BLACK

by TheSarcasticKnight

The world ended, and she had questions upon questions. Where was she? Who was she? It didn't matter anymore. Where she was or who she used to be was useless information. The dead now ruled the world and they craved flesh regardless of who it belonged to or where they came from. The real question now, the only one that mattered anymore, was this: Who was she going to become?

2. Episode 02

A/N: Yay, chapter 2. Oh, hey, FYI, this story doesn't require knowledge in Supernatural (or even really TWD for that matter) to enjoy. I'm writing it in a way that starts at the beginning and explains it all. So don't be worried if you feel like you don't know enough about one show or the other to enjoy this story!

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Episode #02:

Search or Survive

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"She was the kind of girl who searched for the things that could never be found." –(m.l)

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My eyes snapped open in panic as I sucked in a deep breath. I was painfully aware of the fact that I was lying in a patch of grass, leaves, and dirt. There was an object, hard and sharp, pressed against my lower back, my entire body ached something awful, and now it felt like my foot was ablaze. Rather than continuing to stare at the spots of morning light peeking between tree branches, I forced myself to sit up.

It took every ounce of energy I had to hold back a groan of pain and pull myself to the side so I could lean up against the tree I had been lying beside. All around me were trees, and I couldn't help but wonder how the hell I had gotten so deep into the forest. Atlanta's skyline couldn't even be seen from where I was.

Atlanta.

Flashes of memory hit me as I recalled what lead me to where I was now. I had been running, sprinting, away from the dead and away from the man who saved me off the road. The monsters had gotten caught up at a fence that I crawled over, but I hadn't stopped at the other side to consider anything else. My fear kept me running and running until I was lost in the woods and the sun was gone. I vaguely remembered falling to the ground in exhaustion and not being able to get myself back up despite my best efforts.

Last night, I had been so sure it was going to be my last.

As my head pounded and consciousness left me, I was positive a walker was going to find me and rip me to shreds while I slept. Somehow though, I had made it through the night.

I had miraculously survived another day.

Guilt ate at me as my thoughts drifted back to Rick. What had happened to him? Did he wake up this morning safe or had he met his doom on the streets of Atlanta? My hand shakily drifted up to grab at the light brown lapel of his jacket and tightened around it in a white-knuckled fist. My stomach began to turn uncomfortably and before I could fully recognize the sickening feeling, I was leaning over to the right dry heaving. However, thanks to my bout of nausea yesterday and a lack of a meal, there was nothing in my stomach for my body to purge so I was left with a burning throat and the taste of stomach acid in my mouth.

'You gotta move. You gotta get going. You can't stay here.'

The thoughts were involuntary, almost unrecognizable, but they did the trick. The repeating mantra of a warning reminded me that I couldn't lean against this tree all day. I gritted my teeth in pain and pulled my right leg towards my body so I could grab my foot and examine the damage done. The skin at my heel and ball of my foot was rubbed raw and surrounding the missing skin was splotches of dark purple bruises. Worse than that were the random scratches and shards of glass pressed into my tender skin.

With a steadying breath, I began to pull the glass out of my foot while hissing profanities under my breath. Messing with the injuries tore at any of the scabs that had formed and now my foot was bleeding again. As if I needed any more blood loss. My eyes darted around until they landed on my book bag that was lying only a foot or two away from where I was. Knowing that I was tempting fate by sitting here with a bloody injury, I quickly dragged myself across the ground until I was able to reach the bag's strap and pull it into my arms.

I had yet to actually take inventory of what was in this bag, but the gauze I had spotted in the first aid kit yesterday would come in handy right now. The small kit still sat at the top of the bag and I didn't hesitate to pull it out alongside the Neosporin. I had no alcohol to clean the wounds, but I figured that was the least of my problems right now. My hands moved quickly and professionally as I rubbed the medicine into my wounds and used all the gauze to wrap up my foot. This whole amnesia thing was a real bitch to deal with, but words couldn't express how thankful I was that my body and mind could vaguely remember the medical training I had apparently gotten. I'd take that knowledge over random childhood memories any day of the week right now.

The sound of rustling leaves made my blood run cold as I froze in place. All I could picture was a mutilated walking corpse turning around the tree looking for fresh meat. I'd be the perfect early morning meal too considering I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to limp away in time, let alone run away. There was no more creepy rustling of the leaves around me, but I didn't take that as I a sign that I was safe. I shoved the first aid materials into my bag and began to search for the left flip flop I still had and a weapon of any kind.

The shoe was the easiest to find, and I slipped it onto my right foot ignoring how awkward it felt to be wearing a left flip flop on my right foot. The last thing I needed right now was a twig or rock tearing up the gauze. Finding a weapon in this bag was going to be the hardest part. At this point, I was just hoping I'd find a pen or something remotely sharp that I could use in an emergency.

Although, I wasn't really sure what the point would be. Could I really kill a walker with a pen? I doubted that I had the skills to do so and if I was close enough to one of those things that I could jam a pen in its head I'd be beyond hysterical. I lost my mind watching Rick shoot one.

I pushed aside a stack of folded clothes and my eyes widened in disbelief. There at the bottom of my bag was a big ass-hunting knife of some sort. I assumed it was a hunting knife, at least. Hesitantly, I pulled it out by the light brown wooden handle. The handle itself was worn down and connected to a polished silver blade that had the width of about two fingers. The end came to a slightly curved, sharp tip and one side of the blade was serrated. I turned it over in my hand and squinted at the engraved markings on the cold metal. It started at the base and went to the tip, but I hadn't the foggiest idea what it said. In fact, I didn't even know what language it was in. If I had to guess, I'd say maybe Arabic?

A low gurgling groan drifted through the air. Suddenly, I couldn't care less what the damn knife said or why the hell it was sitting in my bag. I zipped up my book bag, slung it over my shoulders, and moved as quickly as I could away from the area. The groan had sounded like it came from behind me so I walked forward. As I trekked through the forest I tried to look around and find some sort of landmark that I would remember from last night, but nothing stood out to me. It wasn't so much that nothing was familiar; the problem was that it was all too familiar. Every tree looked the same and it wasn't as if I was going to find a sign that pointed me in the direction of Atlanta.

The thought of Atlanta put a pit of fear in my gut, but I knew I had no choice. Rick had gone out of his way to stop and pull me out of that wreckage. He could've kept driving to search for his family, but he didn't and thanks to him I hadn't been eaten alive by the monster in the bushes. The possibility existed that Rick was already dead. His situation had been a hell of a lot worse than mine, but I chose not to think that way. Rick seemed like a smart, resourceful guy. He had to have made it out of that mess. Now for all I knew, he could be camped out in some building looking for an opportunity to escape and I was determined to be that opportunity. Fear or no fear, I couldn't do nothing. The idea of it didn't sit right with me.

I walked for about ten minutes at my slow pace before there was movement among the trees ahead of me. Excitement flooded my body at the thought of finding a friendly face, but that quickly died as my eyes landed on the sight of a lone walker stumbling slowly between trees. It was a guy, or at least it used to be. Its face was hollow around the eyes and a large chunk of its cheek was missing. That seemed to be the only wound on it.

How depressing was this new world I had woken up in? To die a terrible death only for your body to continue to roam the earth causing terror and mayhem was such a curse. It was terrible. It was gut wrenching. In that moment, a wave of pity washed over me. I wanted to put this wandering corpse to rest, but the idea of walking over and stabbing the dead guy was terrifying. Could I actually do it? Yesterday had been a different story. I knew more about the situation now. My hand tightened around the knife and I took a shaky step forward. At the sound of my movement though, the walker turned its head in my direction and its blood shot eyes locked onto mine. A quiet squeal of panic slipped from my lips as I stumbled backwards.

