A/N - Response to a Guest reviewer - I try to post a new chapter around every 1 - 2 weeks. It depends how busy I am with university, and also how far ahead I am with my draft chapters (I like to have plenty up my sleeve before posting them so that there's time for me to "incubate" ideas and then go back to fix things). I highly recommend you get a FanFiction account and sign up for the alerts, so that you get an email for every new chapter posted.

Thanks for all the great reviews guys, I'm glad you're enjoying the added drama.

"Nicholas!" she called out again. Risking it, she took one hand off the door and reached for the radio clipped to her belt. Her heart sank even more as she realised it only the plastic of the broken clip remained, that it must have broken off during the scuffle. "Oh, shit…shit…"

As her fate dawned on her and panic rose, Carrie started to break down. She wasn't ready for this. After everything she'd been through, after Granger's group, losing Sue and then being on her own for months, she'd been ready to die, she'd accepted it and welcomed it. But in the space of just two weeks, everything had changed.

She wasn't ready to die anymore.

The Walkers snarled and clawed at the other side of the bathroom door, their weight and repeated attempts to get in quickly weakening Carrie. Struggling to catch her breath, she pushed against the cubicle wall which she braced her foot against, using the leverage to keep the door closed. It was a fight she was quickly beginning to lose, her whole body protesting the strain she put it under, her limbs trembling and on the verge of giving in. But while it was getting harder, Carrie refused to give up. She had already ascertained that by some miracle she wasn't scratched or bit, that she still had a chance. This was not it for her, this was not the end of the road. After everything she had been through, after the incredible fight she had made to survive, to be there with Rick and his group, she couldn't give up now.

Sucking in a deep breath, she knew she was going to have to get herself out of this. Even if Nicholas did make it back to Michonne and Aidan, Carrie's strength wasn't going to last that long. Her body was not what it used to be, and her strength had wasted away over four months of living hand to mouth. Two weeks of regular meals and protein shakes had helped, but not to the extent that she needed today. She felt like she was going to puke, the physical strain combined with the stench of the dead Walker making her feel like she'd lose her lunch at any second. Pushing past this, she took a deep breath and stopped bracing her foot against the cubicle behind her.

Not letting her force on the door lapse, Carrie slowly stood up and turned around, using her back to hold the door closed. There was a moment of panic when she felt her boots sliding yet again, the tiled floor slippery with blood from the Walker that lay by her feet. Scrambling for something to hold on to, she spread her arms out to either side, gratefully finding what felt like an electric hand dryer on her left. Using that to steady herself, she reached her other hand into her back pocket, finding the small torch she had used that afternoon at Walmart.

Not wanting to drop it, she brought it around to her front very slowly and then turned it on. Her heart filled with elation as the beam of light illuminated her surroundings, the knowledge helping her feel a little more in control. Breathing deeply, she shone it around the restroom, taking note of the three cubicles along the far wall and the line of sinks to her left. Her plan was formulated in a second, and she knew it would work…she could take on all of these Walkers, but not if they were coming at her all at once. She needed to control them, to keep them at a distance until she was ready to deal with them individually. Setting her sights on the very last cubicle, she prayed that the lock on the inside wasn't broken.

Not even two minutes after Nicholas abandoned her, she took her chances, knowing she was the only one who could help her right now. Taking note of where the dead Walker lay, lest she accidentally trip over it, she grit her teeth and made a run for the last cubicle. Her legs buckled beneath her, but not until they got her all the way to the final cubicle, and it was there that she fell to the ground. But with no time to rest, Carrie forced herself back up, and she slammed the door closed and fumbled to find the lock. She could hear the Walkers coming in now, and she dimly noted that one of them fell over as they entered. Finding the lock, her trembling fingers clumsily managed to close it just as the Walkers threw themselves against it.

She let out a shout of relief, feeling like she might collapse in relief. With another deep breath, she instead staggered backwards and climbed up onto the toilet, not caring that one foot slipped and landed in the bowl. Confident that the lock would hold for as long as she needed it to, she shone her flashlight downwards to the gap between the floor and the walls of the cubicle. Having taken the last one, there were only two areas she needed to watch, the bottom of the door, and the bottom of the cubicle next to her. There was no way to tell exactly how many Walkers were out there, but it didn't matter. Just as she had hoped, the Walkers were scrambling to get to her, getting down onto the floor and trying to reach underneath the cubicle.

Carrie tentatively stepped down from the toilet, but kept her feet on the far side of it, not wanting them to get a grip on her ankle. Holding her flashlight in one hand and her knife in the other, she waited until she saw a head coming underneath the cubicle, and then she dove for it. Plunging her knife through the skull, she tore it back out and then stood back again, waiting for the next opportunity. One by one the Walkers presented themselves to her, and one by one she took them out, using the walls of the cubicle to protect her as she did so. Using her knife, she pulled the third Walker out of the way to make room for the next, the gap being just enough. Slowly but surely, the next Walker reached underneath the cubicle, determinedly wriggling itself under and exposing its head.

