I looked back over my shoulder at the caravan and my hair whipped me in the face for the thousandth time.

Oh that is it.

Grabbing it, I threw it out of my face so roughly it felt like I may have pulled some of it out.

I gathered my hair up, smoothing it back to pull into a ponytail so it would stop this incessant whipping. My cheeks are stinging. I never thought I could be scratched by own hair before but apparently it's more than possible.

I turned my head so I wouldn't elbow Daryl, and pulled the elastic, looping my hair through until I was satisfied but while I had my hands up, we hit a bump.

I didn't even feel myself falling before I was grabbing Daryl's shoulders.

He started, and I caught his questioning eye in the side mirror. I gave a sheepish apologetic look before his eyes were back on the road and mine moved to the RV in the mirror.

Are they...?

I looked over my shoulder and my mouth made an 'O'. They are, those little shits.

I watched Glenn and Dale laughing at me through the windshield. Glenn's face is turning red, why that little—

I stuck out my tongue and flipped them both off despite a smile creeping at the corners of my own lips and they just laughed harder.

Oh I will remember this, you oompa-loompas. You best watch your backs.

Turning forward again, my hand found Daryl's shoulder once more and it occurred to me how...comfortable he is. Comfortable may be the wrong word, but as far as I can tell he's not uncomfortable.

I've known Daryl for a significant time now, and considering how he is with people standing too close to him, I'm surprised he's alright with my touching him. Even if I don't really have much of a choice.

It's not like we haven't touched before, but it's mostly brief and small like bumping elbows or shoulders. The longest we've ever made physical contact -that I remember- I believe was when I was so drunk I was staggering like a walker.

I don't remember exactly how that went down, but I do remember most of it. I think.

I kept my grip loose, not wanting to make it awkward, or seem like I was invading his space but I do admit to adjusting my strength every so often; just to see how he would react.

Sometimes I let my curiosity get ahead of me, but when am I gonna get another chance like this? This might be my only chance to see just how much rapport we have at the moment.

We've been through alot together, all of us, but it's no secret there are only a handful of people Daryl seems to trust -even on a rudimentary level.

I don't know what I expected from this "experiment" but what I found was interesting. My grip could get steadily tighter over a few minutes and Daryl only glanced at me if my knuckles started to pale. If my grip got suddenly tighter, he glanced almost immediately, actually looking over his shoulder once; I think I pinched a nerve in his shoulder that time though. But what was really surprising was if my grip got too loose, the look he gave me in that mirror could almost be considered a glare. I'm a little afraid to know what he'd do if I let go now.

I don't think I'm gonna test it. He might already be on to me. Those last few looks seemed a little weird. And now my fingers are actually starting to cramp.

The CDC's a loooong way behind us. We've been driving through the countryside for longer than my attention span can handle. Fresh air is great and all, but my nose is really cold now, and even my shoulders have tightened up.

Sitting on the back of a motorcycle isn't the most comfortable to begin with but this bike wasn't built for two in the first place. Plus his crossbows bolts have been stabbing me in the thigh every time we hit a bump for the last 10 miles.

Still, it could be worse. There have been fewer and fewer walkers the farther we've gotten from the city. There's almost none in the stretches between towns.

It's surprising how few cars are on the roads out here. I've seen maybe 4 since we past the last exit to a close town.

Oh, make that five.

I watched the white Subaru pass as we drove by.

Six— seven. Seven since the last town. Eight, no. One, two, three...14.

What the…

I scanned the road in front of us, moving to the side a bit so I could see around Daryl.

Of course things could never go so smoothly for us. Don't know what came over me, thinking things would get even just a smidge easier outside the city.

I stared in frustration at the road -or rather the traffic jam- ahead of us.

Daryl's speed dropped under 30, as he maneuvered between the cars.

The further we got in the more cars I saw piled up in our way. Ah geez.

I turned and motioned for Dale to stop over my shoulder, just before Daryl headed for a gap only a bike could fit through, there's a larger space on the other side of the truck but I assume he plans to circle around.

