The Weak Get Taken

There were a couple of dead Walkers scattered in the hall. Blood spattered on the walls still dripping, blood from their heads still draining out into puddles on the floor.

Oscar walked up from behind me, I knew he'd been looking at the body. I glanced down to his side, seeing the bloody axe dangling from his hand.

I heard some footsteps through the darkness, they were steady and quick, making it obvious they came from living people.

"Here," Oscar called. "Door was stuck, I found her inside."

Sasha looked down at me with wide eyes, her shoulders dropping in relief, "the gun, that was you?"

I lifted the glock to show her, not bother to do or say anything else.

"Toby?" Tyreese walked up from behind Sasha.

"Gunshot came from her, Oscar found her in that room." Sasha looked back at me, "We split off when we heard it, it's hard to pinpoint the sound in here."

Tyreese's eyes scanned me over, "I'm glad you're safe, you're not hurt, are you?"

I shook my head.

"T-Dog said he got split off from you and Jimmy, do you know where he went?"

My stomach dropped and I tore my eyes from Sasha. I felt sick and guilty, but no longer sad or scared.

I mentally thanked Oscar when he began to speak, "Uh, there's . . . you might wanna . . ."

I didn't look at any of them. I knew he was motioning to the room and I heard the siblings walk past me. I heard whispers but gave no reaction or movement. I waited as they discovered the body, I wondered what it looked like. Was it obvious to them that he'd turned? Could they see the bite clearly? Or did it just look like I shot Jimmy?

Their voices became louder and impossible to ignore as they left the room, "should we—"

"—No, leave it. Let's just get her back." Tyreese interrupted her.

Sasha and Tyreese led Oscar and I through the halls, following some of the twists and turns that me and Jimmy had taken into the prison. Occasionally, out the corner of my eyes, I saw Oscar looking down at me, but he didn't say anything.

When we neared the cell block, I sped up my steps, beginning to recognize the halls and rooms. I wanted to see Daryl, I wanted to see T-Dog. From what Sasha said I knew he was all right, but I needed to see.

Sasha grasped Tyreese's shoulder, "wait. You should go in, tell them about Jimmy."

She looked over at me and he followed her gaze, "Right, and . . ."

"I'll tell her."

My stomach dropped again. Tyreese entered the outer room that led to the cell block as frustration built up inside me. Something else happened, she was going to tell me, she was keeping me from going in.

Just let me in. I just want to see Daryl.

Sasha knelt down, silent for a long time, thinking over her words. I hated it, I wanted her to hurry up, to just say it.

"I'll just, go, sorry. Give you some privacy." Oscar walked around me and went after Tyreese, I felt envious that he too, was going in before me.

Sasha took her time, looking everywhere but at me. She sniffled and took a deep breath, attempting to start but failing several times.

Someone's dead.

Someone died.

"Who?" I forced out.

She paused, not expecting me to just ask. "Lori, she—she went into labour when the alarms started going off. She didn't make it."

I wasn't sure what name I expected her to say, but that wasn't it.

I felt awkward, clenching and unclenching my fists, unsure of what to do with my hands. Sasha was watching me, I wished she would look away like she had before. She was waiting for some reaction, for me to cry or speak, but I couldn't.

I waited to feel sad or angry, only to find my stomach felt heavy and my skin buzzed with a kind of numbness. I didn't know what I was feeling or what I was supposed to feel.

I gave her a slow nod, showing her I'd heard and accepted the information. Sasha's eyebrows furrowed, confused, but stood and entered the outer room.

It was strange to think about, that Lori would just not be around. I didn't fully understand what Sasha explained, but I did easily understand that she didn't make it.

I wasn't expecting the number of people that were in the room, I thought they would all be in the cell block. I received a few brief glances from them, a lot of them somber. I realize they knew about Jimmy, but I wasn't sure if they knew all the details.

My eyes danced around the room, trying and failing to find Daryl. My search was interrupted when my vision was blocked and large arms encircled me.

"Holy shit," T-Dog pulled away, his face level with mine. "I've been losing my mind, you have no idea, I'm so sorry. I looked, I tried, but they kept coming and-"

"-where's Daryl?" I didn't care what he had to say, I wasn't interested in his reflection of the events or his explanation. I was ready to move on and forget.

