Chapter 45: Help

After a good half hour of searching every structure on the property from top to bottom, everyone was at a loss. Carol and Andrea had questioned Lydia and Dylan again, asking them both to remember exactly where they saw Henry last, but their stories remained the same.

"Where could he be?" Carol choked out, running her fingers through her hair as she paced the front porch.

"You're sure you didn't see anyone go out the gate?" Andrea asked Ben, the young man who'd been on gate duty.

"No. Nobody," he stammered. "Just Daryl and Merle in the truck."

Andrea sighed then, and Carol gasped softly.

"Shit," she bit out. "Oh shit."

"What?" Andrea asked.

"The truck."

"What?"

"What if he got in the truck?" Carol asked.

"The back was packed full of stuff." She stopped then, and her eyes went wide. She met Carol's gaze, and at the same time, the two women took off toward the gates. Andrea reached out and grabbed Carol's hand, stopping her. "What are you doing?"

"He's out there. Daryl and Merle don't even…"

"We don't know he's out there. And you have no business going out there."

"I'm not…" Carol sighed heavily and felt a twinge of pain in her back. She placed her hand there, and Andrea pulled her arm around her.

"Come sit down." Carol nodded then, following Andrea's lead to the nearest porch stoop. "Want me to get Denise?"

"No. No, it'll pass." She winced then, and Andrea knelt down in front of her.

"I'll go."

"What?"

"I'll go. They can't be far. Where do they usually go to hunt?"

"They stay within ten miles. They went north last time. They probably headed west" Carol took a deep, shaking breath. She looked up to see concern creasing Andrea's brow, and she shook her head. "I'm ok. I am. But you shouldn't go out there."

"I know how to take care of myself. And I know you do, too. But I'm not asking." Carol nodded then, and Andrea squeezed her shoulder. "Let's get you home, ok?" Carol nodded then, and Andrea helped her stand. "Any more pain?"

"No. I'm fine."

"You're not lying to me?"

"I'm not lying."

"Okay, because if I come back and find out you were lying, I'll have to kick your ass. Only, maybe after you have the baby."

"You'd lose," Carol pointed out with a chuckle, as she and Andrea walked back toward the Dixon home.

"Probably," Andrea laughed. "Merle tells me you're a badass."

"He said that?" Carol asked.

"Yeah, I think he has a thing for you," Andrea teased. Carol snorted and shook her head.

"We both know who he's got a thing for, and it's not me." She looked at Andrea, and Andrea rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the blush that filled her cheeks.

Lydia, Dylan and Luke were all on the front porch when Carol and Andrea arrived.

"I told you guys to stay inside," Carol scolded.

'We got worried," Lydia insisted. "Did you find Henry?"

"No, Lyddie," Carol sighed.

"We couldn't find him either, Mom," Dylan said softly, looking to Andrea.

"It's ok," Andrea assured him. "Hey, I need you to stay here with Carol, ok? Would you go inside and get her some water, please?" Dylan nodded. "Thanks, baby." Dylan hurried inside, and Lydia took Carol's hand.

"Mommy, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Carol promised. "Just overdid it a little." She sat down on the porch swing, and Lydia and Luke scrambled up to sit with her. Dylan returned with a bottle of water and handed it to Carol.

"Thank you." She took a sip and put the cap back on, while Andrea knelt in front of her son.

"I need you to stay here for a little bit, ok?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to look for Henry. I'm going outside, but I won't be gone long."

"No! You can't go out there," Dylan panicked, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck. "Don't go."

"Honey, I have to go look. I won't go alone. I promise. And I'll be back very soon."

"Uh…we have a problem." Andrea looked up to see Tara hurrying over. "Big problem. Huge." Tara motioned toward the front of the property. "We, uh, we got a pretty big build up. I guess the commotion looking for Henry attracted them."

"Shit." Carol looked to Andrea and then to Tara. "How many?"

"About two dozen. They're blocking the gate. Nobody's getting out until we take them out and get the bodies out of the way."

"Alright." Andrea sighed and stood. "Tara, how good of a shot are you?"

"I'm good. I know how that sounds. But I am." Andrea looked to Carol who nodded in agreement.

"Alright. You're with me. Grab your weapon, meet me at the gate in five minutes." Tara nodded then.