The walker was no longer stumbling along anymore. It had a goal and a mission and it was coming towards me at a normal gait. The walker's arms were outstretched towards me as its fingers twitched and its jaw hung loosely. My mind was screaming at me to turn and run, to sprint away until I passed out from exhaustion again, but my body had other plans for me. My feet remained planted where they were with no signs of moving. The walker was only a couple yards away from me now. If my body refused to run then I needed to prep my mind for a fight, but the fear and panic in my head was so loud that I could barely think. The walker let out a growl and I threw my arm forward in pure reaction.

A familiar knife buried itself in the walker's eye socket and the corpse fell backwards at the force of it. It took me a moment before I realized that the knife that had saved my life was my own damn knife. I stumbled over toward the dead walker while staring at my dominant hand in pure disbelief. Did I just do that? Had that really just happened? Hesitantly, I reached down to try and pull the knife out, but at the sight of it sticking through eye like it was I felt sick again and had to take a few steps back.

I took a few steadying breaths and managed to bite back the bulk of the nausea I felt. Granted, I couldn't tell if that self-control came from self-improvement or just being distracted by the pure shock of what I had just done. With one more breath, I closed my eyes and quickly reached down to pull the knife out. A disgusting squishing noise filled the air as the knife tore free from the socket it was lodged in. I turned so my back was to the walker and slowly opened my eyes. The knife had gunk on it, but I thanked the heavens that the eyeball hadn't come up with the blade. I wouldn't have been able to stomach that.

There was more movement happening out of the corner of my eye and I glanced away from my knife in panic, expecting another walker. Instead, a living man stepped out from behind a patch of trees with a crossbow raised in my direction, "Hey!"

I threw my hands up in surrender at the sight of him and let the knife fall to the ground, "Don't shoot! Oh God, please!"

The man took a step closer. His light brown hair was short and messily brushed the top of his ears and fell about mid-way down his forehead. The guy had a narrowed jaw line and light blueish gray eyes that were currently narrowed at me in suspicion. He wore an olive-green sleeveless shirt over dark pants.

"I'm sorry! I'm- just- please don't shoot!" I continued to yell out. Oh God. Here I was terrified of walkers and now I was going to be killed by some redneck with a crossbow. This wasn't right. This was unjust. This was bullshit.

He rushed forward a few steps, "Will you shut it?"

"Please! I-"

The guy shifted the crossbow slightly pulled the trigger. I let out a short scream while shutting my eyes tightly. Something heavy fell to the ground behind me and I forced myself to peek one eye open. The redneck had lowered his crossbow, but his glare still remained. I turned slightly to see a walker lying about ten feet behind me with an arrow lodged in its head.

"You…" I breathed in shock and spun back around to stare at him. The guy let out a huff and began to walk towards me again. I flinched as he got near, but he passed by without a second glance. It was then that I noticed he had a line of dead squirrels hanging from his shoulder down his back. He was out hunting. "You saved me."

Once again, he ignored me, but I wasn't about to let that phase me. He was the first living person I'd seen since Rick. Quickly, I grabbed the knife off the ground and rushed toward him just in time to see him yank the arrow out of the walker's head and rub the rotted blood off the bolt and onto his pants.

"Um…sorry, to bug you. Sir?"

The guy turned around and gave me a glance over. His eyes lingered on my feet before tracing back up to my eyes, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm- uhh…" I began to speak only to draw a sudden blank. What the hell was my name again? Shit, this wasn't happening. What kind of moron forgets their damn name? Even amnesia seemed like a poor excuse for that.

"Well?" He barked.

"Tori!" I blurted out as the name came back to mind. Tori? Victoria was my name, but Tori must have been what I went by. I vaguely remembered seeing it on the back of the picture I had found, "My name is Tori or Victoria. Either one but uhh…" A breath of relief escaped me and I gave him a wide smile, "Thank you so much for saving me."

He still looked skeptical and his eyes darted over to dead walker closest to me. He nodded in its direction, "How'd you kill that one?"

"I threw my knife at it?" I rubbed the back of my neck with my free hand. He raised an eyebrow at me, "It was sort of an accident."

He looked even more confused than before, but didn't press further than that on the subject. He scoffed, "You alone?"

"Yes. Well, no, actually— I mean, I am right now, but I have a friend in the city." I shook my head and tried to calm down enough to actually speak in coherent sentences, "We were attacked yesterday and everything…everything went to hell. I ran and sort of passed out, but he could still be in the city! I think he needs my help."

The guy stuck the arrow in his hands with the others and slung the crossbow over his shoulder using the strap that was connected to it, "Your friend's dead."

Without another word, he began to walk away without even a backward glance at me. He got about ten feet away before it actually clicked in my mind that he was leaving me behind.

"Wait! Wait, no!" I yelled and jogged after him. A hiss of pain left my lips, but I refused to slow down. I'd catch up with this guy even if it meant making my injuries worse. The guy didn't slow down or glance back at me. "Can you help me?" I was only a few steps behind him now, "I can't go down there alone. Hell, I don't even know which way Atlanta is, but my friend-"

"Is dead. Now, get."

"Please, you don't understand-"

He suddenly stopped and I nearly crashed into his back. The guy whipped around and I jumped back in surprise at his hostile glare, "I said get. You're scaring all the game away."

"I'm a hunter too!" I announced without thinking. My eyes narrowed in confusion at the words, but it didn't sound false from my lips. I had no memory of tracking an animal and shooting it dead, but something about that term seemed to define me. It was like an identity that some part of my mind refused to let go, "I mean, I think I am. Pretty sure…ish."

He scoffed and shook his head, "Are you stupid or somethin'?"

"No, I just hit my head." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Now that the fear of being eaten was gone, my mind was focusing back on my left shoulder that stung something awful, my aching face, and not-in-awesome condition foot. What I would give for a bed and a good's night sleep. "It was a car accident and I can't- I can't remember anything except waking up in my car and meeting my friend." I pulled my hand away and focused my gaze on his eyes, "The friend that needs our help!"

He shook his head in irritation, "I told you already. I ain't helpin' you, so get lost."

The guy turned and continued to stalk off. My face scrunched up in determination. I rushed forward and shoved past him so I was standing in his path with my shoulders squared in an attempt to look intimidating. It apparently didn't work because he let out another scoff and tired to push past me. Before he could, I began to speak again, "He saved my life. He's a good guy, a cop. This is his jacket." I motioned toward the patch that looked like a badge as if it were evidence to my words. "I can't help him by myself. I don't know these woods, my face feels like I've been punched repeatedly, something is wrong with my shoulder, plus I-" I let out an exasperated sigh and motioned downward, "I don't even have a real pair of shoes…"

I watched as his eyes glanced back down at my feet. He locked his jaw and I hoped I was somehow winning him over. I pressed my lips together and took a step toward him, "Please. Please, help me. I know you don't owe me anything. In fact, I owe you considering you just saved me, but…please?"

He was quiet for a moment, as I took in his features one more time. What had seemed so hard and harsh at first had softened since then. His gaze was still cold, but there was consideration in those blue eyes and maybe even something that looked like a sliver of compassion. He let out an annoyed sigh, "I'm headin' back to my camp. Maybe one of those idiots'll help you out. That 'nough?"

A face splitting grin spread across my features, "Yes! That's fine! Thank you!"

"Fine." He shook his head, "Now keep your damn trap shut an' follow me."

He breezed by me and I didn't hesitate to follow after him with my knife tucked in between my waistband and belt. It was hidden by Rick's jacket, which was too big for me. I licked my lips, "So, can I get your name?"