"He isn't here, he left with Maggie."

"Left?" I didn't understand and was tired of hesitation, I just wanted an explanation of everything. What happened to Lori? Were they mad at me for shooting Jimmy? Where did the Walkers come from? What was the alarm?

Why isn't Daryl here?

Why didn't he find me?

Why are the prisoners here and not Daryl?

"They had to go on a run, for baby formula. He should be back soon, it's been a long time."

Baby formula?

I put my hand to my head, I had so many questions but didn't know how to start.

"You should be sitting." Sasha slightly reprimanded him.

T-Dog only sighed with an annoyed expression, glancing around before tapping my arm to follow him.

He stood and began limping over to the table, stared at his foot, not seeing any injury.

"Just twisted it," he explained, sitting at the table with benches attached. "It's fine."

I stopped a few feet from the table, noticing Carl for the first time. I finally realized that his mother is dead. I'd been sidetracked with everything else I'd just forgotten. There was a wide box on the table with high sides, Carl was sitting at the other side of the table, staring at it, unable to look into it because of the height.

I expected him to be crying, but he wasn't, only quietly staring. I racked my brain for something to say to him once he finally noticed me, but he didn't do that either, nothing else existed but that box.

Stepping closer, I was able to look into the box. The first thing I saw was something pink moving quickly, making a back and forth motion. My eyes narrowed when I noticed it was a very small arm.

A baby.

Lori's pregnancy had gone over my head. I tried to make sense of it all, confused and fascinated by the tiny thing in front of me.

Its eyes didn't open, the skin wrinkled and scrunched into a mess of different signals. It's mouth opened and shut several times, the bottom lip quivering every so often. I expected a cry, but only heard a tiny gurgling noise.

It wiggled and squirmed, whipping its arm around as if searching but wouldn't open its eyes to look. I watched its head shift from a pale colour, to pink, then red, then pink again. The face shifted to a darker colour when it held its breath for short bursts of times, then let it out with a whimper. The head reminded me of a very red, angry, misshapen potato.

The baby was smooth and wrinkly in some places, it's abdomen smooth with the ribs clearly outlined under the skin, the face, neck, and arms were a mess of rolls and wrinkles. The bottom half of it covered by a blanket it seemed determined to kick off.

I remembered T-Dog sitting beside me. When I looked over he was regarding me with sad eyes, waiting for me to get my bearings. I sat down beside him, turning my back to the box.

"What did they tell you?" he asked me.

I glanced at Carl before mumbling, "Lori."

"They saved the baby," T-Dog went on, "it's healthy but Daryl and Maggie had to go get food."

"We have food," I stated blandly.

"Not baby food, they can't eat what we can."

I didn't get it but decided not to press for information. I saw Hershel moving on his crutches, telling Guillermo he was going to check on Beth before going into the cell block.

I wondered if Beth wasn't there because of Jimmy, was she in the room when they told everyone? I imagined her crying on a bed in a cell.

I noticed Rick wasn't around but guessed he was in the cell block as well, maybe crying about Lori.

I almost asked if anyone else died, but he would've said something. I searched my brain for the right questions, looking back at him with a blank stare.

T-Dog rubbed his face and told me, picking up on my hesitation. "It was the prisoner that got away, Andrew. He got in somehow, left the gates open, turned on the alarms . . ."

My limbs and muscles felt heavy, causing me to slouch with a weighed down feeling. I think I felt sad about Lori, but I wasn't sure. None of the information he was giving to me mattered, I wasn't sure why. I kept expecting to finally understand, to break down with the loss and the frustrations of Jimmy, but I didn't. I felt alone and numb.

At the mention of the prisoner, my eyes went to Oscar, standing on the other side of the room, talking to Tyreese.

"They're okay," T-Dog assured me, following my gaze. "Oscar helped find and shut off the alarms, he took care of Andrew. I think they'll be staying with us."

"He dead?" I knew the answer.

"Yeah . . . he's dead."

Nothing came up after that. I understood the events that led up to me being trapped in that room, mostly. I didn't ask anything else, only stared at the door, waiting for Daryl.

I paced around the room continuously for so long, my feet and calves were aching. I would force myself to sit and stop, only to stand and start all over, unable to control the restlessness. I'd walk close to the door the most, my eyes wandering to it every so often, waiting for Daryl to come back.

