Any time I can just copy and paste a chunk of writing into these chapters is freaking euphoric man. I've been having two windows open so I can read along the old versions while typing out the new ones. I am slowly learning I have a major issue with editing/rewrites. I keep feeling like I need to redo everything like a weirdo haha. Fingers crossed to have another chapter out today as I think I'm getting close to some bits where I just wanted to expand the story and not just straight up rewrite stuff.

Italics = German

Alana wondered to herself if the bells they'd heard could have been the group. Surely they couldn't have already been up and searching the woods, could they? No, no she didn't see how they could. She mentally went through the people one by one and then stopped when her thoughts came upon the man named Daryl. He could have been awake when they left. Wilhelm had told her crossbows and those impressive bows she'd see in the Olympics were used for hunting in the states usually. She hadn't been so sure when he'd told her, but all the bows in the hunting stores and such made her reconsider. The man had seemed as if he knew what he was doing with the crossbow. He at least knew which bolts to use for his, she begrudgingly thought.

As they continued heading away from the caravan back on the road Wilhelm eventually checked his watch for the time. The time must have suited some part of his plan as he swung a pack to his side, reaching in to retrieve a bottle of water. Taking a few deep swigs he held the bottle out for Alana to do the same before returning it to his pack.

"Watch the woods, I'll watch the road," he told her, hiking the packs up on his back to ensure they were as steady as they'd get. Alana quickly realized he intended for them to pick up the pace. A jog through the woods was not how Alana envisioned their morning would turn out.

With moments of proper safety slim to none, just a brisk walk was a risk. Jogging and running? Both could easily be a death sentence. On the road it would have been somewhat easier, a flat surface to move over. But having to stick to the woods with its uneven ground was certain to spend their energy in record time. No amount of shade from the treetops would do them any good with keeping them cool either, at least not for very long. The provided coolness was cancelled out by Georgia humidity.

For her sake, Wilhelm rarely ran at his full capability. His times of having to do so were thankfully still reserved for the beginning of the outbreak. When things were hectic. A few times here and there Alana would begin to slow down, Wilhelm stopping just long enough for her to catch up, and then he'd take up the rear, pushing her on. If she was hating him for having them run for an entire hour she was doing a fine job of not showing it.

At the passing of the hour, Wilhelm slowed them down, making his way through the woods to the road. He looked back the way they had come; they'd made a good distance and the road had curve enough that the general area they'd started off at was far out of sight, past the horizon. Alana joined him at the edge of the woods, taking the moment to pull out her own bottle of water. She removed and lowered the packs to the ground before sitting down beside them. Wilhelm took a couple steps forward, looking this way and that over the road, listening and looking for movement. Pleased when his eyes and ears saw nor heard anything, he motioned for Alana to join him on the road. He placed his packs on the hood of a truck, making a quick search of them. He handed Alana a pair of sunglasses and a faded green baseball cap to wear as they'd now be out under the sun.

"Let's keep to the side," Wilhelm told her after placing his own cap and sunglasses on. "We'll stick to the obvious cars, yeah?" he checked with her. While it'd be preferred to search every car they would be passing, the issue of the ringing bells made that preference an unwise one. If the cars had nothing out in the open that'd be of use to the siblings, then there was no time to stop and search. There would no doubt be people in some of these cars as well, trapped, and they'd be a risk of drawing more attention. It was for the best that the two of them kept moving with as few slowings as possible.

The sea of cars around them seemed like it just never ended. It dumbfounded Alana, having never seen anything like it before all this had begun. She couldn't help but wonder where everyone had gone. What was their breaking point? What was it that finally made these people decide it was the better idea to leave their cars? And where had they gone? It was strange how, while yes there were cars here and there flipped on their side or roofs, and some turned at odd angles, there wasn't really any sign of a panic. No sign of a sudden rush of people leaving behind their cars. There were few cars with doors left open. Like there had just been a random, slow exodus. At points Alana and Wilhelm would pass by someone dead on the road, truly dead, but rarely did the scene hint at there having been an attack.

The scenery was just…bizarre.

Surreal.

Wilhelm continued checking his watch as they walked on, getting closer and closer to where the caravan had been. Alana wagered they'd been walking for well past an hour when he guided them to move to their far right. As they finally reached the group, it would appear they'd come from the opposite side of the road from where the little girl Sophia had run off towards.