"She ok?" she asked, looking to Carol, who was wiping the sweat from her brow.

"I'm fine," Carol insisted. "Everything's fine. Go." When Tara finally turned to leave, Andrea looked to Dylan.

"Dyl, stay with Carol, Lydia and Luke. I'll be back soon."

"Ok," he agreed, as she leaned down to pull him into a hug.

"I love you. More than anything." He nodded then, and she kissed the top of his head. With that, she turned and hurried back to her house to grab her gun.

"Mommy, I'm scared," Lydia whispered, curling up against her mother. Carol pulled her arm around the girl and pulled her close.

"I know. I am, too." She closed her eyes then, feeling the salt of tears burn her eyes. She felt her heart begin to pound again as echoes of another life began to ring through her memories. She could still remember Sophia's terrified face as she and Carl hid under that car. She could still hear her whimpering as that walker went after her. She could still remember the last glimpse of her daughter's terrified face before she disappeared down that ravine and out of her life forever.

...

The old, dirt road was almost impassible, but Merle managed to navigate it without popping a tire. By the time they got stopped about a half mile from where he remembered the fishing hole being, Daryl looked annoyed and ready to go back home.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Darylina?" Merle asked. Daryl glared at his brother.

"You can't drive for shit."

"I got us here, didn't I?" Merle snorted.

"Yeah. Good look getting us back without dropping the engine. Swear to Christ this road's got more potholes than the street we grew up on." Just before Merle could cut the engine, the pickup backfired. "God damn it. Now we're gonna have walkers on our ass."

"C'mon. We'll move up the road a ways."

"Let's get back. Gonna have to stop takin' the truck. It's gonna leave us stranded one of these days."

"We got plenty of light left. Let's get up there, get the fish and…"

"This was s'posed to be a huntin' trip. We didn't come all the way out here to catch a goddamn fish. You wanna impress Andrea, do it on your own time." Merle stared at him for a moment, and Daryl huffed, looking out the other window.

"Just grab your shit, baby brother. We'll do this fast."

"You're gonna get us killed."

"You wanna stay here? I'll go. You wait here and yell if there's any trouble."

"I ain't waitin' in the damn truck," Daryl muttered, opening his door and stepping out. He shut it quietly and looked around, seeing no sign of walkers, much to his relief. But when he stepped around the back of the truck, he noticed something right away. Little foot prints leading off into the woods. "Shit."

"What's the matter?" Merle asked, stepping around the truck.

"We didn't leave alone." Daryl nodded toward the small footprints, and Merle knelt down to get a closer look.

"Goddamn, we got ourselves a stowaway?" Daryl quickly pulled back the tarp, looking through the supplies Merle had loaded, looking for any sign of their little guest. "One of yours?"

"No. Don't think so," Daryl murmured. "Judgin' by the shoe size, I gotta say it's Henry or Dylan."

"Hell, it ain't Dylan. Kid's terrified about goin' back outside those walls. Meanwhile, Henry's still waitin' on his daddy to come back inside 'em."

"Jesus," Daryl muttered. "We gotta get to him 'fore a walker does." He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, while Merle grabbed a shotgun. He rummaged around the back of the truck, coming out with the first crude prosthetic he'd made after losing his hand. The knife on the end was still sharp, and as he placed it on the stump at his wrist, he looked at Daryl.

"Ain't had much need for this in a long time. But, I don't generally leave home without it." Daryl nodded, and he turned to start off following the footprints, hoping they'd find their little stowaway sooner rather than later.

The more they walked, the more obvious it became that they were trailing Henry. Dylan had lived outside the walls long enough to know how to cover tracks and how to get through dense foliage on the ground. These tracks were clumsy and uncertain. And at one point, they began making a wide circle. Daryl began to wonder if he himself might get lost.

"Smart kid. Headin' toward the fishin' hole," Merle mumbled.

"He don't even know about the fishin' hole. He's just walkin' and tryin' to get himself lost."

"Bravest kid I ever seen."

"Brave? Jesus Christ, this kid don't even know what's out here. He's never been outside the walls." He stopped and listened for any sign of movement. Nothing. "Henry!" He watched the trail curve around the base of a huge pine tree, and he followed it carefully. "Never thought I'd be out in the woods lookin' for a damn kid again."

"You need to discipline that boy."

"I ain't his dad."

