?"

"He won't," Daryl said. "If his group moves around so much, he'll never find them."

"Unless he was lying."

There was silence. Finally, my father spoke to Daryl once more. "That thing you did last night…"

"Ain't no reason you should do everything on your own."

My father nodded. "So you're good with all this?"

"Don't see you and I tradin' ol' haymakers on the side of the road," Daryl replied. He chucked a map to my father. "Gonna take a piss."

Shane got out of the vehicle, making his way towards us.

"Hey man," he said. "You seen Carl 'round lately?"

"He's inside with his mother," my father told him.

"Look, he came to me. He was out in the swamps yesterday. He came across a Walker. Stuck in the mud. Got scared. Ran off…"

"Same Walker that killed Dale?"

"That's the one." I felt empty. My brother—my twelve-year-old brother was responsible for someone's death.

"I'll have Lori talk to him."

"I think he wants to talk to his father."

"Well I need this Randall thing done already."

"Man that needs to wait."

My father glared at him. "This is my call."

"How about I ride out with Daryl and Lucy?" Shane suggested. "Be good for us to spend a little time together."

"No… I need you here."

"Don't think I'll handle it right, huh?"

"Didn't say that."

"What'd you say?" Shane snapped. "Y'know, your son gave me this." He pulled out a gun, handing it to my father. "Freeing that prisoner… More important to you than Carl?"

I hated to admit it, but Shane was right. My father gave me a quick look. Carl stepped outside, running towards the barn.

"You should talk to him," I told my father. "Shane was right."

"I can't. Randall-"

I cut my father off. "Enough. Just stop. Please talk to him."

He looked at the barn, shuffling in position. "Alright. But you're coming with me."

Nodding, we took off, walking side by side to the barn. The doors were wide open. We climbed up the hayloft. Carl was sitting by the large lookout window with a pair of binoculars. We approached him, my father placing a hand on his shoulder as he lowered the binoculars. "Saw you come here."

The two of us sat beside my brother. "I wanted to be on lookout. I got tired of walking around the house," Carl said. Our father nodded.

Pulling out Daryl's gun, he held it in front of Carl. "Take it," he urged. "What happened to Dale had nothing to do with you."

"But he died."

"Yeah… Feels like there's a lot of the going around. That's why I need you—even your sister. No more kid stuff. I wish you two could have the childhood I had, but that's never gonna happen. People are gonna die. I'm gonna die. Mom… Even you two eventually. There's no way you can ever be ready for it. I try to be, but I can't. The best we can do now is avoid it as long as we can; keep one step ahead. I wish I had something better to say—something more profound. My father was good like that.

"I'm tired, kids. Please, Carl. Take the gun."

He hesitated, but slowly reached across, wrapping his small fingers around the weapon. My father draped both of his arms around our shoulders, hugging us to him.

"I love you two."

XXX

It was time. Randall was finally going to be out of our hair. I walked with my father out of the barn. Daryl and T-Dog stood by the truck, readying it for the delivery.

"Ready?" my father asked them.

"Yeah," T-Dog told him. "I'll get the package."

"Thanks."

I grabbed my father's arm. "Thank you for talking to him," I told him.

"You're welcome."

Daryl climbed into the truck. My father was about to climb in, until T-Dog shouted. Daryl heard it, too. The three of us ran to the shed, finding it empty. My father and I surveyed the inside with Andrea. The rest of the group met up with us.

"What's wrong?" I heard my mother shout.

"Randall's missing," Glenn answered.

"How?"

There was chaos and questions.

"The cuffs are still hooked," my father announced as the two of us departed. "He must have slipped them."

"Is that possible?" Carol asked.

"It is if you've got nothing to lose," Andrea said, stepping into the light.

"The door was secure from the outside," Hershel pointed out. "How did he get out if it's locked?"

"Did he break the boards in the back?" I asked. "We could have missed something."

"Go back in and check," my father told me.

I ran back in with Andrea. She pushed me up onto the top loft. The boards were still intact.

I dropped back down, shaking my head at her.

"Everything's secure," Andrea told the group.

"This doesn't make-"

"RICK!"

We all turned towards the woods, where a badly injured Shane came out, stalking towards us.

"What happened?" my mother shouted.

"He's armed!" Shane continued. "He's got my gun!"

"Are you okay?" Carl asked.

"I'm fine! Little bastard just snuck up on me! Clocked me in the face."

My father turned towards us. "Hershel!" he ordered. "T-Dog! Get everybody back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, Lucy, come with us."

I pulled out my gun. My mother didn't protest.

"T!" Shane shouted. "I'm gonna need that gun."

"Just let him go," Carol said. "That was the plan, wasn't it? To just let him go?"

"The plan was to cut him loose far away from here," my father told her. "Not in our front step with a gun!"

"Don't go out there—you don't know what could happen!"

