They had been trekking through the woods for an hour, Daryl leading the way. Alana picked up the rear, Andrea between the two of them. Daryl would look back now and then to see Alana, eyes never staying in the same place for long. She'd pick up the night vision goggles, looking at something, then keep moving on. She had the butt of her crossbow pressed into her shoulder, ready to snap it up at the slightest sound.

Andrea, sure she was looking everywhere just as he and Alana were, except she wasn't seeing a damn thing, not with her head snapping left and right at that speed. She was trying to step in the same places as he was. Woman was trying too damn hard. He was regretting not sending her ass back to the RV. At least with Alana all he had to worry about was her trying to put those stupid goggles on him. And trying to understand that accent.

Andrea began lamenting about Sophia being out in the woods alone, unable to fathom how scared she possibly could be. If anyone asked, she hoped that they would find Sophia, that she would be okay. But she also knew the possibility that Sophia was already dead; she just chose to ignore it.

"She's fine," Daryl said, "I was younger than her when I got lost."

Though he had to suffer a glare from Alana he had turned on his flashlight. When she said nothing about it Andrea pulled her smaller light out from a worn sling purse she had brought with her.

"She's only 12," Andrea countered.

Daryl and Alana scoffed. He shot a glance back at her, but Alana was too busy looking around, no doubt reliving her commando days of glory he thought. "Hell, I was younger than that when I got lost. Nine days wanderin' the woods on my own. No one came lookin' for me."

"Not even Merle?" Andrea asked, picking up the pace to walk alongside him. Alana continued her steady pace, scanning the woods.

"Doing a stint in juvi'. No one even knew I was gone. Had to find my own way back, eating berries and wiping my ass with poison oak. Finally found my way back to home, walked right on in to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. Wasn't any worse for the wear. Well, 'side from my itchy ass."

A few second passed in silence, then Andrea began to snicker. When Daryl shot her a glare she held up a hand to her face, trying to cover the smile. "What, you think my itchy ass is funny?"

"It is," Alana piped up with a snicker, "just trying to imagine a young you sitting in the kitchen eating a sandwich…rubbing his bottom on the chair." At that Andrea stopped trying to hold the laughter in any longer, though she did her best to keep it quiet. She hadn't completely forgotten that the world had gone to hell.

"And what, you mean to tell me you ain't never got the itches running round playing commando?" The terrain was becoming jagged, large loosened rocks all over the place. Daryl and Andrea stopped so that Alana could catch up with them.

"Of course I did, but I knew better than to go around rubbing my ass on everything. I just got it on my face when I decided to make a pillow out of leaves. Woke up and the whole left side of my face was swollen. But I knew better than to scratch at it."

"What did you do then huh? Go home and put ice on it?" Daryl countered her with.

"No. I'd just slap myself each time I wanted to scratch it." Alana spoke the words as a matter of fact and logic.

Andrea snickered.

"It worked. By the end of the day I had an imprint of my hand on my face. The others in my squad nicknamed me Slappy after that."

"Thought Germany didn't have an army," Daryl muttered, continuing to move through the woods.

"Though I'm sure the world enjoyed thinking so, we were not all Nazis, buying our children Easy-Bake ovens for their birthdays. Alana gave a pause, " We always get those for Christmas."

Andrea's laughing was cutoff by a creaking noise. Alana's posture became more rigid as she and Daryl stepped forward, crossbows up. Up ahead they could see a tent. It looked like only one person had been there, the zipper to the tent half opened. Outside of it was a chair and a poorly built fire pit. Alana peeked into the tent. Nothing worth taking back to the RV. A barely audible gasp from Andrea had her swirling around.

Daryl was shining his light up in a tree. A rather large walker was in it, swinging from a noose. Daryl scrunched his face up, looking the walker up and down. Andrea took a couple steps back, a hand on her knee as she tried to calm her nerves and stomach. A note stuck to the tree with a knife caught Daryl's attention.

"'Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit.' Dumbass. Didn't know it had to be the head." He shined the light on the legs of the walker, which were bare of meat, just a thread here and there still clinging to the bone. "Walkers must of shown up, ate the only bit they could reach."

"Can we change the topic please?" Andrea asked, looking paler.

Alana came up to the walker, having finished searching the area. "Didn't see a gun anywhere."