There had been no more loud disruptions since the bells that morning, leaving Wilhelm relieved albeit cautiously worried. The sole noise meant they would not have to be concerned with growing attention, they'd only need worry over how many had heard the bells and were now making their way closer. He and Alana knew very well it was possible for a herd to form from the dead that were now heading towards the source. If they did run into another herd, Alana knew that at least the members of the group up ahead could serve as distraction. The thought didn't sit fully well with her, but her personal survival was more important.

They were past midday when the two neared a curve in the road that would lead them into sight of the caravan. Slowing as they reached it, Wilhelm and Alana stepped into the woods. Alana removed a detached scope from within a pack to pass to Wilhelm; taking careful steps forward he searched as the curve revealed the rest of the road.

"The old man is on watch," he informed Alana. "Can't see anyone else."

Alana scoffed, reaching for the scope and taking a look for herself. "Left him on his own?" she asked, "Seriously?" The scope remained held up as Alana scanned over and around the RV. A moment later she tsked, nodding her head towards the left side of the vehicle. "There. The man with the cut arm is still there." Under her breath Alana added, "Why they took everyone else with them is beyond me. Foolish."

The elder man atop the RV wasn't keeping the best of watches—even without the scope Alana could see as such. She and Wilhelm were no longer trying to hide at the edge of the woods or the edge of the road. Instead they took the clearest path through the cars as it presented itself to them. Both kept their eyes ahead of them, watching the top of the RV for movement. Alana had informed her brother that the injured man had been slumped down inside a car and so she doubted he'd spot them until they were right upon the two men. As they were nearing perhaps 300 yards to the caravan, Wilhelm and Alana halted slightly; Wilhelm waved his arms above his head while Alana stood on her tippy toes with a weak wave of one arm. The elder man on watch had finally caught sight of them through his binoculars. The sudden stillness in him was evident even from where the siblings stood. Wilhelm pulled Alana slightly in front of him, ensuring the man would see her. He was hoping her height compared to his would encourage the RV man to wave them ahead. The chances of the man thinking Alana a child were decent enough.

"Taking his time…" Alana muttered. Wilhelm said he was perhaps trying to talk to the other man. "Well he best talk faster. I'm not liking this."

She and Wilhelm hunched over at the sharp sound of a gunshot. Their eyes were no longer on the old man—he hadn't even raised his rifle towards them, too busy holding the binoculars and trying to speak to the second man. The shot had come from Alana and Wilhelm's left. From the direction of the bells though this sounded further off. A stronger echo accompanying it.

Alana looked to her brother with a worried face. Much as she may have wanted to turn back, to keep moving, to get away from the new source of noise, she knew it was too late. Much too late now. There was no changing the plan again. She turned her attention back down the road, to the older man who still stood atop the RV. He was using the binoculars to search the woods. Alana knew he wouldn't see anything. They were too far away from whoever shot off that gun. It was a stilted relief Alana felt when then man finally turned back to them, waving an arm at them, ushering them to come towards the caravan hurriedly.

As they got closer she and Wilhelm took caution to watch the ground and corners around them. The herd that had moved through the day before had left some stragglers that the caravan had taken care of. Regardless of that, the siblings kept their eyes on each corpse they encountered, watching to see if one would move. And they didn't walk too close to the cars, wary of an unnoticed one dragging itself out for a quick bite. It happened a lot at the beginning of the outbreak. People were so busy with the ones walking towards them, they never saw the ones dragging their entrails across the ground to take a chunk out of some ankles.

The RV man remained at his perch while they walked their way over to him. Alana stole glances to her brother as she walked beside him, a step behind. It felt like the closer they got the more apprehension built inside her. At that very moment they couldn't be fully sure what they were walking into, but Alana could hold onto the fact that it was her and her brother against this older man and the injured one. If they had to escape, they could. If they had to defend themselves, they could.

"The group won't be back from looking for that little girl," Wilhelm began telling Alana. "If that shot was them finding something, they're still looking. If it was them shooting the little girl, the mother is with them, far as we know, she wouldn't let them leave without burying the girl. Placing her somewhere at least. Either way, we have time to get these two on our side. The old man will be easy to win over. We have medicine, we have you. You will take a look at that other man's arm—we have plenty of medicine. When that old man sees us up close, sees our packs, he'll think we're a damn salvation. And when you help that other man…doesn't matter if when the group returns they want us gone. That old one won't allow it. And that mother. Tomorrow will be two days her little girl has been missing. You know what that means. If they come back today without her, that is our advantage. That mother will look at you and see her daughter. She'll likely latch onto whatever she can, someone she can care for. If the group tries to send us away, she'll see it as them sending her little girl away. She won't let them."