I'd heard a few other stories, how Guillermo saved Sasha, they stayed together until finding Tyreese. After I got separated from T-Dog, he'd fallen and twisted his ankle. He'd been able to kill and use a Walker's body to shield himself as more flooded the halls, his scent masked.

There were some comments about Guillermo, about how he'd stepped up and come a long way from before. He used to freak out with Walkers and gunshots, cry or hide, but he didn't anymore. He did seem different, while usually withdrawn and quiet, I'd seen him speaking on several occasions that night, checking on others.

Rick apparently ran off somewhere after hearing about Lori.

I found out that I'd been missing for eight hours.

Tyreese was helping hand out food, no one really had an appetite, but people still tried.

When I went to him to get my portion, Hershel called me out, standing on his crutches not too far away. I got scared for a moment, waiting to be questioned about Jimmy.

"How are you doing? Is your ear bothering you? I saw you tugging on it."

I realised even as I held my paper plate out my hand was reaching toward my bad ear, it'd been aching for a while, but it wasn't horrible, I hated and welcomed the plain as a distraction.

"When have you had your medication last?" Hershel questioned. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I didn't have the pills and I had forgotten about them. The last time I took it was in the morning, and it was night.

"Daryl has them," I said.

"Make sure you take one as soon as he gets back, it'll be fine." He assured me, reading the apprehension on my face. After giving me a kind nod, I walked away, confused and relieved at why he didn't mention Jimmy.

I winced when the baby let out a particularly loud wail, the screech echoing off the walls and causing a sharp pain in my ear.

Carl was holding it with both arms over his lap, sitting at the table with his legs outward. I held out the plate to him, trying to get his attention. Carl hadn't looked or spoken to me the whole time, I felt bad and wanted to do something, but didn't know what. I was going crazy in that room, I wanted to run outside, but we weren't allowed. I hoped bringing Carl some food would do something, maybe he would talk to me.

"I brought ya food," I tried in between the wails.

"She's hungry," he said, not looking up.

It's head was red with anger, trying hard to wriggle out of Carl's grip, but he didn't budge. I stood awkwardly, searching for words or actions, anything to do.

"There's food," I felt hot tears brim my eyes. I felt so useless and lost, I needed something I wasn't aware of, some validation. Suddenly I was overwhelmed, people were dead, Daryl was gone and everyone was just so sad. It was worse than when Hershel got hurt, they were all sad and waiting for him to die, this time people had died, we lost the safety of our new home, everything was different.

Carl was supposed to be talking to me, he was supposed to be coming to me. We were supposed to talk awkwardly, I would be annoyed but that was fine, I was used to it and even wanted it.

"Go away."

It was the only response I got and I didn't know how to handle it. I kept my lips tight and did as he said, trying to keep my face steady. On the outside, I looked as if I was calmly walking to the door. On the inside, everything was churning in a tornado of turmoil.

I sat on the floor by the door, picking at the food but just barely eating it, trying to pretend being by the door was just as good as being on the other side of it.

About ten minutes had passed when we heard the commotion outside the door. I stood quickly, knocking the plate and remnants of food on the floor. I didn't care or pay attention, I knew what I was hearing.

Oscar came in first, then Glenn, Maggie, Axel, and finally Daryl. People had been going out in shifts to take care of Walkers or watch for Daryl and Maggie.

So much anxiety left when I saw him, realising that I was worried he'd died. I hadn't seen him since before everything went down and even though I was told he survived it, I didn't know for sure, I never saw him. Even so something could have happened on the run.

"Beth!" Maggie called out, running to the table. Hershel made his way over to her while she dumped her bag out next to the lantern. Hershel spoke in a low tone so I couldn't hear, but I knew he was telling her about Jimmy.

I watched her expression. She nodded and spoke back but didn't give much else at first. Beth ran out from the cell block then, rushing over to Maggie before hugging her tightly.

They both cried together for only a moment before Maggie pulled away, speaking to her sister softly and even wiping her tears.

I did that.

"C'mon," Daryl nudged my shoulder and I followed him to Carl. "You got her, she alright?"

Carl nodded numbly.

"Maggie?" Daryl checked on her.

"We're making it now," Maggie assured, sorting through the items with Beth.