"Guess that explains hanging 'imself. Still a dumbass if you ask me." He watched as Alana took another step forward, poking at the walker's boney feet with her crossbow. It lashed out at her, thrashing from side to side as it tried to reach down and grab her. She only laughed at it.

"He's like one of those things, with the candy in it." She looked to Daryl for confirmation, unsure of what the name was. He froze for a moment before answering, shaking off the shock that she was attempting a conversation with him. And that she wasn't phased by the decaying corpse swinging from the tree. Gnashing and snarling at them.

"Pinata."

"Pinata," Alana repeated. It sounded funny with her accent. "Looks like they would have gotten to the candy if it was just a bit lower." She pointed to the walker's waist, where its insides could be seen through the torn skin and muscle.

Andrea made the mistake of looking up, Daryl's light shining directly on the spot. There wasn't much to throw up, but it came up anyways, followed by some dry-heaving.

"Why aren't we changing the topic?" she asked, a whine in her tone.

"Revenge," Daryl said, still looking at the walker as it thrashed and gnawed its teeth at Alana, "for laughing at my itchy ass."

"And my itchy face," Alana added.

"Nothing else here. Let's get back to the RV." Alana began to follow Daryl, walking past Andrea who was staring between them and the hanging walker.

"What about him?"

They turned around, confusion on their faces. They thought it was obvious, the walker was no threat to them.

"What 'bout him? Ain't doing no harm to anyone. His own damn fault, leave him up there to rot," Daryl said. When he saw the look on Andrea's face he asked, "Change your mind about not wanting to live?"

Alana watched in silence, unsure of what was happening. Dale had told her of Andrea's sister and the CDC, but it was difficult for her to grasp why someone would just want to give up like Dale felt that Andrea had done.

"An answer for an arrow," she told Daryl, watching the walker, its thrashing having not slowed down. When Daryl nodded she said, "I don't know. I don't know if I want to live."

Shaking his head Daryl held up the crossbow, taking aim. "Waste of an arrow," he muttered before sending the bolt through the walker's left eye. In an instance its thrashing had stopped. Only sound left was the low creak of the branch it swung from.

Alana stalked over to Daryl, shoving her crossbow and goggles at him. She murmured something in German before picking her way up the tree. Sliding a compact knife from a back pocket she cut the rope, the walker falling to the ground with a thud and clank of bones. She ripped the bolt from its head, shaking the bits of bone and brain away. Handing it to Daryl she took back her stuff.

"No excuse to waste an arrow," she said before heading off, leading the three of them out of the woods.

It wasn't till they reached the road that anyone spoke up. Dale was awake and on watch. He waved at them. Carol could be seen from inside the RV, staring out at them. When she saw that Sophia wasn't with them she quickly went to the back of the RV.

"Carol won't handle leaving tomorrow very well, not with Sophia still out there," Andrea said.

"Nothing can be done about it. We can't stay out here on the road like this, we'd be easy targets," Alana stated. Andrea stopped and looked at Alana with a sort of shock on her face, not understanding how someone who just joined their group would be daft enough to say such things. "I'm guessing you've had it easy," Alana started, rounding on Andrea. "Haven't run into much trouble aside from the dead. You have no idea what's out there. People have changed. Willing to do anything to survive. It's not only the dead you have to watch out for. All those end of the world films, what did they all have in them? It's not just those zombies eating people. Trust me, you don't want to come across that."

Andrea felt sick again. Daryl had been staring at his feet, shuffling as the discomfort of Alana's words stuck in him.

"I'm sure it'd be best to not mention any of that to Carol," Alana said before walking away. Wilhelm was asleep on top of the RV. She climbed up to let him know she was back before coming back down and heading into the RV.

Andrea did her best to sleep for what remained of the night, trying to forget Alana's words. She was right though. All those apocalyptic films, at some point the cannibals showed up. Andrea was left questioning even more if she truly wanted to live in this world.

There was little over an hour before sunrise. Daryl had taken over watch, he wasn't too keen on getting much sleep. He was mulling over what Alana had said. It only added to the guilt. He wondered if Sophia had come across anyone that was alive. Could she trust them? What if they…no, it would do no good to think those things.