"Get everybody back in the house. Lock all the doors. Stay put!"

Was any of this even possible? Had somebody forgotten to relock Randall's cuffs last night? Had somebody given him the key? No, of course not. This was all some freak accident, right? Yes, it was. Deep down, I felt myself tumbling with suspicion that Randall had jumped Shane.

I stroked my thumb along the finish of my gun. "I saw him head up towards the trees that way before I blacked out," Shane barked. "I'm not sure how long."

"Couldn't have gotten far," my father replied. "He's hobble, stumbling-"

"But armed," Glenn added.

"So are we," my father told him. "So can we track him?"

"I don't nothin'," Daryl said.

"Hey, look. There ain't no use tracking him, okay? He went that way. I saw we pair up and spread out. Just chase him down."

"Kid weighs about twenty-five soakin' wet. Tryin' to tell us he got the jump on you?" Daryl asked, skeptical.

"Yeah," I piped in. "He really must have been something."

"It happened. I say right here-"

"Alright," my father sighed. "Alright. Knock it off. Daryl, Glenn; start heading up towards the right plank. Shane and I will take the left. Lucy- I need you to stay on perimeter. If you see something, go after it."

"Are you being legitimate?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Absolutely sure?"

He gave an irritated sigh.

I sighed back. "Fine." He pulled me in for a quick hug.

"Remember; Randall's not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other." I caught Shane giving my father a deadly look. I pulled my black jacket closer to me if at all possible, standing alone. Once everyone had departed and I could not be seen, I took off.

Did I feel comfortable out here with Randall running about? Of course not. We hadn't exactly left off on the right foot. If he had Shane's gun, then I could easily end up with a bullet in my head.

I moved along the creak of the woods, balancing on the edge

The wind kicked up. I had forgotten to pull my hair up, and I suffered the consequences of having my hair nipping my face. I departed from the water, circling back to the farm. It was already late when we set out, and now it was entirely dark. I turned on the lantern my father had given me. Suddenly, I stumbled forward, though I caught myself on a tree. I looked down at my boots, bending down to retie the loose lace. Standing back up, my eyes caught a large patch of blood on the tree. Suspicion grew in me.

I paced the tree, my eyes catching on something. Looking out, I flattened against the tree as a shuffling figure hobbled around out there. Crouching down, I saw that it was Randall. His hands were no longer cuffed, only tied with a rope in front of him… And then it hit me. Somebody let him go.

Somebody like Shane. And it all just clicked together.

I turned off my light. My cold hand darted to my gun, my fingers searching clicking a bullet into the chamber. I aimed the gun at his head. I saw that Randall had no gun with him, however. There was no way possible he had escaped. My suspicions had been answered. Randall's neck was twisted at a sick, grotesque angle. It was almost as if somebody had broken his neck. Certainly Shane had the knack to kill people. He almost did it to me once. He killed Otis.

The night skies made everything so ominous. I watched as the reanimated Randall slowly stumbled away.

My ears twitched as something out of the ordinary broke the silence. It wasn't myself. I looked out at where Randall was, but he was out of sight. And then the gun barrel pressed up to the back of my head.

"Drop your gun," Shane barked. "Now!"

I felt it fall down. He snagged the gun, tucking it into his pants. I raised my hands slowly.

"You're a monster," I snapped.

"Maybe."

"You won't shoot me. My dad will-"

"Rick won't do shit. You two… You both ruined everything. You took Lori, and Carl. They can get over Rick once more. 'Course, you never did. So you have to die and rot in Hell with him."

This whole moment seemed incredibly cliché, but that was life for you.

I swung my leg back. Shane crumpled. As I ran, his hand latched onto my ankle, dragging me down. My forehead collided with a rock. I swore I felt my skull cracking. Sure as hell I could feel the blood running. Shane flattened on top of me, shoving his gun in my face as he flipped me over. I reached out, clawing his skin. The gun rammed into my right eye. My vision went blurry, and I felt it bleeding, even swelling. My eye never cleared. Fear of becoming blind again swarmed me… I dove forward.

His hands wrapped around my neck, slamming me into the tree, where the dried blood had caked. The leaves rustled. I saw a faint sliver of light. And voices.

"What was that?"

My spirits lit up as I heard Daryl. Shane's hands gripped onto my neck, cutting off my breathing. I felt an immense pain in my neck as he came so close to breaking it. He pulled me from the tree, sliding further away as Daryl and Glenn passed. I calmed down for a second as he grip loosened, but it was my own undoing. Everything went black as Shane shoved my head with great force into a tree, pushing me down a hill as consciousness left my soul, collapsing into a muddy pit, a mere crevice in this vast world.

I trailed behind everybody as Mindy galloped like a mad horse, giggling her head off. Josh slinked directly behind her, carrying a cooler. Eventually he stopped, letting the other partygoers ahead. We walked side by side.