Daryl nudged me again, as if making sure I was there before leading me to the cell block.

"Glenn told me," he said when we stood in the cell block, far from everyone else. "'Bout Jimmy and—shit, I didn't think they'd take so long to find ya, if I did I wouldn't've . . ."

He would have stayed. I guessed, trying to fill in the blanks.

"What happened in there? I know ya had to shoot him, but . . ." He trailed off again. I only shrugged and stared at his poncho. My mind involuntarily wandered to when we found it at an old farm while travelling, it was supposed to be a blanket for horses. He'd ripped a hole in it and wore it around, I laughed the first time, not understanding why he was doing it. He went on to explain he wanted something warm but wouldn't disrupt any movements with his weapons, I still laughed about how it looked. I thought it was dumb.

Daryl stood awkwardly for a while, waiting for me to speak. I didn't know where to start or what to say, or how to say it. My thoughts kept getting interrupted by the screeching baby, then I would think about Lori.

"Ya doin' all right? Ya didn't get hurt, right?"

I shook my head.

"Hey," Daryl leaned down a bit, tilting his head into my line of sight. I watched his face scrunch then relax with some sort of realisation. "Don't, don't do this. I can't go through this shit again."

He stood up straight, looking tired and somewhat agitated.

Completely lost, I just asked, "What?"

He let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God, you—I thought . . . Forget it. What happened?"

I didn't understand what answer he wanted, he knew what happened to Jimmy, that I shot him, what else was there? Did any of it matter?

"You left," I crossed my arms. "you weren't here." I didn't understand most of my feelings throughout everything that was going on or what happened, but I did know I felt angry with him. I wanted it to be him to break down the door, I was looking for him after. Why wasn't he looking for me?

"I had to go, the baby needs to eat, we found what we needed and came back as soon as we could." He rationalised. "I wanted to keep looking for you, but the road to that area is blocked, we could only get around it with my bike. They said they'd find you, people split into groups lookin' for everyone."

I understood it all, but I still felt mad, and I let myself be mad. It was the only emotion I understood at the moment.

"I need my pill," I muttered.

Daryl's eyes widened in realization as Maggie called out for him. Quickly he gave me the bottle from his pocket and we returned to the room, he patted my back awkwardly before taking his poncho off and throwing it aside.

I took my pill and watched from the door of the cell block as Daryl bent over and slowly took the baby from Carl, hushing it softly as it cried.

"I'm sorry," Carl mumbled at the baby, repeating it a few times.

Daryl continued to hush the baby as Maggie handed him a baby bottle. Staring at the baby as he rocked and bounced it gently, I recognised the material it was wrapped in. With a churn in my stomach I realised the baby was not in a blanket, but one of Lori's shirts, she'd worn it just the day before.

As the baby quieted down and took the bottle Daryl smiled wide, looking down at the baby and around at the others. He looked happy, content, and the others seemed to match his expression.

I don't get it.

Lori and Jimmy died hours before, the baby is proof, a constant reminder of what killed Lori. Lori died when they took it out of her, she was dead because of it, why was everyone smiling? Even Axel was standing on the other side of the room with a grin, his arms crossed, no one cared he was there. My eyes went over the room, looking for the other prisoner, I found Oscar only a few feet away, watching Daryl with the baby.

I guess they really are staying. No one cares they're here.

"She got a name yet?"

"N-Not yet." Carl fumbled. "But I was thinking maybe Sophia."

I frowned at the name and shifted.

"Then there's Carol too."

My stomach fluttered and I stepped back, trying to make myself smaller in the shadows. Briefly, there was a swell of paranoia in my mind as I searched around the room, checking to see if anyone would look at me at the mention of Carol.

"And . . . Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, Patricia, or . . . Lori. I don't know." Carl listed off the rest of the names quickly, before turning away from the baby with his head down, the hat shielding his face.

Whatever it was we were doing, I didn't like it. I didn't like the idea of a dead name leaving someone's lips multiple times a day. As if the baby already wasn't enough of a reminder, she would have to be a reminder of Lori's death and someone else's.

My eyes wandered too much and my fingers fumbled. I considered leaving into the cell block, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

Daryl was quiet for a few moments, regarding Carl with a kind gaze and a few nods."Yeah?" He began to murmur at the baby. "You like that, huh? Lil' ass-kicker."