When she plunged her knife into the fourth skull there was silence, and Carrie gave an almighty cry of relief. Standing in the toilet cubicle with four dead Walkers at her feet, her hand and feet slippery with blood and gore, she only just managed not to break down into tears again. She couldn't believe it…there was silence now, possibly the most beautiful silence she had ever heard. But there was no time to dwell on how close she had come, on how hard she had fought to save her own life…she needed to find Nicholas.

Opening the lock, she forcefully wrenched the cubicle door open and shone her flashlight out into the restroom, looking for any signs that the Walkers might still be alive. She stumbled over the dead Walkers and left the cubicle, bracing herself against the sinks when she felt her legs beginning to shake again. Going ever so slowly, she reached the door and then hesitated again, listening carefully. There was no way any Walkers hadn't heard the commotion in this restroom…if there were any more they would be making themselves known by now. With that in mind, she slowly opened the door and looked out, squinting as the light shone inside.

Opening the door properly, she groaned as she stepped back out into the corridor, her knees buckling again and sending her to her knees for a moment. Lightheaded, she pressed her palms onto the floor and breathed slowly, getting herself together. As tears of relief slid down her cheeks again, she slowly looked up, seeing a dead Walker halfway down the hallway. Thinking of Nicholas, Carrie took another deep breath as she got to her feet, feeling steadier now. Standing tall, she slowly walked down the hallway and retrieved her gun, and remembering her prior mistake, she put a round in the chamber before holstering it again. A few feet away lay the radio that had dislodged from her belt when she had fallen, but she didn't let herself get excited to see it. Noting that the antennae was snapped clean off, she tried to get a signal anyway, but was only greeted by static. Nevertheless she kept it and headed down the hallway, past the dead Walker.

There were two more out in the large reception hall, the stab wounds to their heads indicating that Nicholas had taken them down. All together there had been eight Walkers trapped behind the door Carrie had told Nicholas not to open, eight Walkers that had burst out on him and trapped her in the corridor. Nicholas had taken down three of them…and then let the last five go after her, leaving her for dead. Later, anger would surge through her veins, fury would see her demanding to know why he had left her, but now was not the time for that. Dimly noting that in his panic Nicholas had still thought to take their pack of supplies, Carrie braced herself before departing the building, gratefully breathing in the fresh, clean air outside.

A part of her expected to find Nicholas waiting for her outside, to find him with his head in his hands or frantically calling out to the others, but another part of her was unsurprised to find that she was completely alone. Clearing her throat, she held back yet another bout of tears, using her clean hand to brush her hair off her face. The car was gone, which made sense of course, and as she stood in the centre of the road and looked around, she wondered how far Michonne and Aidan were. Her bottom lip trembled as she realised how stupid she had been earlier…she hadn't been able to remember the village map, and she hadn't paid attention to the path Nicholas had taken from where they left Aidan and Michonne.

She knew only which direction they had come from before arriving at the reception centre, and that was where she was looking now. Checking her watch, she saw that only fifteen minutes had passed since they had separated from Aidan and Michonne. Nicholas would be looking for them in the infirmary or the red zoned bungalows, but would he be able to find them? Would he be able to alert them to what had happened any time soon? Given the difficulty in navigating around this retirement village, she considered this to be unlikely.

Nicholas had already left her once…he wouldn't be returning to the reception centre to check on her, to be absolutely sure that she was dead. The only person who would insist on it would be Michonne, Carrie trusting that she would not leave without being absolutely sure. But consulting her watch again, she figured it would be at least another forty five minutes until she and Aidan were due to return to their meeting point…if Carrie could get back there before then…if she could -

Hearing familiar sounds behind her, Carrie turned and looked around, surprised to find that the road behind her was growing populated with Walkers. Until now the entire village had seemed rather lifeless, but perhaps Nicholas had squealed the tyres as he fled. That might have roused any that were hanging about. Already she could see three of them down one street, and six of them down the other. Though they seemed intimidating, nine Walkers were not normally too much for her to handle, particularly when they were spread out and she was armed with a gun.

She thought she could take them on…they were spaced out enough for her to even taken her time, but when one suddenly appeared in a garden nearby her, she lurched back defensively. With the clip for her radio broken, she clumsily shoved it into the back of her jeans, glad they were still a little loose, and she took out her machete instead. With her gun in one hand and machete in the other, she made a split second decision to make a run for it. Heading in the direction which she and Nicholas had come, she slipped past two more Walkers and broke into a jog. There had to be at least a dozen by now, each come from different directions, and there would be more soon.