We moved slow through the cars, searching for a way through but I can't see clearly from here, so I found two footholds on the bike that won't melt my boots or break anything and stood up.

"What're you doin?" Daryl glanced over his shoulder before glancing up, then back at the road.

Haven't you ever heard of bird's eye view, Daryl?

I looked around from my new vantage point, using Daryl's shoulders to stabilize myself and allowing my knees to bend and absorb shock with the bike's movement.

Not the safest thing in the world but a lot better than getting off and going through here on foot. Who knows what could be hiding behind these cars.

It's weird though, I don't see any walkers. All these cars and not a single walker...It puts me on edge.

"See anythin'?" Daryl asked, avoiding debris on the asphalt.

A gap big enough for the RV caught my vision and I tapped Daryl's shoulder, pointing.

He nodded and I sat back down as he began to circle back.

Coming up along the driver side of the RV, Daryl stopped as Dale leaned out the window.

"See a way through?"

I nodded and Daryl jerked his head to let Dale know to follow. He circled the RV and got back in front, following the same path we did before, aside from opting to take the larger gaps this time.

The first time through wasn't so bad but this is making my skin crawl now. I'm even more anxious going through a second time, even though we cleared it, because if we somehow missed something huge, we can't just zip outta here.

We'll be trapped between the RV and this sea of abandon cars, and we don't have a lot of protection from whatever—

A loud pop behind us made me jump and snap my head to the side, looking over my shoulder to find out what was going on.

Smoke spewed out of the front of the RV, while the engine sputtered. The RV stopped and Daryl drifted forward a few feet before stopping as well and turning off the motorcycle.

My foot touched the ground and I swung my leg over, standing up. The asphalt felt weird under my boots after riding for so long.

My legs feel almost numb, like they're still vibrating from the engine but at least I can finally stretch; and stretch I did.

I linked my fingers and pulled my arms all the way up and as far back as I could without falling over.

The deep muscle in my shoulders stretched, relieving the tension, and the sore stiffness just melted away. Running down to restore feeling into my legs.

Releasing my fingers, I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms individually before grabbing my backpack and heading back towards the RV.

"Okay, that was dumb." Dale looked around, while I pulled my arms through the bag straps.

Daryl caught up to me a second later and as soon as I stopped, he started digging through the back of an open car.

"Can't find a radiator hose here" Shane looked around. I'm not sure if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not.

"There's a whole buncha stuff we could find." Daryl dug through a bag he found in the trunk.

"Syphon more fuel from these cars for a start." T-Dog walked past me and I turned to follow over to another car just next to Daryl.

"Maybe some water" Carol suggested hopefully. Water should be our priority in terms of resource gathering, but fuel is equally as valuable now— maybe even more so.

"Food" Glenn chimed in.

I pulled a golf club out of the backseat of the car and swung it at a rock, sending the pebble sailing into the forest, just yards from the edge of the road.

"This is a graveyard." I looked at Lori who looks like she's gonna be sick.

"I don't know how I feel about this."

I looked at Daryl and seems like we're thinkin' the same thing: Is she serious?

This could be a gold mine, a damn buffet. And it's not like these people need this stuff anymore. No one's gonna miss it and we need it.

I get why this may not sit well, I do, but morality takes a backseat to survival. It has to, or there won't be anyone left to distinguish the difference.

"Alright people, look around. Gather what you can." Shane instructed. At least he has some common sense left.

I shrugged it off, not wanting to hold anything against her. She's had the cosiest -before- life of most everyone here. In fact, most of us from what I understand, don't have the luxury to think about death as sorrowful. Before or now.

Some of us, I glanced back at Daryl, might be better prepared for this world than others; but in truth, we could benefit from some to remind us there is a difference. And where the line is.

I glanced at Lori, and Dale. Glenn, Rick. I don't understand how through all of this, their moral compasses have remained on the right track but I'd be lying if I said I don't envy it.

