There's enough here to last all of us for a couple of days — thank god.

We got Hella lucky finding this place. But I wouldn't count on it happening again.

Winter's coming and I'm concerned.

But there isn't much than keep us warm. It's not exactly a depot for clothing — and I knew that — but I thought they'd at least have emergency blankets or something, but there isn't so much as a pair of itchy awful knitted gloves.

I picked up my 4th and final basket of supplies to take next door, just some basic cleaning supplies which if I remember high school chemistry right, I should be able to mix and either make them a little more potent, or flammable. Soooo, we'll see how that goes.

I did pick up some crappy pink backpack — you know the kind 5 year olds use? — and ahem, head over to the feminine section (which I didn't even remember they had until I saw it). I took the liberty of filling this little backpack with as many products as were on the shelves. Until it occurred to me that if the boxes get wet or the packages torn, the products will be useless.

And before you ask, yes I just spent the last 10 minutes sitting criss cross on the floor of an abandoned dollar tree, with a light pink rainbow covered backpack, ripping open more than a dozen boxes of feminine hygiene products and dumping them inside ziplock bags before tucking them into the bag.

T-Dog came looking for me just a few minutes ago and saw what I was doing — at least it wasn't Daryl — and I still can't get the look on his face out of my head.

He was soo red and I've never seen someone stammer so much before just giving up and leaving.

Daryl did however come to find out what the Hell was taking me so long right after I finished.

He held the door as I followed him out and handed off the basket to Beth who was taking it and one other inside the bookstore up to our little set up on the second floor.

"Eve, Daryl" I turned, watching Rick motion us over to him and Hershel.

I handed the pink backpack off to Lori as I passed her — and she looked at me strangely for the lack of explanation of why — going with Daryl to the other two.

She's smart, I'm pretty sure she can figure out why I gave it to her, without me having to explain.

"What's up?" Daryl leaned against the car as I sat on the hood next to him. I know I'll probably have to get back up in a second but I'll take all the time off my feet I can get.

"Take Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, and Randall and clear these other stores, look for anything we can use."

I nodded and went to get off the hood but Daryl stopped me. "Stay 'ere, I'll get 'em."

Rick walked back into the store with Daryl, while Hershel turned to me. "Let me take a look at you in the meantime."

I lowered my shirt after Hershel finished prodding my ribs again, as the others came out, ready to go raid some more stores.

I slid off the hood as Daryl raised an eyebrow at Hershel.

"She's healing, but it's gonna take time."

Daryl nodded and I was finally allowed to get the ground back under my boots.

The 6 of us headed over to the next store beside Dollar Tree and Daryl took point, glancing at me, "Eve, you got our 6. Maggie, Glenn, you got the left. T, Kid you got right."

Most of us nodded before getting into position.

At least there'll be plenty of weapons in the hardware store. And tools. Never underestimate the usefulness of a tool. Especially something like a pocket multitool or bolt cutters. Which I hope to god are inside cause we could really use those.

Clearing the rest of the stores was relatively easy and we found a lot. There were only 6 or 7 more walkers divided up between the stores.

I might've been a little peeved about getting banished to the back but I don't actually mind watching the rear — thaaaat came out wrong.

We've all been wandering between the stores for the last hour now, collecting our own things.

We put a couple toolboxes in each of the cars.

It makes me wary how untouched these stores are but to be honest, when I think about it, a lot of places could be untouched.

Places like this, that were too far out of the way to be noticed or not nice enough pickings to be worth it.

Little pockets and corners that have been overlooked.

I pushed the door to the clothing store open again.

This is the closest place here where we might be able to find clean clothes, warm stuff, maybe even things like blankets if we're lucky.

It's not a huge store. You can see over all the racks and there's only like 3 or 4 racks for each section (mens, juniors, womens, kids, etc).

I let my hand graze some of the fabrics as I passed a shirt rack. Headed towards the other women in the group. Carol, Lori, Maggie, Beth. All of them looking for something more appealing to wear than blood, sweat, and dirt — and probably some tears — covered grimy rags.

I would never have paid money for this stuff, but it's better than what I have on now.

Still, I'm not crazy about the cheap quality. They won't last long. Which means we'll have to find more sooner. Then again, we probably should be changing our clothes more often. They're practically petri dishes with all the blood we get on them everyday.

Microfiber and spandex blends would be nice. Water & liquid resistant — more so than cotton at least —, will keep us cool but still insulated, etc.

There's no supplementing for quality gear. I mean, take my knives for example. Would me and Glenn have gotten this far if I'd had a pocket knife instead of these things?

I looked around a bit, trying to find the most functional stuff I could, in my size (if it was there; if not, I grabbed the closest thing to it) and believe me it wasn't easy.

I slipped into the changing room next to Beth after I finally found some stuff, and started peeling out of the disgusting things I've been wearing.

It hurt to lift and twist and reach and — everything, but I didn't realize just how bad I smell until I managed to get my shirt off.

I gagged, flinging it into the corner of the little bench, faaaaar away from me.

I'm not crazy about tight fitted stuff, makes me feel constricted, but It's better than getting grabbed. I managed to find some military looking pants — semi-fitted cargo jeans with big pockets on the thighs — and some plain cotton black t-shirts. Frankly, it's my style.

It'd be better if it wasn't white camo but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Or in this case, looters of a cheap shop can't complain.

After I got my shirt on again, I leaned against my palms on the door, trying not to breathe too hard.

I don't know how long I stood there until someone gently knocked on the door and I flinched.

"You ok in there?" Lori.

I pushed off the door and opened it, giving her a smile.

She gave me a once over, like scanning me to see if I was lying.

She smiled softly and motioned me out. I left my gross clothes as we made our way back into the store and veered to the right as soon as I spotted a big coat.

Winter stuff.

Hats, gloves, big coats, sweaters — picking up a nice sweatshirt for myself after remembering from before when I had thought about it. Etc. I made sure to grab a few that look like they'd fit Carl, Beth, and Randall too, and went to go find them.

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