What she was doing made perfect sense, even though a small voice in her head told her she should be staying put. If there were more Walkers coming, she couldn't afford to be firing her gun without a silencer, nor would she be able to take them all on with just her machete. She couldn't seek refuge in the reception centre, not with it's enormous glass windows, and her access to the other buildings was blocked by Walkers already. Her best option was to be on the move, to get away from the location to which the Walkers were being drawn and instead catch up to Nicholas.

If she was fast, and lucky, then she would find him before the shock of what had happened to her actually set in.

The two hours they had allowed for scavenging were drawing to a close, a reassurance to Rick who never liked it when the group separated. Sitting on the hood of the delivery van next to Carl, they shared a pack of potato chips as they waited for Abraham and Rosita to get back from the veterinary surgery down the road. With a rifle across both their laps and a good view of the surrounding areas, they were content to sit and wait for them, even though Rick would have normally taken the opportunity to check out a few other places while he waited. But today he was limited by Carl, by his lack of quick mobility, and so he settled for the potato chips and comfortable silence, enjoying the opportunity for them to sit alone together for a little while.

It was nice the two of them just sitting there, enjoying one another's company. It had been so long since they had spent time one on one they way they used to down at the prison gardens, and he had started to forget how much he actually enjoyed his son's company. It was in the gardens where he and Carl tended to talk the most, short bursts of conversation cropping up in between their various tasks. That also tended to be where the tentative questions about sex came up, Carl making the occasional enquiry as they tilled the earth or scrubbed Violet's water trough. Rick had no doubt that these questions were perfectly timed to coincide with the tasks that tended to require the most strenuous work, Carl likely wanting a reason to disguise why his cheeks were suddenly so red.

After successfully clearing the Planned Parenthood centre of Walkers, Rick braced himself for the inevitable questions to begin, knowing that Carl was going to be curious about the items they were scavenging. The moment Abraham and Rosita departed to check out the veterinary clinic up the road, the questions had begun, Carl frowning as he looked at a blister pack of birth control. Although part of Rick was insistent that fourteen was too young to be learning about sex, a quieter, more rational voice told him that if the questions were coming, they needed to be answered. Suspecting the quieter voice was Lori lingering in the back of his mind, he answered every question as accurately as he could, although he and Carl were both happy to maintain minimal eye contact throughout their time in the centre.

Despite his reservations, Rick was glad Carl was coming to him with these questions, that he wasn't too embarrassed to ask him. If he was getting curious about sex he'd rather Carl come to him for answers rather than get misinformation elsewhere. And yet when Carl opened a box of condoms, tore the wrapper off one and unrolled it with a curious look on his face, the only question he voiced was, "Can you use these as water balloons?"

Still amused by Carl's priorities, Rick glanced up at the sky as it began to rain, annoyed by the dark clouds overhead. He'd been hoping to give Carl another chance to drive tomorrow, and though a little rain would be a good experience for him, the clouds above were threatening torrential levels. For now though it was only a little, and neither of them were bothered by it, preferring to instead enjoy the fresh air. They'd spent too much time sitting in the cars for the last few weeks.

"Hey Dad," Carl began slowly. "What are we doing for Mom on Monday?"

The question threw Rick for a loop, having been avoiding the thought of the day that was coming up. While he was naturally looking forward to celebrating Judith's first birthday, he knew that wasn't the only significance of the day…he just didn't know how to approach it. The notion that they celebrated Judith's life on the day that Lori had died was difficult for him to rationalise…even more so when it felt like Lori had been dead for a very long time, not one year.

"I was thinking…" Rick began, his mind scrambling to come up with something. "That we'd start by making pancakes for breakfast. Just you and me…we can cook them for everyone."

Carl slowly nodded. "Judith too?"

"She can be our taste tester."

His lips parting to respond, Carl stopped himself. Down the street ahead of them, a Walker shuffled into the intersection, and so they fell silent as they waited to see if it spotted them. Vigilant, Rick carefully stood up a little and looked in all directions, making sure that it was really just one. Satisfied, he sat back down, shaking his head when he saw that Carl was now holding a can of Pepsi.

"Wait," he whispered.

They watched the Walker's slow progress as it made it's way across the intersection ahead, never noticing the two humans sitting only a dozen yards away. Rick's hand twitched on his machete, feeling as though he had an itch he couldn't scratch, even though letting the Walker go was the rational choice. Though they were otherwise alone, Rick didn't want to leave Carl on his own, not with his mobility so impaired.

"Dad. When we make pancakes, can leave out the lumps?"

A smile crossed Rick's face. "You didn't like the lumps?" he asked, pretending to be surprised.

Carl shook his head. "Not really."

"Sure, we can make them without the lumps."

"How come you never complained about it?" Carl asked, finally opening the Pepsi. "You never told Mom how bad they were."

"They weren't always bad. Besides, it was important to her."

"Pancakes were important?"

"Yes," he simply answered, knowing Carl wouldn't quite understand what Lori intended every time she made her family pancakes.