Soft laughs and chuckles filled the room as Daryl slowly spun in a circle, smiling at all of them, very proud of himself.

"Right? That's a good name, right?" He continued to grin as he asked for confirmation, already knowing the answer. "Lil' ass-kicker, you like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?"

There was something else I didn't like, I couldn't put my finger on the feeling. It wasn't the confusion about everyone's happiness, but I really didn't like the way he was speaking and staring at the baby. He seemed so sure, so happy and proud of himself.

Everyone except the prisoners gathered closer to Daryl, sharing smiles and laughs about it's name. They took turns holding the baby, speaking and cooing over it as it sucked the bottle.

"Toby," Daryl waved me over. "C'mon, come see her."

At first I kept silent, slightly shaking my head, not wanting anyone to notice. But he kept coaxing me over, causing me to feel anxious and apprehensive.

"No."

Daryl stopped and a few of them turned to me, the smiles gone and expressions sad. For a moment, I'd broken their spell and they seemed to recall what was going on, what that baby meant. But as soon as they could, they turned back to it, welcoming the escape from reality. Daryl's gaze lingered on me with a frown, but didn't say anything.

"That's a nice name."

I looked at Oscar, he'd come closer when I hadn't noticed, "Asskicker?"

He laughed, "no, I meant yours."

I grimaced, not understanding why he was giving me or my name any attention.

"It's a boys name," I replied in annoyance, knowing that was what was coming next. Everyone said it.

"Not really, it can be both. I knew another little girl named Toby. You made me think of her. She was my buddy's girl, was real close to him growing up."

"Oh," I hadn't expected that. It was nice to hear a different response about my name.

"You've got good people here." Oscar commented. "You're lucky."

Maybe, I thought. If he had said that before then, I would've believed it. Staying safe and living in the prison, as much as I didn't love it, was better than expected. Besides the stress of Hershel and Carol, we were living, we were making it work.

"It's different now," I mumbled.

"No, it's the same as it ever was." Guillermo spoke, passing us to go into the cell block. I hadn't even noticed him approaching or that he wasn't with the others. His eyes looked sad, almost regretful but they didn't meet my own. "The weak get taken."

My lips parted in astonishment, I turned around, watching his back as he walked into the cell block. I felt my jaw drop as I analyzed his words, taking a moment to understand what he'd said, what it meant. That rage deep inside began to boil, feeling defensive of the dead, one in particular.

I was able to just barely swallow my anger and control myself, but not before I gritted my teeth and said, "then why are you here?"

At first, I didn't know if he heard me. I'd said it quietly, attempting to suppress the rage that he was so talented at triggering.

Guillermo stopped and looked back at me, waving both his hands over his body in an exasperated shrug. "I ask myself that question every day."

The grief, sadness, and overflow of confusing emotions were too much for me. I'd even asked Daryl to take me outside, just for a minute, he'd told me no and continued on talking to T-Dog.

Retreating to my cell to escape the emotions and incessant screaming of the tiny, wriggling creature that everyone passed around had been ineffective. I could feel everyone's misery, including my own, and the wailing bounced off the walls, making it sound like it was only a few feet from me.

I fiddled around with the handmade bolt, trying to angle the feathers right and make it work, nothing seemed straight, or even or balanced. I banged my head against the desk and let out a groan of frustration.

It sucks, it's never going to work. Why am I bothering?

I shot up from my seat and stood in front of the desk, leaning over it awkwardly to shield what I was doing from the visitor. Daryl raised a curious eyebrow at me.

"Ya good?"

My lips pinched together and I shrugged, straightening my stance. At first I kept it hidden as a surprise, thinking I could do something cool and impressive, but at that moment I was hiding it out of embarrassment.

"We should get some rest." He suggested.

I gave a nod and followed him to the perch, plopping down on the mattress next to his.

"When do we go?" I finally asked him. I'd been wondering about it for a long time, but no one had brought it up and I didn't feel much like talking.

"Go?"

"When do we leave?" I crossed my legs and watched him lay down.

"We're not leavin'." Daryl began to understand. "We don't got nowhere else to go."

That explained why no one had spoken about it, but it didn't make sense to me. I spoke quietly, whispering, "they died here . . ."