"Sure you are. 'Til his own old man comes back, you're it. He's sleepin' under your roof, listenin' to your bedtime stories. You're as much that boy's daddy as his own would be if he was home." Daryl looked at his brother. "The kid lost his mom, and not long after that, his dad took off. He's stayin' with you folks, but that ain't gonna take away what he's lost. How many stories you tell him about the woods? Kid's grown up behind walls. He probably wanted to know why his dad left the safety of the walls to come out here." Daryl said nothing. Merle had a good point. Still, Henry knew better than to sneak out like that. He'd heard stories about the monsters all of his life. All of the little ones behind the walls knew about the monsters and why the walls were so important.

"Henry!" Daryl called again.

The crunch of leaves close by alerted them that they weren't alone. Daryl turned, aiming his crossbow as he looked carefully for any sign of danger.

"Henry! It's Daryl and Merle. If you're close, let us know!" Then he heard a whimper and another fluttering of leaves. Daryl looked to Merle and nodded, silently motioning for Merle to make a wide circle around one way while he went the other.

It was then they heard the growls, and Daryl felt his heart skip a beat.

"God damn it," he bit out. "Henry! It's ok! We're close!" The whimpers turned into frightened screams, and Daryl and Merle both took off sprinting through the woods, weapons aimed as the growls of walkers and screams of a terrified child beckoned them.

But just as quickly as they'd started running, they stopped in their tracks when the screaming and growling was silenced by a single gunshot. Merle and Daryl, at least ten yards apart, looked at each other before taking off running once again.

A gnarled, old tree soon came into view. It was hallowed out on one side just enough for a small child to fit inside. But when Daryl reached it first, it was empty. Just a few feet away was the still corpse with a oozing gunshot wound through its forehead.

"Henry!" Daryl called.

"He's ok!" A male voice came from close by. "He's alright. Put down your weapons, and we'll give you your boy back!"

"Bullshit!" Merle growled breathlessly, catching up to Daryl.

"Henry!" Daryl yelled. "You ok?" He heard shuffling from close by and turned toward the sound. The boy sniffled, and then he heard his voice.

"I'm ok. I'm sorry!" Daryl and Merle caught each other's gazes.

"Look, we were fishing in the area and heard the kid. We don't want any trouble. Just…please, put your weapons down, and we'll come out!" Merle started to move toward the voice, but Daryl reached out, putting his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"We don't know how many there are. Just do it," Daryl whispered.

"I only hear one man."

"Don't be stupid," Daryl growled. "Do it." Merle bit back the urge to either slug his brother in the nose or punch a nearby tree, and he tossed his shotgun to the ground. For good measure, he removed the prosthetic from his hand and tossed it into the dirt. Daryl slid the strap of his crossbow from his shoulder and put the weapon on the ground. He held his hands out up.

"Come forward. Away from the weapons." Merle shot a glare at Daryl, but Daryl took the first step forward.

"Henry, you're ok?" he called.

"I'm ok!" Henry called back. Daryl and Merle took a few cautious steps toward Henry's voice, and in a moment, Henry came rushing out from behind a thick bush. He ran, his face splotchy from crying, and he practically knocked Daryl over with the force behind his hug.

"Hey, it's ok," Daryl murmured, hugging the boy. Henry choked out a sob, as Daryl lifted him up. Henry's arms hugged him tightly around the neck, and Daryl took a deep breath and bit back the urge to yell at the boy for doing something so stupid and for scaring the shit out of them. But as the boy broke down crying, he didn't have the heart.

"You gonna hide in the bushes, or are you gonna come out?" Merle asked, peering at the moving leaves on the bush. In a moment, a small handgun was tossed out in plain sight, and seconds later, two hands were visible, held up to show there was no danger.

"I'm coming out!" he called, stepping out from behind the bush and into sight. Daryl heard a dry laugh fall from Merle's lips, and when he looked forward to see the man stepping out into sight, his gaze locked on the surprised gaze of Henry's savior.

"Holy shit," Merle laughed. "Look what the cat dragged in." Merle wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and turned to Daryl. The younger man took a few steps forward, narrowing his gaze on the two men and young Henry.

"Oh my God," the younger man said. Daryl opened his mouth to speak but closed it again before finally choking out the ghost of a word he hadn't uttered in years.

"Glenn?"