Accepting this, Carl took a long, indulgent drink of the Pepsi, pausing before he burped with a laugh. Desiring the sweetness, for soda was a luxury afforded to the few, Rick gestured his hand for the can, he too taking an indulgent sip.

"I thought you didn't like Pepsi," Carl commented. "I thought you liked Coke."

"I don't like Pepsi. But you know what they say about beggars."

"They can't be choosers?"

"That's right." Taking another sip before passing it back, Rick grimaced as he too burped, stifling the sound with his fist. As he suspected he might, Carl laughed under his breath.

"That was a good effort," he praised. "But I can only give that a five out of ten."

"I'm sorry to let you down. I'll try har…" Rick trailed off, noticing that Carl was leaning to his left. "Hey, don't fart!" he hissed, roughly elbowing him. "It'll echo on the hood, we'll have every Walker in town here."

Laughing, Carl at least had the decency to apologise. "What's the definition of bravery?"

Sighing, Rick looked around at their surroundings, checking they were still safe. "Is this a fart joke?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"I've heard them all."

"So what's the definition of bravery?" Carl challenged him.

"The first fart after diarrhoea."

Predictably, Carl laughed. "Abraham told me that one."

"What do you get when you mix cabbage, beans and onions?"

"What?"

"Tear gas in your pants."

Carl laughed again, stifling it behind his hand. "Remember that time you made me laugh so hard I peed my pants?"

Easily remembering the moment, for it was one he wouldn't ever forget, Rick grinned at him. "Yes," he said, glancing up the street when he saw Abraham and Rosita appear. "You know I told your mom, right?"

"What?" Carl moaned in embarrassment, his cheeks tinged pink now. "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Oh come on, you were six," he said apologetically, still remembering how he struggled to keep a straight face when he told Lori. "And I had to tell her. She kept asking me why I did a load of laundry with hardly anything in it."

Carl looked at him mistrustfully. "Who else did you tell?"

"No one, I promise," Rick lied. Shane, both sets of Grandparents…Lori's friend Monique.

"You better not have," he grumbled, though he perked up a little when Abraham and Rosita reached the car.

"You two done slacking off?" Rosita griped, dropping her pack with a long sigh.

Carl shrugged. "We're not slacking off, we were just faster than you."

"Any trouble?" Abraham asked, heading around to the back of the delivery van.

"No," Rick answered, picking up the pack Rosita had dropped he followed Abraham around the back. "You?"

"Aside from dead cats and dogs stinking the place up?" he grumbled, opening the doors. "No. We got some good stuff though. All the meds were cleared out, but plenty of equipment, needles, cords…Pete can tell us if it's useful or not."

"Same here, plenty of contraceptives. As for expiry dates, that's Pete's problem."

"I've got the details of another vet surgery on the outskirts of town, seems like it's more for live stock. Could be untouched if it's on the outskirts."

Although he was in agreement with this presumption, Rick was reluctant. "I'd rather we leave it. I don't want us to stray too far from where the others expect us to be, not with night coming in an hour or so."

As if to support this notion, Rick glanced up to see the arrival of the grey minivan. For some reason, Michonne's group had met up with them a few minutes early, something they wouldn't have been able to do if they had strayed from their agreed areas.

"What about a drive by tomorrow before we haul ass?"

"That's fine with me," Rick nodded in agreement. Still watching the minivan, he frowned to see Aidan and Nicholas getting out of the front seats, while Carrie and Michonne appeared to wait inside. "It could prove useful in the future."

"You want to get some live stock for Alexandria?"

"Yes. Don't tell me you haven't been dreaming of a nice thick porterhouse."

Abraham moaned, closing the doors to the removal van. "Medium rare, with a creamy pepper sauce and mashed potatoes."

"We could have fresh milk if we get a dairy cow," Rick added, following him back to the others. "Fresh butter and cream. Carol knows how to make ice cream…"

Rick trailed off, a feeling of dread creeping up on him as he approached the others. Aidan and Nicholas were already out of the car, but it was their body language that had Rick's hackles raised…they looked upset, their faces ashen, and the longer Rick looked the more his heart sank. Rosita was standing with her hand over her mouth, while Carl was frozen on the hood of the delivery van, his face white. Taking a slow breath, Rick sought out Michonne for an explanation, looking around for her…unable to find her, he started towards the minivan. It was empty…no Michonne, and no Carrie either.

He turned to Aidan and Nicholas. "Where are they?" he enquired bluntly, his brain scrambling to come up with an explanation. They were with another group, they were back at Walmart…there was an explanation. When Aidan and Nicholas didn't answer, Rick shouted impatiently, "Where are they?"

"Is Michonne okay?" Carl asked fearfully, bracing himself for the answer.

His hands nervously clenched in his pockets, Aidan looked at Rick. "Michonne's fine," he told him, his voice wavering. "It's Carrie…she's dead."

