My hands started to shake. My heartbeat proving it could go faster yet.

My mouth shrivelled of moisture like the Bonneville salt flats.

My throat closed up but it had nothing to do with the murky water surrounding me.

Dread swelled in my chest and spread like wildfire until it physically hurt and I couldn't breathe.

Needles pierced the lining of my lungs with every breath.

My head spun and I swayed.

I can't— I'm about pass out.

Instead of calming down, like I should have, I started to panic like an animal caught in a net.

I violently pulled myself in every direction that could possibly lead to freedom from the tangling stringy roots, with the newfound wiggle room I'd created.

My skin crawled, overwhelming my brain with sensations of hands, and tiny spiny legs.

Forcing myself free of roots, I sank in an instant. The water rose to my jaw. My feet touched the bottom and I stood on my toes, forcing myself to stop thrashing and let the water settle.

The water stopped just short of my bottom lip. Everywhere I looked increased the urge to violently struggle again.

Thinking fast, I grabbed my locket and brought it up above the water, where I could see it clearly and meticulously began inspecting the small patterns in the metal.

Breathe. Just breathe. Don't think, breathe.

Uh—...oh, that concert I saw for my birthday.

What band was playing? The Script, wasn't it?

The words, remember the words…

She's stronger than you know

A heart of steel starts to grow

I swallowed thickly, attempting to force myself to relax, even if it's futile. I quietly began to hum the tune as I remember it.

When you've been fighting for it all your life

You've been struggling to make things right

It's how a superhero learns to fly

My shoulders relaxed but didn't stop shaking.

Everyday, every hour turn the pain into power

I have no idea how much time I spent humming the same verse over and over, but my fingers were wrinkling before I wasn't on the cusp of a panic attack.

I sucked in a deep breath and ducked underneath the water. Going to the bottom, I used some of the roots to anchor myself and swift but carefully I dragged my hand along the bottom; searching for my knife.

I could feel my focus slipping back to panic the longer I held my breath and as soon as I grabbed something that didn't feel natural, I resurfaced.

I chaotically emerged from the water, gasping and grabbing onto another root to raise myself out as much as possible.

Wiping my eyes with my dripping hand, I splashed the object in the water, removing enough of the mud to recognize it.

I felt calmer already, just having the familiar blade in my hand feels like I can think clearly again.

I swished it off completely in the settling water until it was clean(enough) before securing it in my thigh sheath. Where it belongs.

Okay. I've got this. It's gonna be alright. I'm safe enough for now. I just, just need to get out of here.

I blew a slow breath from my mouth, clenching my fists that by no means still have a tremor. The— the water's just cold.

One more breath, then I'm gonna look up. In...and out.

Tilting my head skyward, I dug up the courage to open my eyes and forced my breath through my nose, running through my very limited options.

It's hard to ignore the fact my hands are numb and I feel like I'm sinking the longer I stare up.

I blew the water off my lips, pushing a clump of wet stringy hair off my chin.

Larger roots cover most of the wall near the top. If I have to guess, I'd say it's about a 10 foot climb to the top. Not including the 5 & a ½ or so feet of water here at the bottom.

I reached up, making a grab for the roots above me. Slick slime coating the thin bark made it slide right off the root everywhere I grabbed.

Getting a solid grip that lasted more than a few seconds proved near impossible after the fifteenth try but two more and I finally got a decent enough hold to pull myself almost all the way out of the water; if you could even call it that anymore.

I brought my foot up, my knee almost touching my chest again, and dug the toe of my boot into the dirt along the wall, reaching for the next root. The dirt shifted a bit but didn't give way while I took a bracing breath and hoisted myself up to repeat it.

I climbed maybe 3 feet before my foothold crumbled and the slick root I was holding onto, betrayed me.

I plunged back into the water, barely getting under the surface before my feet hit the bottom and stuck.

Panic struck through me and I launched myself towards the surface without a thought; nearly pulling off one of my shoes but thankfully I didn't lose 'em in the glue-like mud.

As if my circumstances aren't unfavorable enough as is. If I have to fish for my shoes, I don't think I could stave off another attack.

Roughly pushing my drenched tangled hair out of my face, I coughed some water out of my throat and grabbed another root with my frozen shaking fingers, starting over.

Daryl's POV

I looked at the sky for the third time in ten minutes. Eve should'a been 'ere by now— Hell, she should'a been waitin' for me.

She could'a found somethin'.

If she found somethin', she still would'a been 'ere before me.

My gut twisted as I scanned the trees again, looking for a dark figure and amber eyes but once again there was an unsettling lack of just that.

Eve can take of 'erself...usually. For someone so quiet she attracts an awful lot a trouble.