The guy didn't reply immediately, but after a pause he finally spoke, "Daryl."

I gave him another smile even though he wasn't even looking back at me, "I really appreciate this, Daryl. Thanks again."

"Whatever." He mumbled in return.

The two of us walked together in silence with me staying one step behind him the entire time. Daryl didn't offer any words of conversation or even an apology for lack thereof. It didn't necessarily bother me though. Daryl didn't strike me as the social kind of guy. I still felt lucky that he didn't shoot me for pestering him.

As we walked, I noticed how quiet and careful Daryl's steps were. I tried to match his movements in an attempt to silence my steps, but it wasn't entirely working out in my favor. Maybe it was because of my shoes, or my injuries, or maybe I had just been a lousy hunter, but I seemed to step on every possible twig on the ground. I knew Daryl could tell too because every once in a while he would shoot me an annoyed glare over his shoulder and I would reply with a sheepish smile.

I had been following him a while when Daryl came to a sudden stop. I followed his example and glanced around expecting the worst, "Walker?"

"What?" Daryl hissed in response, sparing me only a quick glance.

"One of the dead guys? Are we in danger?"

"Found that damn deer." He replied gruffly. "Keep quiet."

Daryl continued forward, following a trail that I couldn't see, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was interrupt this guy's little hunting trip, but I was beginning to grow impatient. I really had no concept of time right now. It felt like I had been following Daryl for at least an hour now, but my sensible side told me that probably wasn't true. However, regardless of the exact amount of time that's passed, the longer I spent walking around the woods following Daryl and his deer the lower Rick's chance of survival got.

I laced my hands together and scrunched my face up as I mentally worked up the courage to speak to Daryl. I was fully aware that the sound of my voice was just going to annoy him right now.

"So hey, Daryl? How far is your camp? I mean, are we close at all?"

"Shh." He snapped.

I twisted my lips in annoyance hoping that he would turn around and see how personally annoyed I was, but Daryl didn't give me that satisfaction. He just kept walking forward with his crossbow slung across his back right next to the dead squirrels.

It didn't take me as long to build up my courage this second time. Mostly because this time I was fueled by determination and frustration, "Can you just point me in the direction of your camp? I'll go on my own and you can go find your stupid deer."

Daryl stopped and slowly turned around. His glare was intimidating as hell, but I refused to let my hesitance and slight fear show on my face. If I could face walkers then I could handle some redneck jerk, "Listen, I don't even have to show you where the damn camp is. You think I'mma let some injured, loud mouth go runnin' 'round the woods?" Daryl scoffed then sneered at me, "You'd get yourself killed an' your blood'd be on my hands."

I put my hands on my hips, "I killed that walker back there just fine on my own!"

"Then you just 'bout lost your damn mind when I showed up!"

"You were pointing a crossbow at me!"

I didn't want to argue with this guy. He had saved my life, and then offered me help at his camp, and now I was barking at him in the middle of his hunt. I felt ungrateful, but I couldn't just linger behind him and stay quiet. I was tired, I was hurt, I was scared, and above all else I wanted to fix what had gone wrong. His glares and slow pace had only pushed my aggravation right over my apparent limit.

"Can't believe I let you follow me." Daryl muttered and shook his head.

"I can't believe I followed you." I retorted. "I tried to explain nicely that I was on a time crunch, but you-"

"Keep your damn voice down, woman." Daryl barked roughly. "Any louder and you'd be-"

Two shrill screams echoed faintly through the air. Both sounded young. I blinked in shock, "Screaming?"

Daryl pulled his crossbow into a ready position and suddenly took off into the woods without pause. He didn't glance back to see if I was following and something told me that at this point he didn't really care. I tried to race after him, to keep his pace, but my foot just couldn't take it after a minute or so of following him. For a moment, his figure was still in my line of sight, but it eventually disappeared. Hopefully, the redneck didn't take any sudden turns and I'd make it to wherever he was going just by going straight.

A few minutes of me struggling through the woods passed before faint voices drifted through the air. I was still too far to make out what the voices were saying, but I took them as a good sign. I picked up my pace as much as I could and a minute or so later I could hear Daryl yelling.

"-motherless, proxy, bastard!"

I rolled my eyes. Yes, that was most definitely the voice of the redneck I had been following. Any annoyance I had felt toward him earlier though passed because I could hear more than just his voice now. Someone else was speaking and that meant I had made it to his camp. I was now one step closer to helping the lost cop in the big, graveyard of a city.

With a groan, I fought with the thick bushes that blocked me from where the voices were coming from. My arms chaotically shoved the branches away, but one slipped and caught me in my already sore face. Luckily, it wasn't a thick branch and only the leaves hit me. It still stung like a bitch though and I cursed under my breath before throwing myself through the last of the brush and stepping into a wide, circular clearing.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl cried out and I took in the sight of him standing next to a dead deer that had its throat ripped out. Beside it was a headless body, and just a few feet from that headless body was the head itself. Despite being disconnected from the body, the head was slightly rocking side to side as it snapped its mouth in hunger. I paled at the sight of it. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?"

An arrow suddenly lodged into the head's eye socket making me jump in shock. I lifted my gaze to see Daryl scoff at the damn thing. I threw my hands up in his direction and he glanced over at the movement, "Hi. Remember me?"

Daryl rolled his eyes and didn't reply. Instead, he bent over to grab his arrow. Rather than watching the disgusting sight of an arrow being pulled out of a head, I took in the rest of my surroundings. I remembered the other voices I heard and realized that me and Daryl weren't the only ones in the clearing.

There were four other men in the clearing, but before I could soak in their details I noticed a very familiar face staring at me with wide eyes and disbelief written on his face.

"Rick?" I gasped. He had traded his police uniform for blue jeans and a white t-shirt, but this was him. I lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug. The relief of seeing this familiar face alive and well made me squeeze my arms around him tightly, ignoring the sharp pain from my shoulder. He chuckled and returned the hug, but I was quick to yank myself back so I could look at him again. "I thought you were- I ran into the woods and blacked out. I wanted to go back and find you, but I got lost out there. I'm so sorry! Rick-"

Rick shook his head and used his free hand to grip my uninjured shoulder comfortingly, "Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. God, I can't believe you're here." He chuckled again, "I actually planned to go back to the city to see if I could find you. That and I needed to…" His voice trailed away and I watched as his eyes darted over to Daryl who was looking over the dead deer in irritation and disgust. His clear, blue eyes snapped back to me briefly before he turned to the guy standing on his left, "This is who I was talking about."

The guy on his left was the youngest of the men, looking to be in his early twenties. He had a red, baseball cap over his jet-black hair and wore a dark blue t-shirt with a white, light blue striped button up over it. If I had to take a guess, I'd say he was either Japanese or Korean, but I couldn't tell for sure. "Oh, the one with amnesia?" He shrugged at Rick, "I told you she had a better chance of getting out of the city than we did." His friendly, dark brown eyes turned back to me as he offered me a smile, "My name is Glenn. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you." I replied with a bob of my head, "I'm, uh, I'm Victoria."

"I'm Dale." An older man standing next to Glenn spoke up. He wore a white wife beater with a tropical colored button up shirt over it, light cargo pants, and a fishing hat. He had a white and gray beard and a bright smile, "Do you go by Victoria entirely? Or maybe Vicky?"

I didn't like the sound of 'Vicky' whatsoever. My nose scrunched up in distaste and I shook my head once, "You can call me Tori."

