The next morning we were still cleaning up and digging graves, dealing with grief (Andrea) and anger (Daryl) and something more complicated (Carol) when Jacqui yanked up Jim's shirt and showed us the bite. I didn't blame Daryl for being upset, but Jim was clearly not a threat at the moment and Daryl's overreaction seemed to be a culmination of everything that had happened over the past 24 hours crashing down on him.

When he stomped away toward our campsite, I followed him. "Daryl, can we talk for a minute?" He didn't respond, but he slowed down, and I caught up to him. "Thank you for last night. I didn't get a chance to say it with . . . everything . . . but thank you. I thought I wasn't going to make it." I put my hand on his shoulder blade and he shrugged it off and turned toward me, still angry. "Ya can't just wait to get yer ass saved Ana, ya hear? Learn to defend yourself for fucks sake! What the fuck were you doin' over there by yourself? Ya coulda died if I was two seconds too late!"

I was taken aback slightly at his raised voice but stood my ground. "I wasn't waiting to 'get my ass saved' Daryl. I tried to use my knife but I missed and it grabbed me. You're right, I don't know how to defend myself, but I promise I wasn't just assuming you'd be there." His nostrils flared as he glared at me, and then relaxed slightly, glancing away. "I'll show you how ta kill 'em. These things ain't stayin' in the city no more."

I nodded and shivered, despite the heat. "Yeah. It's just . . . going to shit even more, isn't it? I'm sorry about Merle, Daryl. It sounds like he got away though?" Daryl nodded, "Ain't nobody can kill Merle but Merle, like I told Rick. He'll be okay, but I can't say the same for any of these guys if they cross his path again." He raised his eyes to meet mine and rubbed the back of his neck. "Glad yer okay. Sorry fer yellin'," he mumbled and then walked away toward his truck.

I found myself thankful my oldest kid had recently reached preteen years because I'd gotten used to mood swings. Daryl popped off at the drop of a hat, mostly when other people tried to manipulate him, but he'd swing just as quickly back to being a steady and quiet presence, doing what needed to be done to keep the group safe and never complaining about the work or slacking off.

After burying our dead and sorting out our plans, we finally left for the CDC after quite a bit of discussion, where I ended up agreeing with Rick. I could envision brave scientists hunkered down in the CDC complex, still communicating with the outside, and I was desperate for news from the rest of the country.

Dale had confided in me that he saw Shane aiming a gun toward Rick in the woods, and he was clearly worried about it. I wasn't sure Shane would go so far as to hurt someone intentionally, but his mental state was definitely slipping. I promised to let Dale know if I noticed anything that was off and climbed into the passenger's seat of Daryl's truck as we parted ways with the Morales family and headed toward Atlanta.

Daryl had said before that we should stay away from the city, but he'd gone in to look for Merle and didn't argue with the CDC plan, so I figured the woods had become dangerous enough that the risk of venturing out was worth the possibility of salvation.