On face value the words made sense, and though they were simple enough, Rick found he didn't understand. He looked at Aidan blankly, trying to wrap his head around what he had just been told.

"Carrie's dead?"

Aidan nodded, his face crestfallen. He opened his mouth to say something else, but it seemed words were lost, and he simply stood there, awaiting Rick's reaction. Still trying to make sense of what had been said, Rick looked at Rosita and then Abraham, waiting for them to explain…to clarify that a mistake had been made. When they did nothing of the sort he turned his attention to Nicholas. His face was pink and his body language defensive and frightened. Observing the way he stood fractionally behind Aidan, as though seeking his protection, everything began clicking into place. When he realised he had Rick's full attention he averted his eyes, and it was then that Rick realised that it was him…he was responsible for this.

"What happened?" he demanded, speaking directly to Nicholas. "Nicholas?"

Shifting uncomfortably, he glanced up at Aidan before he answered. "She opened a door without my back up," he softly explained. "They just came at her. I'm sorry, Rick. I tried, but I couldn't get to her…"

There was a long silence now, and standing there in utter disbelief, Rick just looked between the two of them. "Carrie?"

"Yes."

"She's dead?"

Nicholas nodded. There was silence all around, Rick feeling numb with shock. Even though a part of him was just about ready to sink to his knees, the rest of him was filled with sheer disbelief. It couldn't be possible…not Carrie. Surely not her. She was careful, just like he was. Looking between them, Rick took in Aidan and Nicholas' expressions of sorrow, and from the corner of his eye seeing Carl beginning to shake. The silence stretched on, a heavy weight settling on Rick's chest as he felt a chill seeping through his body.

"Did you see it?" he blankly asked Nicholas.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"They came at her."

Rick blinked. "And that's all you saw?"

"She was on the floor, they were on top of her," Nicholas insisted regretfully. "There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

"Did you actually see her die?" he demanded, raising his voice.

"Yes! I could hear her screaming."

"Where's Michonne?" he asked next, looking around and confirming her absence. He wanted to hear this from her, from someone he trusted. "She was with you. Where is she now?"

"She went back," Aidan explained softly.

Their stupidity rendered him momentarily speechless, and he gaped at them in horror. "And you…you left her there?" he said incredulously. "You just -"

"She wanted to stay," Aidan cut him off.

"So you leave her?" he questioned, starting forward angrily

"Rick," Abraham began softly, grabbing him by the arm. "Rick, let's get everyone back to base. It'll be dark soon…we need to get back to base."

The gesture was enough to stop him, but Rick shrugged Abraham's hand off. "No," he said forcefully.

There was an awkward pause, all of them looking to each other as they tried to gauge Rick's reaction, his next move. Not knowing what to do, he just stood there in silence for a few moments, waiting for the ball to drop. Carrie was dead…but she couldn't possibly be. Not her…not after everything she had gone through to survive, she couldn't possible be killed so easily, so suddenly. Looking back to Aidan and Nicholas, he thought about the brief glance they had shared before Nicholas gave his explanation, wondering how much he should read into it.

"She opened a door without my back up," Nicholas had said. Carrie was impulsive and rash on occasion, but she wasn't stupid. It didn't make sense, but he felt completely frozen, unable to act…he didn't know what to do.

"Dad." Carl's voice dragged him back, making him look around at him. He was already climbing down from the hood and getting his crutches ready, and Rick knew what he was going to say before he said it. "Dad…let's go."

He hesitated for only a moment, knowing Carl was right. Aside from the need to retrieve Michonne, if Carrie was indeed dead, he wanted proof. He needed to see it with his own eyes. After everything she had been through, after everything they had shared together, he owed her that much.

"Minivan, back seat," he instructed Carl, turning to Aidan. "Has she got a radio? Has Michonne got a radio?"

"No," Aidan shook his head. "But Carrie did…she had one."

"And you've tried calling her on it?"

"I…I didn't see the point." He sighed when he saw the anger on Rick's face. "Nicholas saw it happen."

"Get in the minivan," he growled angrily, wasting no time. "Nicholas. You stay with Abraham. Do not fucking leave his side, is that clear?" he shouted.

Nicholas just nodded.

"Get his story," he hissed to Abraham as he walked past him. "Press for details."

Abraham tried to stop him for a moment. "Let me go instead. You shouldn't have to see."

"Just do it!" he snapped, not wanting a debate.

Checking that Carl had everything he needed, Rick swung himself into the driver's seat of the minivan and started it up, not bothering to adjust the seat back before taking off. The wheels squealed as he took off, the occupants swaying as he took a corner roughly and then sped off. There was only awful silence, prompting Rick to take his radio off his hip and pass it back to Carl.

"Call out to Carrie," he told him. "Tell her to respond if she can hear you."

"Rick," Aidan started hesitantly. "She-"

"Start from the very beginning," he interrupted him, wanting to hear what Aidan had to say now that he and Nicholas were separated.