Dale nodded and Rick cleared his throat to regain my attention. He smiled at me and motioned to the guy who was standing on his right. He wore a tight, brown shirt with a gold badge insignia on the left side of his chest. The shirt was tucked into dark green cargo pants and I couldn't help but notice the gun at his hip. "This is Shane. He was my partner back in King's County."

Shane readjusted the tan baseball cap over his curly black hair in greeting, "Ma'am."

I nodded back at him in slight confusion. This Shane guy was staring at me skeptically, nearly a glare. Rick began to speak again and my gaze shot back to him, "Victoria, my wife and kid are here. Lori and Carl are here."

"That's fantastic, Rick!" I congratulated him and he broke out in a wide grin that made his face light up. The words were said with sincerity. I was beyond happy that Rick had found his family, but there was an ache in my chest that reminded me that I hadn't. I hadn't found my family, I hadn't even figured out who they were, and now I felt alone in that battle. I didn't have an ally by my side looking for their loved ones too. "I'm- I'm really happy for you."

And once again, I meant every word.

"Merle!" Daryl yelled and it was only then that I realized he was still in the clearing. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Daryl walk away from the deer and toward what I assumed to be the edge of camp. Rick and Shane were quickly following after him. I narrowed my eyes in confusion again. Rick shot me a quick glance before turning his attention away. What exactly was going on right now? What had I walked into?

"So you have an…interesting choice of shoes." Glenn spoke up. He came up to walk on my left as Dale came to stand on my right.

I glanced down sheepishly, "Yeah, I lost a boot in the car accident. Flip flops were all I had left, but I lost my right flip flop while running and now… Now I'm just kind of a train wreck."

Glenn laughed and Dale shook his head in reassurance, "We'll find you a real pair of shoes to wear. Get your injuries bandaged up too. Rick mentioned that you were an ER doctor?"

I shrugged as the three of us began to walk toward the camp, "I think so. I mean, I remember graduating, but I don't think I ever actually got to start my residency."

"That's still very impressive." Dale replied.

Glenn nodded, "And helpful. Very, very helpful."

Up ahead was an RV parked at the top of a small slope with a few other cars around it, including a jeep on one side and an expensive looking red car that had been stripped for parts. It was missing a tire and the hood was propped open as someone dug around in the front engine wearing a blue, work jumpsuit. In front of the RV, was a small group of women, two blondes and one brunette, who were whispering to each other and glancing over in the direction we came from. There were a few other people sitting around a small campfire that had a pot sitting over it, and even more people on the opposite side of where the RV was standing on the downward slope to where a patch of tents were set up.

"Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel." Daryl yelled. Rick and Shane were just a few steps behind him as he set his crossbow down and kept the line of squirrels hanging off his shoulder. "Let's stem 'em up."

Shane cleared his throat and stepped around the redneck to stand in his path. Much like I had done in the woods earlier. I couldn't see Daryl's reaction to this, though I could guess he was wearing the annoyed glare I had gotten so used to, but I could see the looks on the faces of the people all around the camp. The women by the RV had dread in their eyes and it was only then that I realized they hadn't been looking at me when Glenn, Dale, and I came strolling up. They were watching the happenings of the group of men that came before us. I glanced back over at Shane who spoke up, "Daryl, just give me a sec. I need to talk to you."

A hand wrapped around the crook of my elbow and I glanced over to see a wide-eyed Glenn begin to tug me toward the RV. I shot him a questioning look and even started to dig my heels into the ground, but the look he shot me was downright pleading.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later." He murmured.

"What you got to say?" Daryl's voice seemed loud, but I guessed that was only because of how quiet everyone else was being around us. I glanced back over at the redneck and noticed how tense his shoulders seemed. Even when I was bugging him out in the woods, the guy seemed relaxed and sure of every step he took, but now he was on edge and stiff.

Shane cupped the back of his neck and slowly shook his head, "It's about Merle. There was a- there was a problem in Atlanta."

"Merle was Daryl's older brother." Dale stage whispered from my left making me slightly jump. I hadn't even realized that he followed Glenn and I over to the RV. My focus drifted back to his words though. Something had apparently happened to Daryl's brother in Atlanta, and I seriously doubted that something was anything good. The trip through the woods hadn't exactly made Daryl and I best buddies, but my heart went out for the guy.

Daryl apparently didn't need Shane to elaborate on the statement, "He dead?"

"We're not sure." Shane replied and I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

This conversation had taken a turn I hadn't expected, and Daryl must have felt the same way considering he took a step toward the officer, "He either is or he ain't!"

Daryl took a few steps back from Shane and turned so he was now facing me. Any glare I had seen on him before paled in comparison to the one he wore now. His eyebrows were drawn together in anger and frustration and his jaw was clenched tightly. Daryl's head snapped to the side as Rick stepped forward, "There's no easy way to say it, so I'll just say it."

It must have really sucked for Rick to be the bearer of bad news this many times within a 24-hour period. Daryl was facing Rick now, rather than Shane, so I could still see the side of his face, "Who the hell are you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes." Daryl scoffed as his voice took an edge of defensiveness. It almost sounded mocking, "You got somethin' you want to tell me?"

Rick took a deep breath, "Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on the roof. Hooked him to a piece of metal."

It took a few seconds before the statement made actual sense in my head. Rick handcuffed a guy to a roof? How big of a danger had he been to lead to a punishment like that? Unless, Rick overshot the situation. Had the officer overreacted? Rick seemed like a levelheaded guy, a good levelheaded guy.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced over to see an African American guy walk into camp carrying an armful of chopped wood. There had been a pleasant look on his face, but the moment he noticed the tense situation happening the small smile fell and he juggled the wood in his arms, nearly dropping them all.

"Hold on. Lemme process this." My eyes shot back to a livid Daryl, "You're sayin', you handcuffed my brother to a roof…" Daryl shook his head as fire filled his glare, "And then you left 'im there!?"

Rick didn't immediately answer. His eyes darted away, his jaw clenched then unclenched, then finally he glanced back at Daryl with a quick nod, "Yeah."

More tense silence filled the area. Everyone was waiting on baited breath to see what would happen. Daryl didn't move, I wasn't even sure if he was actually breathing, he just glared at Rick. Suddenly, Daryl ripped the line of dead squirrels off his shoulder and chucked them at Rick's head. I gasped as Rick ducked under the dead animals.

Daryl charged forward with a yell, but Shane interrupted the attack by tackling him to the ground. I took a step back as the two men on the ground wrestling came a bit closer, and Glenn side-stepped so his left side was partially in front of me. Daryl shoved Shane off him and rolled to his feet. In one fluid motion, he pulled the knife out from the sheath on his belt and lunged back towards Rick.

"Rick!" I yelled out in a poor attempt to warn him. It was pure reaction to cry out and I nearly added that he should watch out for the knife. As Rick ducked under Daryl's bladed attacks, I was certain that Rick was very, very aware of the damn knife. Someone shouted something from off to the side, but I didn't catch the words and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the fight to see who spoke.

In a few quick movements, movements that were a blur to me, Rick managed to knock the knife out of Daryl's hand and kick it away from the scene. Shane came up from behind and wrapped his arms around Daryl's neck in a tight headlock.

"You best let me go!" Daryl roared as he grabbed at Shane's arm and tried to shake the man off.

"Nah", Shane shook his head. I could see his muscles flex as he tightened the hold, "I think it's better if I don't."

Daryl grunted and continued to struggle, "Choke hold's illegal!"

"You can file a complaint." Shane replied. Daryl refused to stop struggling and Shane scoffed, "Come on man, I can keep this up all day."