Alana listened as Wilhelm laid out his plan, keeping silent. It was a common routine for the two. Wilhelm laying out their plans while Alana quietly followed behind, knowing exactly her part in the plans without need to question every choice. It'd been the way the two had functioned for most of their lives together. Wilhelm was the verbal one while Alana was the one moving behind the scenes. He was seventeen years older than her, his 42nd birthday having passed only a month prior. Her was coming up soon. He carried a small personal planner; it had one of those pages with dates for the next three years in it along with the current year. He would mark in it lightly with a pencil everyday, keeping track of the days. Something as mundane as the date was now something that helped to keep a semblance of a normal world intact.

With just a couple cars between them and the RV Wilhelm spoke lowly to Alana, reminding her that they just needed one person to trust them for the plan to play out smoothly. Alana kept her head down, tired, barely picking her feet up from the ground as they moved along the last cars. They passed their tipped car some thirty feet from the RV when they could hear the two men speaking. The older man called out to them, now holding his rifle in one hand.

"You can stop right there…who are you?" he asked with uncertainty, trying to figure out what was on their backs.

Wilhelm spoke up, keeping an eye on the other man who was leaning against a car to their left, his face covered in sweat and his eyelids heavy.

"I'm Wilhelm. This is my sister, Alana."

"What you doing in Georgia?" the other man questioned.

"We're German," Wilhelm answered as the man scoffed and stifled and cough. "We were backpacking when…well when this happened," Wilhelm further answered, waving a hand out to the graveyard of cars they were in. "We tried to get through a ways back, but just the two of us, we cut through the woods and came out a bit back. Thought maybe we'd pass round the blockage. Don't know if it's the same one. We've been on foot for a couple days now."

"Did you see any walkers?" the old man asked them, going on to explain he meant the dead when Wilhelm and Alana looked to him confused. Bit by bit he had been lowering his rifle towards the chair atop the RV, his stance relaxing.

"A herd," Alana spoke up. "Maybe fifty or so. We saw them yesterday. We ran into the woods and hid. The man nodded at her words.

"Did you…did you see a little girl?"

Wilhelm scrunched his brow up. "Little girl with the…walkers?"

The man sighed, shaking his head. "Anywhere. Blue shirt, hair about to here," he motioned. "She got separated from our group."

Wilhelm shook his head, "No, I'm sorry, you're the first live people we've seen in," he pulled out the planner from a pocket and flipped through it, "almost three weeks."

"What's in those packs?" the other man asked hotly, stepping forward, his wounded arm help up against his chest.

"T-Dog," the other man called out. Wilhelm pushed Alana behind him.

"Were you bitten?" he asked the man that was coming towards them, droplets of sweat rolling down his head and into his eyes. He rubbed them away with his good arm.

"No. No he wasn't bitten!" Wilhelm removed his hand from his rifle resting over his shoulder, still keeping Alana behind him. "The walkers came through here, he cut his arm on a car trying to hide from them. And…and we lost someone. A little girl, Sophia. The rest of our group is out trying to find her. She was chased into the woods yesterday."

T-Dog was still trying to make his way over to Wilhelm and Alana, leaning on cars as he walked. "Shut up Dale," he said with exhaustion.

"We have supplies, medical. My sister can help him," Wilhelm said to Dale.

"Keep moving, get out of here," the man said, trying to keep his balance. "They'll just steal the RV from us Dale, take it for themselves."

Dale looked at a loss for words and actions. He looked around, no sign of walkers. No sign of the group. T-Dog was delirious, the infection in the wound worse. Even if the rest of the group came back, what could they do for T-Dog? They had no medications, nothing that T-Dog actually needed to get better. It was only him and T-Dog and he wasn't in any right state to make a decision.

"What did you do before this?" he asked Alana and Wilhelm.

"We were in the German defense forces. I was army. Alana was medical."