"She's dead, Rick. He could hear her screaming."

"I'm not asking for your assessment of the situation," Rick told him, violently swerving around a Walker as he listened to Carl on the radio. "Start from when you left Walmart."

Aidan nodded, taking a deep breath before he started. "We left Walmart, got to Eastridge. It was massive, so we decided to split up."

"Who went with who?"

"Michonne and I went to the medical centre. Nicholas went with Carrie to the reception and recreation areas."

"Whose idea what that? To split up?"

"I…I don't remember. We were low on time, so we just did."

"Where exactly did it happen?"

"The reception building."

"Keep going," Rick prompted him, his stomach squirming as Glenn's voice came across the radio, asking what the problem was.

"Everything was going fine. Nicholas and Carrie had the car…he suddenly turned up and told us what happened."

"And what did he say?"

"Exactly what he told you," Aidan insisted. "She opened a door without him, and they came at her."

Gripping the steering wheel, Rick glanced into the rear view mirror, making eye contact with Carl. "And how did that result in Michonne being left behind too?"

"We didn't leave her behind," he said vehemently. "She practically jumped out of the car. We wanted to get back to the group, she wanted to stay. We didn't leave her behind."

"No, you only left Carrie behind," Rick muttered under his breath, his tone venomous.

There was a short pause, and he could tell Aidan was choosing his words carefully. "She's dead, Rick. Nicholas said he saw her go down, he could hear her screaming. Sorry, but I didn't want to see that."

Holding his tongue, Rick focused on driving. Thankfully his own group hadn't gone too far from Walmart, and they were back there within a few short minutes. Entering the carpark, he brought the car skidding to a stop alongside where they had abandoned the red sedan they no longer needed.

"Carl, get in the front," Rick began, glancing back at him before turning to Aidan. "You, get out."

Wasting no time, he left the car running as he stepped out and gave Aidan a once over, seeing what weapons he had on him. Heading for the truck, Rick climbed up the side steps and reached behind the driver's seat to find what he would need. Jumping down, he thrust a pair of binoculars and another hand held radio at him.

"Get on the cabin, and watch the highway."

"Rick," Aidan began, knowing what he was getting at. "She's not coming back here."

"Get on that truck, and wait for her!" Rick growled at him, clenching his jaw as he resisted the need to drive his instructions home with a well placed punch. "This is your only job!"

Without waiting for his response, Rick headed back to the minivan and got in, slamming the door shut as he reached for the map in the centre console.

"Glenn wants to know what they should do," Carl began. "Abraham too."

"Tell them to stay where they are."

As Carl relayed this instruction, Rick pored his eyes over the map, quickly ascertaining where they were now and where they needed to be. He knew the city centre well enough, but he hadn't been to the outskirts, having not needed to. Pointing out the appropriate details to Carl, he gave him his next task.

"This is where we are now…we're going to turn around and go this direction. Michonne and Carrie are in this retirement village, here. Get us there."

Starting the car, he left Carl in charge of navigating as they took off with squealing tyres, his sharp U-turn rocking them about. In the rear view mirror he caught sight of Aidan climbing on top of the removal truck, and with him on watch he sped off down the highway. He tried not to dwell on how helpless he felt right now, knowing that the only thing he could do was get there as soon as possible. The thought of what had happened, that it had happened to Carrie…he needed to see Michonne. If Carrie was dead, he wasn't going to believe it until it came from the mouth of someone he trusted. There was no doubt in his mind that Michonne would have gone back to look for her, to be absolutely sure that there was no saving her.

"Dad," Carl began softly. "Did you separate Aidan and Nicholas because you think they're lying?"

"Yes."

"Turn right here…no, the next one."

Following his directions, he glanced at Carl. Through the midst of his panic and fear, he was proud of his son's perceptiveness. "What makes you think they're lying?" he asked.

"I don't know. Something. Slow down, let me see the street sign…okay, keep going."

Weaving in and out of abandoned cars and dodging Walkers, their progress was slower than Rick desired, every passing second reminding him of how much time mattered. He told himself again and again to not wait for things, to stop believing that he had all the time in the world…the one occasion that he had taken advantage of an opportunity like Carrie, to open up and share parts of himself with another person, this was what happened.

By now he knew that things happened quickly, that circumstances changed in an instant. Beth had taught them that, taught them to never let their guard down and think it was over, and then Tyreese taught them a second time round. But the lesson never sank in, Rick constantly finding himself relaxed and comfortable, believing that things could be different. He'd felt like that with Carrie, that things were going so well and that they'd keep going well. Once they got back to Alexandria, they'd…well he didn't know what they'd do, or where their secret trysts together would take them…but he'd believed it would happen nonetheless. It just went to show how stupid he was…how juvenile it was to believe that something good could last.