Rick stepped forward as Shane forced Daryl down to his knees, arms still around his neck. Rick knelt down so he was eye level with the redneck, "I would like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Daryl only glared at Rick in response and unsuccessfully tried to shake Shane off him again. Rick repeated his words, "Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl stopped struggling finally and sucked in deep breaths of air. His glare was still leveled at Rick, but neither men made the move to talk. Shane released Daryl and took a few, wide steps back. The redneck fell forward so hands were pressed into the dirt. His face couldn't be seen, but his shoulders heaved up and down a few times before he shoved himself off the ground hard enough that he rolled back into a seated position. It was only in that moment that I noticed the absolute grief and frustration in his eyes. Before, the anger and confusion had been so prominent that nothing else really stood out, but now I couldn't notice any other emotion.

"What I did was not on a whim." Rick spoke up. He was still knelt down in front of Daryl. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

Daryl scoffed at the words and turned his head to the side so he was no longer looking at Rick, and I could no longer see his face.

"It's not Rick's fault." The same someone who yelled earlier spoke again. The guy carrying the wood stepped further into the clearing and tossed the wood aside in the direction of the small campfire.

Glenn leaned toward me, but his eyes remained glued to the scene, "That's T-Dog. He was there."

I nodded, but I wasn't sure if Glenn even noticed. T-Dog was coming closer to the scene, but stopped when he was still a few feet away. He began to shake his head, guilt lined his features, "I had the key, but…I dropped it, man."

"You couldn't pick it up!?" Daryl barked from the ground. He turned his body so he could look over his shoulder at T-Dog. The man flinched and I assumed Daryl was shooting him the nastiest of glares he could manage.

"I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog finished.

Daryl scoffed again and dropped his gaze to the ground between his legs. Seeing the man sitting on the ground, so defeated and alone, made me feel guilty and I hadn't even been a part of what happened to his brother. Still, I was part of the group that stood around him watching the scene unfold. I was part of the group that was watching his pain.

He slowly moved back to all fours and pushed himself off the ground. Rick quickly stood back up, his back rim rod straight, as Daryl rocked on his heels. Daryl scoffed and turned to storm past T-Dog. He threw his arm out, sending a handful of dirt at the man's legs.

"If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Maybe this will." T-Dog blurted and Daryl came to a hesitant stop, "Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get to him." Geeks? It sounded like he was talking about the Walkers. I doubted a herd of men in glasses with pocket protectors were trying to get to the man left on the roof. "I used a padlock."

Rick spoke up, "It's gotta count for something."

Daryl turned completely so he was facing the men again. He glanced away briefly, rubbing his face with the back of his hand, then threw that same hand out with a scoff, "Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so's I can go get 'im."

The scene had been so intense and drama filled that I had completely forgotten about the women who stood only a few feet away from me. They didn't cross my mind again until the skinny, dark haired woman separated from the group with her arms crossed, "He'll show you." There was bitterness in her voice and I wasn't the only one staring at her. Her eyes, however, were glued to Rick. "Isn't that right?"

I glanced over at Glenn hoping I'd get another side note explaining who the hell she was, but he was too engrossed in the conversation happening. Rick rubbed his jawline with his hand, not letting his gaze leave from the woman. Slowly, he nodded and glanced back over in Daryl's direction, "I'm going back." Rick's eyes suddenly darted over to me and the eye contact I made with him surprised me. Something about all of this made me want to be unseen. Just a fly on the wall. "I was already planning on it for…"

I assumed the end of that sentence was meant for me, but it caused others to look in my direction. I could feel their curious eyes and it made me want to sink into the ground. What the hell was even happening? I had been in this camp for less than ten minutes and already it felt suffocating. As much as I wanted to be around people, I also didn't want to deal with a bunch of drama. I had enough issues of my own to handle.

Curiously, I glanced back over at the dark haired woman to see she had been staring at me too. Awkwardly, I offered her a small smile, but she turned on her heel in response and marched into the RV. What was her problem?

A familiar scoff made me glance over to see Daryl marching out of camp. At his departure, others began to break apart and go back to whatever it was they had been doing before all this.

"Hey." Glenn caught my attention, then nodded in a different direction.

I followed the nod to see Rick quickly walking toward me. Behind him, Shane was looking off in to the distance shaking his head in distaste, "Listen", My eyes darted back to his worried features, "I have to…never mind. You need to get your wounds properly cleaned. You need to get off that foot too."

"Oh." I mumbled and glanced back down at my gauzed up foot. Blood was beginning to spread from the bottom to the top of the bandages.

"I got her." Glenn offered. Rick gave him a quick, relieved nod before setting his hand against my elbow briefly then turning to leave.

Dale lifted his arm toward the RV, "I have an old first aid kit in one of my cabinets."

"Thanks, guys." I said toward both men. Dale took the lead and didn't hesitate to enter the RV. Glenn walked beside me, but I noticed his steps slow down as we got near the two blonde women who were still standing outside the RV door. They glanced over at me, and now I could see the similarities between the two of them. They had to be sisters or cousins or something.

"Hi there!" One of them spoke up brightly. She wore a white shirt decorated with black stars and her blonde hair fell around her shoulders in a straight curtain. She definitely looked like the younger of the two. "I'm Amy. This is my sister Andrea."

I glanced over at Andrea who had her wavy, blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. She wore a white tank top with a denim-patterned shirt over it. She offered a friendly smile that I returned before looking back to Amy, "Nice to meet you both. I'm Vic- uh, I'm Tori."

"Tori?" Dale's voice called from the RV. I excused myself from the two of them before hurrying into the RV. Dale stood near the back, where a medium sized bed sat, digging through a lower cabinet, "I'm certain it's here somewhere."

"It's ok if you can't find it, Dale." I replied before glancing over at a small table where three pairs of eyes were stared at me. One was the brunette woman from earlier, but the other two were kids, one boy and one girl. The little girl had short sandy, brown hair and wore a purple shirt. Freckles decorated her cheeks, and the moment she noticed my attention was on her she sunk in her seat and averted her eyes. The boy next to her had a white shirt had a paw print on the front. He also had dark brown hair and blue eyes that looked vaguely familiar. I grinned at him, "Hey, you must be Rick's boy, right? Umm…Carl?"

The boy's face lit up, "Yeah! Are you Victoria? My dad talked about you."

"That's me. You can call me Tori though." I introduced myself.

Carl motioned toward the girl next to him, "This is my friend, Sophia."

"Hi Sophia." I said in the friendliest tone I could muster, "It's really nice to meet you."

"Hi." She met my eyes shyly, but there was a small smile on her features now.

The woman across from them suddenly stood up and my eyes shot to her. She was offering me a smile, but it didn't reach her distrusting, hazel eyes. She must have still been pissed about what happened earlier, "It's good to know you made it out of Atlanta. I'm Lori, Rick's wife."

This was his wife? The thought had occurred to me in the back of my head, I suppose. I guess I had just assumed that her and Rick would've been too ecstatic to see each other again to fight so soon. It made sense the more I thought of it though. She was probably pissed he was already planning to go out again, but it wasn't like Rick had a bad reason. Still, it must have been hard on her.

I readjusted my smile, "Oh, yeah. Hi, it's nice to meet you."

Lori crossed her arms, "So, you're the girl that Rick saved off the side of the road."

First things first, I didn't appreciate being referred to as a 'girl' in such a negative, derogative tone. Not only did it seem kind of disrespectful, toward someone she was just meeting, but also it meant she saw me as a child. A child she didn't really feel like dealing with. Everything about that single sentence shocked me and it took me a moment to find something to say back to her.

"Um. Yeah. That's me, I guess." I pressed my lips together in confusion. Had I offended her in some way already? Was she unhappy that her husband saved my damn life?