"Having fun?" he asked me.

"Sure. Nothing like wasting my evening with a bunch of fourteen year-olds who act like they're much older." I snapped. He chuckled.

"Don't act like you don't."

"Don't what?"

"Act like you're older."

"That's because I don't."

"Yeah," he snorted. "Okay."

Mindy gave off an extremely loud cackle ahead. "Why are you dating her again?" I asked. "I mean, you guys hated each other the last time.

He shrugged. "I guess we're just meant for each other."

"You're also fourteen."

"We are fourteen. Everyone here is. See? This is what I mean about you acting like you're older than us."

"Maturity levels; yes. So what's the real reason?"

"Well, a certain someone turned me down," he said, wriggling his eyebrows at me.

"I'm fourteen years old. That means I shouldn't be dating nonetheless sexually active," I spat, storming ahead.

"You're a real piece of work, y'know!" he shouted after me.

I rolled my eyes. As I approached the others, I noticed they had gathered in the front of the barn, transfixed as if they were worshiping this decaying structure like a shrine. Mindy grabbed my arm, dragging me inside. The others filed in. As soon as Josh entered, Mindy hugged him yet again. Mindy's cousin Brian took the cooler. "Hey, Lucy. Can you help?"

"Sure." I grabbed the other end of the cooler, dragging it to the back with him. He propped open the lid with a smirk, gazing at the contents like jewels. I peeked inside, my breath hitching at the sight of at least three-dozen bottles of beer. My parents drank, sure, but I didn't want to get in trouble with them for drinking underage. I felt knots forming in my stomach.

"Lucy?" Mindy asked as she approached me. "You okay?"

"N-yeah," I managed. "I forgot something back at the house. I should probably go-"

"Brian can go get it."

"No, really. I should. Feminine things," I smoothly lied. Well, maybe not smoothly…

"Oh… I'll go back with you."

"And make you miss your party?" I stifled a fake laugh. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Okay… Good luck- erm… Don't get eaten by snakes on the way back. Or-"

"I'll be fine," I said, sternly. I slid out of the barn door, taking off in a dead sprint towards the Victorian house. Once I saw the lights radiating off of the structure, I slowed down. Stepping in, I was met with an impact of cold air from the air conditioners. I bounded up the steps of the house. Pushing the bathroom door open, I turned the lights on, inhaling the scent of lavender. I locked the door, my thoughts interrupted by the fan above my head. I sat down on the edge of the bathroom, and pulled out my flip phone.

I dialed my father's cell phone. It went straight to voice mail. I tried three more times before giving up with an exasperated sigh. I even tried Shane's phone, but there was no answer, either. I retorted to calling home. The phone rang three times before somebody finally picked up.

"Hello?" it was my brother.

"Carl?" I asked. "I- Is Mom there?"

"She's cleaning the kitchen."

"I need to talk to her."

"But she's busy."

"Please," I ran my hand through my hair. "It's important Carl."

"Well… Okay."

I heard my brother calling for my mother through the speaker. I heard her yelling back from rooms away, even when she took the phone from her as her nails grazed over the phone. "Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Where's Dad?"

"He got called in for an emergency- why?"

"C-can you pick me up?"

"Don't tell me you're homesick…"

"No, just please pick me up."

I heard her talking to Carl, telling him to get some things around to go to our neighbors. A little surprise for the elderly couple that were already in bed, no doubt. Still, they loved Carl.

"I'll be there in a few minutes…"

"Okay… I love you."

"I love you, too."

I ran out of the room, down the steps, and back outside. I sat down on the porch, picking at the peeling paint on the top step. As the minutes passed, I felt nervous. Maybe my mother lied? Maybe she got lost?

The headlights to her small car shimmered through the trees. I bounded towards her, sitting inside.

"What happened?" she asked as I buckled my seatbelt.

"Nothing."

"Lucy…"

"I'll tell you later."

My mother pulled out of the driveway. I watched the trees fly past us–a strong habit I had–while she drove. As the road began to twist, she slowed down. "Please tell me what happened."

"Mom…"

"Lucy…"

I sighed. "If I tell you, please don't get mad. And let me tell Dad."

She flashed me a quick look. "Deal."

"Okay, so-"

The impact of the force thrust upon us was too much. My mother screamed as the car flipped, almost flying off of the mountain. The airbags shot out, slamming into us. Cracks trickled in the window as the car landed on the side, the tires still spinning. With a boom, the car flattened. My eyes widened with shock as the glass exploded. The airbags prevented me from shielding my face as the glass flew at me.

As the glass tore my eyes, screams escaped my body. Once a large shard dug into my forehead, and all of the blood flooded in my face, it was too much. My head flew back, letting a scream loud enough to wake the county.

And it was only the beginning of what the future held…