Hitting a clear stretch of road, he lowered the gas pedal and sent them flying, hoping that Carl could keep up with where they were. Following his directions, Rick focused on keeping his breathing steady, on trying to keep himself calm and in control. They finally passed a large sign that read Eastridge, and so Rick turned into the gated retirement village and started looking for any indication of where they would find the recreation centre. He drove slower than he would have liked, almost immediately confused and disoriented. The streets all looked the same, and he drove for over a minute before hitting a dead end. Frustrated, he turned around and headed back the way they had come, but not before taking a good look around, just incase. There were no street signs, no indication of where the reception building might be.

Lowering his window, he prompted Carl to do the same. "Keep an eye out for them."

"Go down here," Carl said suddenly, pointing to their right. "The leaves on the road…they're all messed up."

"Good spot."

Following Carl's lead, Rick headed down that road, the messed up leaves a sure indication that someone had driven a car down this road very recently. Going slowly, they carefully looked around for signs of life, the houses and gardens completely overgrown and making visibility poor. Taking the time to look properly, Rick tried to prepare himself for what they would find. Luck was rarely of his side anymore, and although Carrie was strong, she couldn't take on a group of Walkers if they were all on top of her, pinning her to the ground. He knew he had to be prepared to find her dead…that there was nothing he could do if that was the case.

Rick's heart rate began to increase, suddenly coming across a large number of dead Walkers that lay on the ground, their missing heads indicating that Michonne was nearby. Just as this thought occurred to him the road ahead widened, and suddenly they found themselves passing by a small parking lot. Looking around, he took note of each building until something caught his eye. He slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a lurching halt. Swearing his his palms hit the dash, Carl looked at him in surprise, questioning what he had seen. Not entirely sure, Rick frowned as he got out of the car, peering at the vaulted roof of the reception building. He could have sworn he had seen something there…a brief flash of movement.

"Michonne?" he called out.

Barely a moment later, a head popped up on the vaulted roof, Michonne expertly making her way to the peak. Seeing him, she gave him a quick nod before disappearing again, and so Rick quickly hustled Carl to get out of the car, helping him with his crutches. Together they raced over towards the building, Rick's heart racing when Michonne suddenly appeared around the side.

"Rick," she began urgently, getting straight to the point. "She's alive."

Stopping in his tracks, Rick felt all the breath leaving his body. "Alive?" he questioned weakly.

"Yes. I don't know where she is, or whether she's hurt, but she got out of here."

"She's alive?" he confirmed, engulfed in relief when Michonne nodded. Feeling weak at the knees, he echoed her nod. "S-shit…There's no sign of her?"

"None. I've been up on the roof looking for her, but I can't see much."

Swearing again, he turned around on the spot and looked, imagining Carrie out here on these streets all alone, looking for Nicholas, for all of them. The thought of her all by herself was frightening, though she was armed and capable. Knowing they had to act quickly he took looked over at Carl who still had the radio.

"Call the others, tell them to get over here and start searching. Remind Aidan to stay at Walmart."

As Carl got to his task, Rick turned back to Michonne, his question on the tip of his tongue. "What happened?"

"Difficult to say without talking to Carrie," she said cryptically.

"What do you think happened?" he asked again.

Michonne considered her answer very carefully, looking him in the eye before ushering him to follow her inside the building. Making sure Carl was coming too, Rick followed her inside the reception building, his eyes scanning the room and immediately making an assessment. Observing the first two dead Walkers, he took note of the direction in which they had fallen. Someone had defensively killed them as they backed away, fleeing the building.

"Nicholas said they came at her, and that he couldn't do anything," Michonne began, sweeping past the dead Walkers. She led him towards a long corridor where another Walker lay dead. "Men's room on the left…five dead ones. No Carrie."

Standing at the mouth of the corridor, Rick hesitated before going down there, Michonne's reassurance that he wasn't going to find Carrie's body being the only thing that prompted him to go. On his immediate right was an open door, the stench from inside indicating that this was the door Carrie had supposedly opened without back up. Pausing there, he considered it's proximity to the reception area, trying to picture a scene in which Carrie, fleeing from Walkers, had ended up down the corridor instead of out in the reception.

Glancing back at Michonne, he continued down the corridor, glancing into the only other door that was open. It was an office, the contents of which were relatively undisturbed but for a dark smear on the door. Noting that the smear had been left by a Walker, and recently, he stepped into the office and looked behind the desk. There was an open drawer, a handbag dropped on the floor…the pack of tampons sitting on the centre of the desk indicated someone had been in here to scavenge. Returning to the corridor, he lingered outside the men's room and took out his flashlight, noting the copious blood smears on the door.

The stench of Walkers greeted him straight away, and he grimaced as he shone his flashlight inside and looked around. The restroom was small, consisting of only three cubicles and some sinks, and his attention was immediately taken by the dead Walkers. Stepping inside a little, he looked behind the door and critiqued the bloody foot prints smeared on the tiles, taking in the other evidence on the wall and back of the door. It wasn't difficult for him to see what had happened here, and he pictured the scene playing out in his head.