"Found it!" Dale shouted. Lori glanced over her shoulder, but I didn't tear my eyes away from her. Maybe all of this could be equated back to her having a pissy day. I'd give her the benefit of the doubt. "Here you go, Tori."

Lori sat back down at the table and now Dale stood where she had been. I took the medium sized box from him, "Thanks so much, Dale. Is there somewhere I can wash up? I can bandage myself up afterwards."

"Well sure. There's a lake right down the hill in the old quarry." Dale motioned toward the door and the two of us began to leave, "Do you need help with your wounds?"

"Nah, I should be able to handle it, I think."

Andrea and Amy were still right outside of the RV, but Glenn had disappeared from sight. Dale spoke up from behind me, "Do you think you can show Tori down to the quarry to get cleaned up?"

"Sure thing." Andrea nodded.

"You're in good hands." Dale commented before walking away from the RV.

I turned back to face the sisters when Lori spoke up from behind me suddenly, "Tori?" When I spun around, Lori was only a few steps away standing at the base of the RV stairs. "Can I have my husband's jacket?"

"What?" I replied and she narrowed her eyes before motioning toward me with her hand. It suddenly dawned on me that I was still wearing Rick's jacket. "Oh. Right, yeah, sorry." Quickly, I held the first aid kit between my legs, took my book bag off, and then shrugged out of the jacket before handing it over to her, "Sorry about the er- blood stains. I sort of bled...a lot."

Lori smiled firmly before folding the jacket in her hands and turning back into the RV. After pulling my bag back on, I turned back around Andrea and Amy wore amused looks on their faces as they gave each other knowing, side glances.

"So…" I broke the silence that had formed, "Quarry?"

"Follow us." Amy chirped and began to march down the campsite's hill.

I walked after her, Andrea right behind me, and was surprised to hear the woman let out a low hiss, "Damn, your shoulder looks rough."

While still walking, I glanced over my right shoulder to try and catch a look at it, "Really?" The shirt on top of my shoulder was stained a dark red and with the way it hurt I was sure the injury must have been pretty bad. "It's probably from the car accident."

"Hey!" Glenn's voice rang out. I focused back in the direction we were walking in to see Glenn standing off to the side by a dark blue tent. In his hands was a pair of low cut, dark brown boots. The boots seemed designed more for fashion than survival, but I was hardly in the position to start being picky.

I smiled, "Those for me?"

"Yeah, I had Glenn grab them from Andrea and I's tent." Amy replied, "It's not like I'm wearing them or need more than one pair these days."

Glenn stepped beside me and began to walk by my side, "So you and Rick met by the side of the road, right?"

"Yeah, I was in a car accident. He pulled me out of the wreckage." I nodded. Andrea picked up her pace so she could walk by her sister ahead of Glenn and I. I could tell the two of them were still listening to what I said though. "Rick caught me up to speed for the most part. I couldn't really remember anything."

Amy spoke up without glancing back, "That must be so horrible. You don't even remember your family?"

Her words made my heart ache as I once again realized that I truly didn't remember shit. Sure, it was nice to have the knowledge to care for wounds and what not and I was happy to have those memories back in the woods, but now that I was safe for the moment I kind of preferred it the other way.

"Nope." I replied bluntly and hoped that my tone didn't sound too discouraging.

Glenn nodded, "He mentioned that he was taking you to Atlanta to see if you could find a familiar face."

I smiled, "Yeah. Hey, he found his family. Maybe I'll have similar luck?"

"I'm sure you will." Glenn replied encouragingly.

The sisters delved into a conversation of their own, and by their hushed tones I figured it was one that wasn't meant for my ears. However, Glenn was great company to have. The laid-back man pointed out different people as we passed them and even stopped to introduce me if we were close enough and they weren't busy.

I got to meet a frail woman named Carol with very short, gray hair and kind smile. She was apparently the mother to Sophia, the girl from earlier, but when I asked Glenn about the father he brushed over the topic and moved on quickly. Glenn also introduced me to an African American woman with pretty short hair and welcoming demeanor. He pointed out a man by a tent, whom they called Morales, who was apparently here with his family, a wife and two kids. There were a few other faces that Glenn pointed out, but it started to get hard remembering the names to those I didn't get to actually meet and briefly talk to.

"Oh, here's the lake, Tori!" Amy cheered from up ahead. Her and Andrea had walked ahead of Glenn and I once we started meeting people.

I stepped out of the forest line onto a rocky shore and stared in amazement at the area this group had decided to camp. There was a lake of clear, blue water nestled between the tall white, rocks of the quarry's walls.

"You can go behind those rocks over there and wash up. Glenn will run and grab you a towel and maybe something to eat too." Amy said and pointed toward a large boulder off to the left that blocked off a portion of the lake.

Glenn raised an eyebrow at her, "I will?"

"Why not? You gonna stick around hoping for a peep show?" Andrea questioned.

Glenn stiffened and I glanced over to see a blush cover his tan cheeks. He shook his head adamantly and turned to me, "What? No. I swear that isn't- I'm not-"

"I think she's joking, Glenn." I chuckled and tried to put the poor guy out of his misery.

He quickly gave me the boots, that I held in one arm, "I'm just gonna go get you that stuff."

Glenn rushed away, back towards camp, and the sister began to laugh. I chuckled again to myself, "Thanks for everything guys."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stick around and help you out? That shoulder wound is in a weird place." Andrea offered.

"No, it's fine. Really." I replied without hesitation. Even if I did need help, which I probably would considering I couldn't actually see the wound, I really wanted a moment to myself with no one hovering and asking questions.

Amy smiled, "Ok. I'll wait for Glenn to come back with the stuff then I'll bring it over."

"Thanks, Amy." I nodded and without waiting for more to be said, turned and headed over toward the large boulder. There was nobody, dead or alive, over by the boulder or in the water behind it, but I still took the time to look around with my hand around the knife hanging from my belt.

Once I was satisfied that things were safe, I tossed my book bag to the rocky shore, tore out the hair accessories that were embedded in my hair at this point, and then began to strip out of the bloody clothes I wore. The jeans I had on were salvageable if I didn't mind the blood splatters decorating them, but the shirt was beyond repair. There was no point in keeping the bloody gauze on my foot so I tore it off. The decision to leave my undergarments on was made in seconds and I wasted no time in wading into the cool water. A chill went up my spine at the temperature, but I didn't let that stop me from going neck deep and then ducking under.

For that brief moment underwater I didn't have to worry about a damn thing. I didn't have memory loss, I wasn't trapped in a nightmare of a world, and things made sense. I was just someone trying to detangle her messy hair. However, I couldn't stay under forever and soon enough I was gasping for air and just as troubled as I had been at the beginning of this impromptu bath. Amy came back a few minutes after I had come up for air and set down a towel and some food by my bag before leaving again.

I did the best I could scrubbing dirt and blood off my body. My shoulder and foot were constantly stinging under the water, but those spots needed the most cleaning. I took the time to rinse out and rub all my wounds, including the small one above my eyebrow. I got as clean as I was going to without any soap then forced myself out of the water.

Awkwardly, I limped over to the towel trying not to put too much pressure on my bad foot. The sharp rocks and pebbles were doing nothing good for me. Once I wrapped the towel around my body I sat down with a sigh. Amy had brought me an open can of green beans that I dug into. In everything that had happened, I hadn't even noticed how hungry I was.

After devouring the entire contents of the can, I tossed the can aside and opened the first aid kit, which was more well-stocked than my own. I readjusted the towel covering my body then began to dig through the front pockets in hopes that I'd find a mirror or something with a reflective front. In the very front pocket of my bag was a small compact mirror that I held in my hand curiously. One of the reasons I turned down help from the others was because I knew that if I had a mirror I'd be able to care for the wounds myself. What were the chances that I'd actually find a mirror in my bag? Was it a total coincidence or did some part of me, deep down, remember packing a small mirror in my bag?