He sat in the chair, doing more thinking than looking. Wilhelm had gone down into the RV, asleep on the floor. He wouldn't bother with saying it, but he was wary of the brother and sister. He saw no reason to say anything about it though, not with Sophia missing. Besides it wasn't up to him. He was no leader. Only time he made a decision was when the group allowed him to. When they all turned to him for something.

He didn't hear the door open. Alana's figure in the corner of his eye shook him to attention. She quietly placed her crossbow on top the RV. She had three tubes slung over her shoulder. He watched as she came to sit in front of him. She held her crossbow out to him.

"Can you tell me which arrows I can use? I've just been using whichever ones seemed to fit."

Annoyed by her decision to come bother him and hoping she'd go away he said, "Thought you knew how to use it."

"I don't. I just know how to aim and shoot. We were in a rush and I just grabbed all the arrows I could. Quieter than a gun, much longer range than a bat or machete." She was still holding the crossbow up to him, splayed out in her arms like some sacrifice.

Daryl scanned over the road, actually hoping there would be something for him to shoot so he could ignore her. But there wasn't. Snatching the crossbow from her he looked it over. She held out a tube of bolts next, unscrewing the lid and pulling a few out. Some were shorter than others, some had silver tips, others black. Daryl guessed that she had at least five different types of bolts just in the one tube. He picked up the tube and studied the bolts, picking a few out.

"Any of these three will work." It was a simple answer. He didn't see the need to tell her the brands of the bolts, the models. Handing her them she twirled each one in her hands, nodding. "And they're bolts," he added, "not arrows." Alana paused, nodding again before taking the tube back from Daryl. She figured he had called them arrows with Andrea because he simply didn't feel like correcting her. Didn't think she'd care about the correction.

"Thank you," Alana said before scooting away to the edge of the RV. She opened up the other two tubes of bolts and carefully took them all out. Holding onto the three Daryl had given her she began picking each bolt up, one by one, comparing them. The ones that matched she placed to her right, the others on the left.

"Who's Merle? Is he your brother?"

The question surprised him. She had been sitting there for a while, going through the bolts. Those of the same brand could be difficult to tell apart depending on the model and so it was taking her longer to shift through the pile. But she never asked Daryl for help.

Her back was to him, but still Daryl shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"Dale said something happened, in Atlanta."

"He got left behind."

"Did you go find him?"

"Tried to, he was already gone."

Alana didn't say anything right away, holding a bolt close to her face, trying to read the model number. "So he's still out there then." She turned around to look at him when he didn't answer.

"Probably. Doubt he'd be too happy to see me again."

"Why wouldn't he be happy?"

He was going to ask why she couldn't just be quite, but she had already turned back around, going through the bolts. Something about the scar that peaked out from her shirt and scratched its way up to through her hairline made him stop. It was healed over but still looked raw and angry.

"What's with that?" he asked. She looked back as he pointed to his own neck.

She took a moment to choose her words. "Some people, they weren't meant for this world. For what it has become." She went back to going through the bolts. "We were with a group. Four of them. We had just gotten out of Texas. Holed up in a motel. I was on watch, it was night. I had nodded off and next thing I know there's a car coming down the road. They were good people. Just scared. We let them stay with us in the room we had taken up. Didn't have a choice. We stayed there for a week when Wilhelm said we needed to keep moving, we were too close to the road and we couldn't risk more people passing by. The others, they didn't want to leave, they thought the motel was safe enough. Thought they could just hold it out there, wait for whatever salvation they had dreamt up in their minds."

"Taking it they stayed behind then."

Alana nodded stiffly. "Didn't have a choice. Wilhelm said we were leaving. He wanted to leave right that moment. One of them grabbed me. Put a knife to my throat. They wanted the packs. Only reason they really wanted us to stay. One of them had grabbed one of our guns, but the silly cow couldn't stop shaking, shot off a round into the ceiling. It was enough for Wilhelm. Gave me a moment to get away, but not enough. Still got me in the end. We killed them all and left."

The sun was coming up.

She had finished sorting through the bolts. Gathering everything she looked over the RV as the door opened and Wilhelm came out. He gave a quick wave of a hand before heading off to the woods.

She started heading down the ladder, stopping before she completely disappeared. "Are you going to tell the others?" Her face was blank, not a hint of pleading on it or in her voice. Yet all Daryl could hear was vulnerability.

Daryl could only shake his head.

Some people weren't meant for this world.