"People are gonna die out there. We can't go back to runnin', not with the baby."

I understood what he meant hours later. The baby screamed all through the night, I heard the others talking, taking turns with it. Even Daryl went to help. Once it quieted down, it started up again later.

I was exhausted, my head pounded and felt foggy from how much I needed sleep. But even without the wailing baby, I wouldn't have been able to. I kept imagining Lori, walking around with a hand on her large belly.

I never even liked her. But I hated that she was dead.

Any time I was close to drifting off, I remembered what Jimmy's face looked like when I shot him. Expressionless and dead, but still somehow Jimmy.

I knew Carl would be awake. I wanted to go to him, sit with him and talk about anything. Whenever the others were busy we would be together, complaining about them or laughing about stupid stuff, reading comics.

But his words bounced around in my head, go away, go away.

I didn't fall asleep until I saw daylight shining through the windows, I fell asleep with a million questions dancing in my mind. Some of them about my mom. I wondered where she was. I wondered if she died. She probably did. Was it recent? A long time ago? For all I knew, she could have died that same day, or years before the dead walked.

Daryl wasn't there when I woke up, and I assumed he went down to the dining room area to get some breakfast. After taking a moment to recall everything from the day before, and muster on my blank face, I went to go find him.

There were a few people in the main room when I got there, all sitting around with bowls in their hands and eating.

Maggie saw me when I entered, and stood up from where she was sitting next to Glenn. She walked to the pot, using the large spoon to serve a bowl.

"Here you go," she handed me a bowl filled with some of the random porridge-like food that they cooked that morning.

Beth was at the table, holding the baby in her arms, rocking it back and forth and cooing at it. She looked up from the baby, sending a fake smile my way. I averted my eyes quickly. I could see the tears she'd been trying to hide. I wondered if she blamed me, if she even knew I shot Jimmy or just knew he died from the bite.

I sat next to Daryl on the steps, placing the bowl in my lap. Everyone was quiet, nobody even looking up from their food to speak to each other. The spoons scraping against the bowls was the only sound in the room. Oscar was standing behind the railing, he was leaning against the wall next to the stairs with his arms crossed.

"Morning, kiddo," he greeted.

I felt myself visibly flinch at the word, too late to stop it and wiped my expression blank a moment too late. I turned to Oscar, fixedly staring at him. I noticed his expression became puzzled at my glare, "Don't. Call me that." I bit out.

Oscar looked at Daryl, as if seeking some kind of help or confirmation. I didn't look away, keeping my glare on him, so I was unsure if Daryl even returned his gaze. When Oscar nodded, I went back to my food, my appetite gone, full with apprehension instead of food.

"Does anyone know when he's coming back? What could he even be doing in there?" Maggie asked the group, and I knew she was talking about Rick. He'd been gone all night and everyone was on edge. She turned to look at Glenn. "Are you sure he was okay?"

He shrugged. "He was fine when we saw him."

Glenn went to see Rick?

"He's fine?" Maggie questioned.

"Wasn't hurt or anything," Glenn clarified.

"My dad will be back," Carl chimed, his eyes planted on the table in front of him.

"He's been in there through the night," Hershel said, "just want to make sure everything's alright."

It's not.

Daryl shifted behind me, "Ain't nothin' right. Rick though, he'll come through."

I couldn't help it, the sound had barely registered in me before escaping. Something about the way Daryl said it, so confident and sure, it was laughable. The scoff came out so quickly I tried to stop halfway through, making it sound like more of a snort.

My eyes went around the room panickedly, luckily, no one had noticed. Except Daryl, who poked me with his boot and scolded me in a hushed tone, "cut that shit out."

"We can help him do that," Hershel explained, having not heard me or Daryl..

"Yeah," Daryl argued, "think so?"

"Well, maybe not us," Hershel said, and turned towards Beth as she entered the room holding the baby in her arms, "but she can."

The baby? How is that supposed to help Rick?

"Everybody okay?" Rick was standing at the door to the rest of the prison. Everyone straightened up and looked over at him.

Maggie was the first to respond. "Yeah, we are."

He pushed the door open, the screeching noise making me cringe. He entered the room and looked around, before turning towards Carl who was sitting next to Hershel at the table.

"What about you?" Hershel asked next.