A sigh tore through my body as I pushed the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. It took me only a minute or two to properly clean and place a butterfly bandage over the wound above my eye. Then I spent the next five minutes cleaning the wounds on my foot, applying medicine, and rewrapping it with fresh bandages. There was no way for me to prep for my shoulder wound mainly because I had no idea what it looked like still. I took a steadying breath then dropped the top portion of my towel so my arms didn't have to worry about keeping it tucked in.

It wasn't easy using the small mirror to see the wound on my back, but I somehow managed to get a good look at the wound by peeking over my shoulder to see the reflection. My teeth clenched in a grimace. The wound was not pretty to say the least. It was about three or four inches long, going downward toward my hip, and not very large width wise. The sides of the wound were jagged, like it had been a tear rather than a cut, and luckily it also didn't seem too deep.

"Shit." I breathed and reached over my shoulder with my opposite hand to touch the tender edges. A hiss of pain escaped my lips so I pulled back my hand and went to grab a gauze pad to place over it. My shoulder more than likely needed stitches, but there was no way I could stitch myself from this position. Not well, at least.

The gauze pad was in my hand and I was about to place it on the wound when something odd occurred to me. The wound looked old. Not too old, but it looked a lot older than a wound I got yesterday. How had I gotten it anyway? It had to be part of the car accident, but what exactly had torn my skin like this? I dropped the mirror as realization hit me like a truck. With my now free hand, I picked my dirty shirt off the ground and shook it in my hand until I was looking at the blood stained, shoulder area. There was no tear in the shirt. My shoulder was jacked to hell, but my shirt was hole free in the area. Did this mean I got the wound before the car accident? What had I been doing to get hurt like this? Had it been some other kind of accident or had I been attacked?

The blood drained from my face and my heart seized in my chest at the thought of being attacked. Sure, it was a terrifying thought in any day or age, but now it was so much worse. What if I had been attacked by one of those walkers? Rick mentioned that if someone got bit by one they'd get sick, die, and come back like them, but did scratches count too? What if this jagged tear came from the diseased, deadly nails from one of the dead?

I threw the shirt aside and picked the mirror up one more time to examine the wound again. I had no idea what I was looking for. Evidence that this wasn't an attack from a walker? There was no way I could see or prove otherwise. The only way I'd find out was if I got sick in a few days or not. I wasn't craving human flesh yet, and that was a good sign right? Quickly, I forced myself to take a steadying breath and continued on with covering the wound with the bandage. It took me longer to tape down the gauze here then it did fixing any other wound, but I think that could be equated to my now shaking hands.

The sound of voices drifted through the air, I didn't recognize any, but they came from the other side of the rock so I assumed they were probably from this group. There was only a small amount of gauze left in the first aid kit I was using so I transferred it to my own to use later. Then I put away the left over medical supplies, stuffed the mirror back into the bag, and pulled out all the clothes I had in my bag. There was something heavy at the bottom of my bag, but I could figure out what it was later. Right now I wanted to be less exposed.

There was only one new outfit in the bag, but I was more than happy with that. It consisted of a pair of comfortable jeans, socks, fresh underwear, a clean bra, and a white t-shirt. After glancing around to make sure the area was still clear, I quickly stripped off the wet, dirty undergarments and replaced them. It felt absolutely heavenly to wear the clean items and it only got better once I pulled on the jeans. As I unfolded the white t-shirt, I realized not only was it too big for me, but it was actually a man's shirt. I rotated it in my hands and found the initials 'DW' on the tag in permanent marker.

"Hey." A man called out and I jumped in surprise. I glanced around but there was still no one around that I could see. The voice spoke again from behind the large boulder, "You decent?"

"Um, hang on." I called back and pulled the shirt over my head carefully. "I'm good."

Seconds later, Shane stepped around the rock with his eyes on me. As he came closer, I sat down and began to pull the new socks over my feet followed by Amy's boots. Shane remained standing a few feet in front of me not saying a word. Cautiously, I lifted my gaze back up at him. Shane didn't look happy, he wore a look of skepticism and annoyance.

"Is there something wrong?"

Shane rubbed his jawline and looked away with a nod, "Good question. Is there?" His eyes landed back on me and now it was my turn to be skeptical. What exactly was he getting at? I pushed myself off the ground and picked up my book bag to wear over my shoulder. "You kind of came out of nowhere, didn't you?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "I wouldn't say nowhere. You make it sound like I appeared out of thin air." I walked away from him to pick up my dirty jeans and the knife that sat on the ground beside it.

"Listen, I'm taking care of this group and if I want things to work smoothly 'round here then I need to run a tight ship." Shane said firmly. "Now, I typically don't let strangers in lightly. Especially not without talking to them first. To get a feel for them."

I unlaced the belt from my dirty jeans and began to put it on. His skepticism made sense now. Shane was trying to keep the people here safe from any unsavory characters, and I couldn't blame him for that. People were crazy before the world ended, who knew what they were like now. I began to try to stick the knife through the belt loop again, but frowned when it felt strange under my now large shirt. Without hesitation, I stuck it into the side of my boot, "I can understand that."

"You snuck in during that ordeal with Daryl." Shane replied, "Rick seems to trust you plenty for some reason, but I'm not so naïve."

"I don't know if I'd call Rick naïve." I readjusted my bag strap. Shane looked like he didn't agree with my statement, but I didn't feel like an argument right now. "So what do you wanna know, Officer Shane?" Shane didn't reply and instead just stared at me for a moment. His gaze was puzzling, like he was trying to solve some sort of problem in his mind. I crossed my arms, "What?"

Shane shook his head, "You look familiar is all. You ever been to King's County?"

I recognized it as the town Rick was from and shook my head, "Not that I recall, but then again I don't exactly recall much." Shane shot me a quick glare and I sighed, "Sorry, but I honestly don't know. I think I was coming from Texas originally. Maybe I stopped there for gas or something?"

"Maybe…" Shane said slowly, but the look in his eye told me he hadn't given up on trying to figure this out quite yet. "I'm gonna drop this for now 'cause I got bigger fish to fry and admittedly, it'd be nice to have a doctor around." The urge to correct him rose up. Yes, all the signs pointed toward me graduating medical school. Yes, I had this medical knowledge buzzing around in the back of my mind, showing its face occasionally. That was all true, but there was some internal part of me that refused to identify in that way. It just didn't feel right. Shane continued speaking, "I'm warning you right now though." He took a step forward, his eyes leveled in a glare toward me. "You try anything, you threaten anyone here…"

He left his words hanging, the silence was a warning itself, but my full attention was on his body language. Shane was trying to be intimidating, trying to make sure I stayed in line, but it wasn't working on me. This guy was in full on 'cop' mode. I would bet money that the look on his face was the same one he gave criminals who stepped out of line, to people who threatened the safety of his town, but it didn't fill me with apprehension. Maybe it was because I wasn't worried about the threat? It wasn't like I planned to step out of line and hurt someone. However, the glare he was giving me seemed like the kind that could shake anyone to his or her core. Why wasn't that freaking me out? Why did I feel more like he was offering me a challenge?

"Got it, Shane." I nodded with a smile. Despite my conflicting thoughts, I did slightly admire the man for standing up. He was in full protector mode for every woman, man, and child in this camp. That was good of him. Brave, even. I admired this strength of his though I did question his sense of paranoia. I seriously doubted I looked that dangerous to him or anyone else. "I won't step a toe out of line."