Dale thought she looked young. And tired. And for a moment it didn't matter whether or not she had a rifle over her shoulder or a machete at her waist. It didn't matter that beside her was a man who could easily overpower both him and T-Dog. If more walkers came it would be up to Dale to stand ground.

All that mattered in Dale's mind was very simple.

Strength in numbers.

"Help him into the RV."

T-Dog protested but it was meek and ignored. Wilhelm led him back to the RV, pushing him up the steps. He took his packs off and left them outside. Alana removed hers as well, digging through the proper one and pulling put everything she would need. Dale peered over the side of the RV, watching she gather items into her arms. She looked up and saw him.

"Watch the roads," was all she said before disappearing into the RV.

Dale could hear T-Dog inside, cursing as the wound was cleaned and bandaged with sterile cloths. He heard Alana say that stitches might be needed. T-Dog protested at that statement. Alana said something in German and her brother laughed lightly. From the shuffling inside Alana was moving around.

She stepped back outside and looked up to Dale.

"Have you given him anything, any medicine?" she asked while squatting down by the packs and going through one again.

"Just something to try and lower the fever," Dale answered, fishing a bottle from his pockets and tossing it down to her. She looked over the label. "Do you have antibiotics?"

She nodded her head. "But this heat will not help. It'll prolong the infection." She turned to the RV door when Wilhelm stepped out.

"We can't move. The rest of our group is still out there," Dale told her.

"When will they be back?" Wilhelm asked.

"Before nightfall I would hope."

"He needs to eat. It'll help his strength. Has he eaten?" Alana asked. Dale shook his head, not that he was aware of. She spoke to Wilhelm in German, asking if it was alright if they gave T-Dog a pack of Ramen Noodles. He'd need to eat something heavy. Wilhelm agreed. "We have noodles. I'll make him some." Alana picked through the food pack, taking a small pot and bag of noodles. She remembered a truck of water bottles they had passed so she walked back to it to fill the pot.

Dale watched in a sort of awe as the young woman moved back and forth with ease. Wilhelm had asked if the stove in his RV worked. He shook his head and apologized. Wilhelm only smiled. He grabbed his rifle and headed into the woods. He never went out of sight, picking up twigs and such. At the side of the road he gathered rocks, forming a little circle with them and sticking the twigs in it. He came back to the RV, ruffled through a pack, pulled out a magazine and began tearing the pages out as he made his way back to the side of the road. He lit the little fire with a lighter from a pocket.

Alana stood at his side, holding the pot of water and the bag of noodles. Once the small fire was going he took the pot from her. He said something to her then handed it back to her. She leisurely made her way back to the water truck, filling the pot to the rim. After handing it over to Wilhelm again she headed for the RV. She looked up at Dale with grey eyes.

"Would you like some noodles?"

"You know, I can't remember the last time I had noodles," he laughed. Alana nodded her head and pulled two more bags from a pack. "Thank you," he called out to her. She stopped and turned around.

"You're welcome."

When the noodles were ready Dale instructed Wilhelm where to find bowls and forks in the RV. T-Dog was given the largest amount. Dale remained on the top of the RV, so Wilhelm and Alana joined him. They both waved him off when he offered them the folding chair. They sat contently on the roof, legs crisscrossed, just like in school.

"The gunshot, from earlier," Alana brought as they ate, "Someone from your group?" She twirled noodles around her fork, failing a bit to find a good angle to catch the ends.

Dale could only shrug in reply. "Possibly. Normally I would be concerned, but…"

"It was only one shot," Wilhelm finished and Dale nodded. "One shot is always better than two."

All three were thinking the same thing. One shot may have been better than two, but it still meant someone or something had been shot. Dale tried to imagine Sophia as one of those dead things, but he couldn't. He mentally slapped himself for thinking it was even possible. They'd find her, he was sure of it. He had to be sure of it. They'd come back soon, Sophia with them.

"Are you two carrying around your entire lives in those packs?" he asked Alana and Wilhelm, shaking himself from his thoughts.

"What's left of it," Wilhelm mused. He held up a hand, counting each pack. "One for food, one for clothes, two for protection." Alana was happy when Dale didn't push what was in the last two bags. Happy when he didn't ask to see the first two either.

WDWDWDWD

Daylight wouldn't be lasting much longer, maybe two hours. The group would be arriving soon. At least that's what Dale told himself. They had finished their noodles a couple hours earlier. Alana had gone down to check on T-Dog then returned, rifle and binoculars in hand. Wilhelm carried a rifle over his shoulder, walking back and forth along the road.