I went to do what I do best; wander off to find something interesting, useful, or preferably both.

Survival has always come before morality for me but I don't believe I've strayed. If I have, I don't remember.

All I can do, I guess is...keep going and hope my compass still points north.

I wandered a lot further than everyone else, peeking into cars until I found one that caught my attention. There are bodies in some of them and I tapped on a few of the windows but they're not walkers. Just dead.

I'm supposed to be searching through cars like the others but I'm doing a walker check first. I'd rather no surprises, or at the very least an advanced warning.

I crouched down next to a car and pulled out my tool pack from my bag.

I can probably jiggle this one open. I can't remember the last time I did unlocked a car though. It must've been...I don't know, high school?

I chose my picks and slid them into the keyhole. It took a minute or two but the door unlocked and I opened it.

Footsteps caught my ear and I pulled my knife. My eyes caught on Daryl and T-Dog who were looking at me strangely.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" T-Dog stared at me. I glanced down at the lock picks in my hand before smiling and waving my hand as nonchalant as possible.

"Damn, you just full'a surprises, ain't you?" T-Dog shifted.

I think it best if I don't share that particular experience. I wonder what happened to that kid. He got transferred after he was arrested for the third time.

He told me to keep practising and I'd get it eventually -which I did- but damn maybe he was right about keeping my skill sharp. You really never do know when picking a lock will come in handy.

Daryl busted open a car's gas cap with a crowbar, jolting me back to the present and T-Dog began syphoning fuel from the car.

I reached into the back and opened the back door of the car I'd chosen and grabbed the bag off the backseat; the bag responsible for my getting into the car in the first place.

Daryl walked past me and went to another car while I dug through this one.

The bag had been what I was after but there was nothing useful in it. And I had such high hopes for this bad boy.

I moved to the driver's seat and reached over to the glove box, to test my luck.

It seems luck is being suspiciously gracious to me today.

I pulled the compass out and whipped the dust off the face with my thumb. Pursing my lips I produced a low whistle.

I held the compass up eye level. Shiny. Somebody doesn't— didn't skimp on the survival gear. This is the nicest compass I've ever seen.

T-Dog grabbed my leg but he was covered in blood and I jolted, ready to bash his face in with this damn compass.

"We gotta go"

He pulled me out of the car but while I was checking our 6, T-Dog was already ahead of me.

I went after him, trying to figure out what the Hell was going on and a walker stumbled out right in front of me.

It was facing the other way, so it didn't see me as I veered right and ducked behind a truck.

I moved towards the back of the end of the truck so I could see around it and walkers were everywhere, stumbling right past me. I must be downwind if they haven't noticed me when we're this close.

Cautiously, I slipped under the guard rail behind me and slid down the small hill as quiet as I could manage. I made it to the bottom, quick scanning the treeline before I ducked into the forest.

That was too close. Where did T-Dog go— I swear to God T if you're not okay, I'll kill you myself. That goes for you too Daryl. Wherever you are.

Watching the walkers trudge along the road from the treeline was nerve-wracking. Every second I wanted to run through the forest alongside them and find out where T-Dog ran to and if he was okay. Where Daryl was, and the others too but that's a surefire way to get myself killed. Then I'm no good to anyone, so I waited out of sight until I hadn't seen one in several minutes.

Careful in slipping out of the forest and back up to the road, I made my way back towards the RV, without so much as a sound; looking for anyone, listening to every sound to indicate where someone might be— especially if they're in trouble.

When I got back to the RV, relief dropped my shoulders from their tense state. Everyone was back there.

Daryl spotted me coming up and motioned for me to follow him. Most of the others looked towards me and relief flashed through their faces.

I didn't consider they may have been just as worried about me as I was about them.

I jumped the guardrail as Glenn, Shane, Rick, and Daryl were headed into the forest and I slid down the grassy hill, catching up. I jogged up next to them and fell into step beside Daryl.

What's goin on? What are we doing venturing off into the forest, just the five of us?