Putting it all together, he visualised Carrie bracing her foot against the rear wall, trying to hold the door shut as the Walkers pounded on the other side. The severed arm on the floor indicated that she had hacked it off to try and close the door, but after that her strength must have waned, forcing her to seek safety in one of the cubicles. One Walker lay dead by the door, others lay face down halfway under the third cubicle. Observing their positions, he pictured Carrie locking herself inside, using it to protect herself long enough to take the Walkers down one by one.

Coming back out into the corridor, he stood at the very end and looked down it, seeing Michonne and Carl waiting at the other end. Breathing in the fresher air, Rick headed back for the second office where the Walkers had been hidden, trying to picture something that would make Carrie open the door without back up. Despite what Nicholas claimed, Rick just couldn't see her doing that. At the very least she would have knocked on it first, she would have known to do that. While he acknowledged that she was impulsive and rash on occasion, that she was still adjusting to the way their group worked together, doing this was sheer stupidity.

Carrie was many things, but stupid was not one of them…there was only one other person involved in this situation, and they were more than suited to the title of stupid.

Clenching his jaw, Rick glanced at Michonne. "Can you see this happening?"

With one hand on her hip, Michonne slowly shook her head thoughtfully. "No."

Glad they were on the same page, he looked over his shoulder. "What Nicholas said does not make sense. With the direction this door opens, if she was the one to do it then she would have run for the reception, not for a dead end corridor."

"Yes."

"She was back the other office," he thought out loud, gesturing to the other office that was open. "Nicholas opens this door, he makes a run for it into the reception. Carrie gets trapped in the corridor."

"Yes," Michonne agreed after a long pause. "I don't know what time this all happened, but when he found Aidan and I, we'd already been separated from each other almost half an hour. By the time I got in the minivan and realised she wasn't there too, he'd already driven off. We'd almost reached the exit by the time I convinced him to stop and let me out."

Knowing they had wasted enough time already, Rick gave Carl what he hoped was a reassuring nod before they headed for the door.

"Glenn's group are on their way," Carl told him. "They should only be five minutes. Abraham's coming too. He's coming from the north, just in case she goes that way."

"It's been what, maybe an hour since it happened?" Rick said, getting back outside and seeing that it was raining now. "She could be anywhere by now."

"Rick," Michonne began, reassuring him. "She's either going back to Walmart, or she'll find somewhere safe and stay there for the night. She's smart. She won't spend any more time on foot than she has to."

"It's going to be dark soon," he sighed, his stomach twisting in worry. He looked around, feeling as though she was right there, that he was going to find her any second. "We might have less than an hour of light."

"We'll find her," Michonne firmly assured him.

Pausing for a moment, Rick took a deep breath, knowing that letting panic get the better of him wasn't going to help. Despite this, the thought of what had happened to her played in his mind again and again, and he pictured the injuries she might have sustained, the bites that would seal her fate. She wasn't even wearing her jacket, he'd seen it left in the back of the minivan. That at least would have afforded her some protection. Against his will, he pictured the state in which they might find her in a few hours, that she had died and her corpse was shuffling down the road towards him.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Carl? Let's go."

"I'll stay here," Michonne decided, already heading back to the reception building. "I'll keep looking for her from the roof."

"I'll send Daryl this way, we'll see if he can track her."

He and Carl headed for the minivan again, Rick lingering to help him with his crutches. Slamming the door shut, he tossed the crutches into the back before heading for the driver's seat, unsure of where he would even begin searching for Carrie. Choosing to stick to the roads that he knew would lead to the exit, he started in that direction.

"Why didn't she wait here?" Carl asked in concern. Winding down his window, he called out Carrie's name.

"The Walkers," he answered softly, driving over two of the ones Michonne had decapitated. "There were probably too many for her to risk taking on."

"But she should have stayed around here," Carl said in frustration, trying to understand.

Sharing his frustration, Rick nodded his head. "She's scared," he said out loud, feeling the same thing. "Maybe she thought she'd be able to catch up to Nicholas."

"I don't believe him," Carl said harshly, his face twisted into a scowl. "You're right, it doesn't make sense."

When Rick didn't immediately answer, Carl continued.

"What do we do about that? About Nicholas?"

"What do you mean?"

"He left her for dead, and then he lied about it," he said angrily.

Rick thought very carefully before he answered. While he knew exactly what he wanted to do about it, he was also conscious of the fact that this was a moment when Carl was looking to him, learning how to handle situations like this based on his behaviour. The world wasn't simple, he knew that, but he knew Carl was watching and learning more than he realised. Trying to channel Michonne's reassuring attitude, he gave his answer.

"We need to find Carrie," he said, that being their priority. "Everything else can wait."