"I don't mean to be rude" Dale began, speaking to Alana. She was looking over the front side of the RV, he watching the back. "But when the others get back, well, these last couple of days haven't been easy for us. I'm not sure how they'll take to seeing two new faces here."

Alana looked back from her binoculars, a solemn look purposely on her face. "Would it be better if we leave before they get back?"

Dale felt horrible. "No, no I didn't mean you had to leave. We wouldn't send you and your brother away." Alana nodded slightly. "I'll talk to Rick when he gets here. He's, well I suppose the closest thing we have to a leader. Like I said, the past days haven't been easy, but he'll listen. He's a good man like that."

Wilhelm came and joined them on top the RV. T-Dog was asleep down below, able to get some rest as the medication Dale had given him earlier for the fever had begun to kick in. Over the next hour Dale told Wilhelm and Alana about the others in the group. There was Rick, he had been a police officer. His wife Lori and son Carl were with him. A friend of Rick's, also a police officer, was with the group. Shane. Dale didn't say much about him. And that didn't go unnoticed. There was Glenn, the young Asian boy Wilhelm and Alana had seen the day before. He was from Atlanta, used to deliver pizzas. Dale boasted of how Glenn was the best at getting in and out of places. There was Andrea as well. He had picked her and her sister Amy up, after the outbreak. Amy was gone though. There was Daryl, too. Dale strained to put in words the person that was Daryl. He admitted that though he was rough around the edges, if anyone could make it through all this it would be Daryl. Dale quickly mentioned Merle, Daryl's brother, and the incident that left him with one hand and on his own. Lastly he brought up Carol. And Sophia. Wilhelm apologized, saying that they hadn't seen the little girl while walking. Dale nodded somberly. He said a few words about others that they had lost, Ed, Jim, Jacqui. Even Dr. Jenner and some of the events at the CDC. Wilhelm and Alana weren't surprised, their father had told them to expect centers like those to be deathtraps in the end.

The three were chatting away casually about their lives when rustling in the woods caught their attention. It came from where Sophia had run through. Could be the group returning, but Wilhelm and Alana weren't about to risk it. All three were watching the woods but whatever made the noise, it was still too far back to be seen through the brush and trees, even with the binoculars. Wilhelm motioned to Dale to stay on the RV as he and Alana climbed down. They both left their rifles and binoculars up there with him. While Wilhelm closed the door to the RV Alana pulled out a baseball bat and the crossbow. No use of the rifles unless absolutely necessary. She cocked the crossbow and loaded a bolt in it; she kept fitting bolts in the slot until she found one that fit. The machete was still at her waist.

With a nod to Dale the two crept across the road and into the woods. Wilhelm veered left, Alana right. They'd switch and meet in the center once further in the woods then head back for the road. Alana stayed low, never keeping her back facing one direction for long.

Remember your training. Her father's words to her. At the end of every call they made to him he would always tell her the same thing. Remember your training.

Whatever had been making the noise stopped. Alana paused. When she heard the noise again she started moving towards it, fast.

There was shouting. A scream. Her brother yelling to her in German. "Run!" He meant to the road, but Alana followed after his voice. There was a small clearing and in it her brother. Surrounded by others. Those with weapons had them trained on him.

She didn't bother stopping and hiding, she kept moving, a plan forming as she got closer. She held the crossbow up to the person at the furthest edge of the clearing and closest to her. He finger building a grip on the trigger.

At the same instance Dale shouted frantically from the road, "Stop!"

Daryl swung around in place, staring down the end of an arrow trained lslighty up at him. No one budged until Dale came bustling through the woods and into the clearing, panting heavily.

"They're ok! Don't shoot!"

The tension slowly faded. Alana lowered her crossbow first, turning on her heel and heading back to the road after glancing over the newcomers.

Everyone looked to Dale accusingly after Wilhelm followed after his sister with a final glance over his shoulder.

"Can we please just get back to the road first?" Dale asked, palms in the air.

The group obliged hesitantly.

In those few moments of chaos all thought had passed. It went unnoticed that Sophia was not with the group. It went unnoticed that Rick, Lori, Carl, and Shane were not with the group.

And it went unnoticed that Daryl's trigger hand had cramped.