"I cleared out the boiler block," Rick answered, looking down at Carl.

"How many were there?" Daryl spoke from behind me.

Rick seemed uneasy, I noticed that much. "I don't know, a dozen, two dozen. I have to get back, just wanted to check on Carl."

He placed his hand on Carl's shoulder, who's gaze went down to look at the table. Again, neither of them said a word to each other. Rick turned to the door, his hand still on Carl's shoulder, before stepping away.

Glenn stood up. "Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies. You don't have to."

Rick shook his head. "No, I do."

He didn't go to the door like I expected him to. Instead, he stood there for a moment and turned back to the group, marching towards Daryl.

"Does everyone have a gun and knife?" Rick stopped next to Daryl, his hand on the railing. I glared down at my food, unhappy with the closeness.

"Yeah," Daryl answered. "We're runnin' low on ammo though."

"Maggie and me were planning on making a run this afternoon," Glenn interjected. "Found a phone book with some places we can hit up, look for bullets and formula."

My ears perked at that and I looked his way. Is Daryl going? Maybe I can go. The thought of getting away, breathing fresh air from outside of the courtyard made me antsy.

"We cleared out the generator room, Axel's there trying' ta fix it in case of an emergency. T was goin' with him last I checked, didn't wanna be hangin' 'round here," Daryl said, "we're gonna sweep the lower levels as well."

"Good. Good."

Rick turned around and marched back towards the door just as quick as he had towards Daryl. Before he could make it out of the room, Hershel called his name for him to wait. Rick gave no reaction and slammed the door closed behind him.

Everyone exchanged awkward looks around the room, before going back to what they were doing. Carl ignored everybody, his arms on the table and looking at the tall windows from where he was sitting, trying to avoid eye contact.

I looked over my shoulder towards Daryl, but he had already gone back to his food. I didn't really want to eat, but I knew that Daryl probably wouldn't let me leave until I did.

"Ya done?" Daryl asked after a while.

I nodded and he took the bowl away. It wasn't long before everyone had dispersed, leaving the odd few people sitting at the tables to go and get a start on their jobs.

"Are you goin' on the run?" I asked Daryl, my eyes wandering to the window. I wanted to leave so bad.

"Huh?" His gaze flickered over me before realising what I meant. "Nah, that's just Glenn and Maggie, gonna be sweepin' the lower levels soon, make it safe again."

"Can I do somethin'?"

"Nah. Don't want ya out there, just stay in the cell block." Before I could protest he stalked off toward the cell block.

I didn't have a job, but I knew I wanted to help. I had no desire to hide in a cell or sit around and wait for the day to end. I heard the door open behind me as Glenn passed on the stairs. I decided to follow him, not wanting to be in the prison any longer than I had to.

Glenn was walking towards the nearest watch tower. We had been storing equipment in there, things like axes and shovels, until we had somewhere inside the prison to keep them. He opened the door and stepped inside, working his way to the back of the tower to reach the supplies.

"What're ya doin'?" I asked, and he stepped out with a shovel.

Glenn didn't answer at first, and looked down at the shovel in his hands. "I'm—uh. . . I'm going to get started on the . . . the uh—graves, before I head off on the run."

"Can I help?" I questioned.

"Help?"

"I can dig," I clarified, in case he didn't get it.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he started.

I ignored him and moved into the watchtower, fighting my way to the back to grab the second shovel. Glenn watched me stalk out and held the shovel in front of him. His mouth opened in protest but I gave him my best Daryl glare, daring him to tell me no. I felt very sure that if he did tell me no, I might have gone and done something else, though I wanted to stay and do something, I wasn't sure how much I'd fight for it.

Glenn's shoulders sagged and he sighed before closing the door to the tower. The corner of my mouth twitched in a tiny grin, happy to have won.

"Here should be good," Glenn stated quietly, after we'd walked to one edge of the field silently.

He stuck his shovel into the ground, pressing it down further with the bottom of his foot. I started a few feet behind him, working together to loosen the dirt and start the first hole together. We focused all our attention on the job at hand, not saying a word.

Glancing around at the open space, I breathed in deeply, enjoying the open space and fresh air. It felt better to be outside, rather than a large grey, stuffy room, heavy with grief and misery. But then my eyes went to the fence, and I felt trapped all over again.