I never expected 'er to fall out of a damn tree.

The knot in my gut tightened second by second until I'd worn a line through the leaves on the ground and into the mud; thinking about those bruises.

She was havin trouble breathin the whole way back to the highway. She couldn't even get in the damn car yesterday.

I looked around again, before looking up to check the sky but I found myself fixated on the tree above me.

That sound when she hit the ground...

My grip tightened on my crossbow as I stared up through the trees.

I finally checked my crossbow and started off; giving into the feeling I've had since I showed up and she wasn't here.

Eve's POV

I dug my foot into the dirt wall once again but it broke a massive chunk off and I barely managed to keep my grip.

My hands and feet are caked in layers of mud. The water at the bottom's turned to thick sludge.

I can't afford to fall for a 6th time. Each time I do, it gets harder and harder to pull myself out. The mud's adding weight to my mass, making it harder to move, and even harder to hold onto the already slick mass of roots.

The one thing it's been good for, is keeping the bugs from biting me. I'm just glad there aren't any snakes in this pit.

Unfortunately, my luck could be a whole lot worse but what little I've had so far seems to be fading with the light.

It's gonna be dark soon and there's no chance I'll be able to climb out of here then.

I'm not optimistic that I could survive a night down here either. And that's assuming it doesn't start raining, or walkers decide to drop in uninvited, or I don't get hypothermia which I think I might already be headed for.

If I do make it through a night, there's almost a guarantee this cut on my forehead will get infected if it isn't already. I could get sick, I could drown if I fall asleep, I could starve to death down here— but more likely I'll die of thirst. Oh the irony in that.

Latching my leg around a thick branch, I stopped to rest for a second, looking up to see how far I am from rim.

7 or 8 feet by the looks of it.

I pulled my gun out now that I was high enough and threw it up and out. It's useless to me right now. It's so full of mud I doubt the hammer would even cock— and even if it did I wouldn't risk firing it at this point.

I've never made it this high before I might actually get out of here this time.

I grabbed one of the largest roots near the top but my victory was short lived. A slick, followed by a 7 foot drop and a 'shplunk' put me right back at square muddy one.

My hands shot out of the "water" grabbing onto the roots for dear life. As soon as I broke the surface, I coughed up mud for a solid minute, gasping in between fits. Tremors wracked my body from cold, exhaustion, and the ever-looming possibility of a panic attack at any moment.

I did black out for a bit around the 3rd try but seeing as I'm still alive, and it's still light out, it couldn't have been that long, and it clearly wasn't a full blown attack.

I pushed my filthy and tangled long hair out of my equally as grimy face for about the hundredth time. The usual soft quality of the strands has long been replaced with the feeling of thousands of tiny roots, like the ones from the walls. Hundreds of tiny threads winding themselves together to create nets over my skin and hinder me as much as possible.

I don't know what the Hell happened to my hair tie but it's the least of my worries right now.

I tried to scrape the mud off my hands on the bark but it had nowhere near the effect I hoped.

My hands have been shaking non-stop for the last ten minutes. Before, I could feel how cold they were but for the last half hour I haven't been able to feel much of anything in my fingers, temperature wise.

I took a minute to breathe before I climbed again. The first 5 or so feet have gotten easy, I've done it enough times to clear a decent path to follow but after that, it gets rocky again -on occasion- literally.

The suffocating must of dirt, dust, and different kinds of rot mixing my climb dislodged is almost unbearable and on three separate occasions, it forced me to stop and breathe through the mud-caked fabric of my shirt in hopes of getting some degree of fresh air into my burning lungs and stinging throat.

I can't even count how many times I've weighed the risk of drinking the water in here but the last straw always comes back to the fact it's practically walker soup and I've almost puked twice thanks to it.

The higher I get, the more careful I am about where I grab, and where I place my feet.

I got barely two feet from the top when a snap made me freeze. For a moment I thought another root had broken and expected the falling sensation I am way too used to, but on some level I already knew that sound wasn't me; It came from above.

Please just be a squirrel. For all of deities creations, please be a squirrel.

Panic set in and a cold sweat ran down the back of my neck, making me shiver.

That shiver flipped the switch in my brain from 'Freeze' to 'Move your ass'.

I reached for my next hold and tugged to make sure it would hold(only needed to learn that lesson twice) before I raised my knee to my shoulder and found my next sturdy foothold. If I fall now, there's no chance in Hell it won't be heard above by whatever is up there.

I'm close enough to the top now I can almost see out.

I reached for a root just below the rim and looked down to locate my next foothold.

I reeled as something wrapped around my wrist, nearly screaming. My head snapped up, my hand already fumbling for my knife and half a thought to pull it down with me, and I almost lost hold of the roots before I froze.