Shane nodded and his glare lessened as his features softened slightly, "How are your injuries? You looked like hell an hour ago when you walked into camp."

Had I already been here for an hour? Most of that time must have been lost with me bathing. I offered him a smile, "They're non-fatal." I hoped. "I'm more worried about the mental injury than the physical."

"Right. Amnesia." Shane replied, but his face was turned away from me so I couldn't see his reaction. He bent over to pick up the first aid kit that I hadn't grabbed yet then motioned toward me with a small nod. The two of us began to make the trek back to camp. "Bet that's a bitch to deal with."

"Well, it's no picnic."

Shane glanced over at me, "Glenn said you were bleeding buckets from your shoulder. It don't need stitches?"

"I wouldn't say buckets." I chuckled. Although, I had lost enough blood from the wound to black out yesterday. Though I was positive that exhaustion played a huge role in that too. "And nope. Wasn't too bad, I cleaned it up and bandaged it over."

Shane nodded and I thanked the heavens that the lie sounded so true coming off my lips. That ugly, gaping tear on my back 100% needed stitches. Someone with no medical knowledge whatsoever would be able to see that. The last thing I wanted though was for someone else to see the wound. What if they saw it and assumed it was from a walker? It wasn't like I had a legitimate story against that theory. The whole scenario would cause a panic and that's the last thing I wanted to deal with. This camp had enough drama on it's own without me adding to it.

I couldn't help but wonder if I was being selfish though. What if this was a walker scratch? What if it did make me sick and come back as one of them? No one else in camp would know until I crawled out of my tent and devoured someone.

"You in pain?"

"Hmm?"

"You got this sick look on your face all of a sudden." Shane commented. The light grew brighter up ahead because of the open clearing. It was the area I had been in earlier. "Did you take any medicine?"

I shook my head, "No. I forgot to." The pain wasn't unbearable right now, and my headache was barely even noticeable anymore.

Without missing a step, Shane popped the kit open and dug through to find a white bottle. He shut the box and tossed the bottle in my direction. I reached out and barely caught it in time, "Take a couple. The last thing anyone needs is pain distracting them when they're out in the open."

"I thought I was supposed to be the doctor." I joked as the two of us reached the clearing. Shane offered me a small, amused smile before turning on his heel and walking away.

The clearing had a completely different feel this time around. There were people scattered around chatting away while working on various chores. Amy and Andrea were off to the side hanging wet clothes across a wire line. Daryl was sitting by the fire fixing something on his crossbow. Even Lori and Carl where in the clearing and it looked like she had her son working on some sort of math worksheet. Poor kid. The world ended and he's still stuck with multiplication problems.

"Would you like me to take that?"

I glanced over to see the woman I had met earlier, Carol, smiling happily at me. She must have noticed my confusion because she motioned toward the dirty clothes I had balled up and was now holding to my chest.

"Oh, you don't have to." I shook my head quickly.

"It's no bother. I'll put it with the other dirty clothes." Carol reached forward and I handed the wad of clothing to her. She offered me one last smile before walking over to where there were three baskets on the ground. She set the dirty clothes in one before moving to a board where she was ironing a shirt. A shirt that looked suspiciously like Rick's police uniform.

I bit my lip awkwardly before going over to sit by the fire. It felt strange to be here, like I didn't honestly belong. I had no connections here, not really, and there was already some sort of routine in place that I wasn't aware of. I was a stranger and an outsider right now.

I opened the bottle in my hand and dry swallowed two pills before sticking the bottle in my bag. I'd return it to Dale later. My eyes darted over to Daryl, who sat only two seats away, working on his crossbow without even looking up in my general direction. I tore my gaze away from him to try and find something to do. Glenn and Dale were not around right now so I couldn't open a conversation with them. Amy and Andrea weren't far away, but they were busy and it looked like they were having a private conversation themselves. Rick was over by the jeep parked by the RV looking at its engine, but Shane stood next to him harshly whispering. They were arguing.

I turned back to Daryl and sighed, "Hey." His shoulders stiffened slightly, but he didn't reply. "Thanks for bringing me here. I appreciate it." Daryl let out a grunt in response. It was quiet between us for another minute before I spoke again, "I'm sorry about your brother."

Daryl's eyes snapped up to meet mine and the same hurt I saw earlier was there again, but it was harder now. He shook his head, "Don't need your pity."

"It's not pity." I replied with ease. "I really am sorry."

Daryl didn't move. He just held his gaze on me, contemplating. It reminded me of what Shane had been doing to me, minutes prior, but there was a huge difference between the two. Shane had been looking for danger. He had been sizing me up. Daryl's gaze didn't look skeptical though. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Oh, come on." Shane barked. Daryl continued to hold my gaze, but I was too curious to continue this staring contest. I glanced over to see Rick walking toward Carol while Shane remained fuming by the jeep. He said something, it sounded a lot like 'thank you', then took the shirt she had been ironing and pulled it on. Rick began to slowly button the shirt up while walking toward the RV. Shane followed him as he passed, "I don't know that, Rick. I don't know that, man, so could you just- could you just throw me a bone here?" Rick turned to face his friend. He didn't look annoyed or discouraged. He wore the look of a man who had made a decision. Rick looked determined. I couldn't see Shane's face anymore, he was now facing Rick, but his voice sounded annoyed as hell. "Why would you go out and risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey!" Daryl barked and shot up from his seat. "Choose your words more carefully."

Shane turned to Daryl briefly with a bitter sneer, "No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant." He turned back around to Rick, "Merle Dixon." The name was spat from his mouth in distaste. "The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

Rick shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unaffected by Shane's brash words and attitude, "What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst –me." A slow smile crept along my face as my doubts were dashed. Rick was a good man. "He'd die of thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

I barely knew Rick Grimes, but his words made me beam with pride. Shane turned so he faced his left. Half his face could be seen now and I watched as he clenched his jaw in frustration. There was no way he could argue against Rick's point without sounding like a douchebag himself.

"So that's your big plan?" The same female voice surprised me again. I had forgotten Lori was even there until she stood up from beside her son with crossed arms to speak. She scoffed, "You and Daryl go wandering the streets of Atlanta?"

Rick slowly turned around to look behind him and it was only then that I noticed Glenn had finally entered the clearing. He was standing a few feet back leaning against the red car that had been taken apart. I didn't know how Rick was looking at Glenn, but the easy-going man frowned in response and sighed, "Oh, come on."

"You know the way." Rick replied and it suddenly made sense. Rick wanted Glenn to be his tour guide through the city of the dead. "You've been there before, in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Glenn looked nervous as he pulled his baseball cap off his head and ran a hand though his black hair. "It's not fair of me to ask—I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know Lori would too."

"That's just great." Shane scoffed, "Now you're gonna risk three men."

I wanted to go.

The idea hit me like a truck, and I couldn't shake the thoughts from my head. I wanted to go to Atlanta with this small rescue group. There could be clues somewhere in that city that led to who I am or who my family was. I knew the idea of walking into Atlanta and finding anything was a long shot, but I refused to not even try. Plus, there was another part of me that wanted to leave. There was an urge in the back of my mind that was pushing for me to grab the nearest car and drive far, far away. This group seemed great, the people seemed really nice and welcoming for the most part, but did I have the time to settle here and make roots with people I didn't know? Not to mention, Rick had already found his family. He was my only ally in the 'find our families' plan and he had already succeeded. Rick had a new mission now and that'd be to survive, to keep his family safe. I wasn't sure if there was room for my plan of searching next to his plan of surviving.

"Four." While you had contemplated the pros and cons of volunteering, T-Dog had walked into the clearing with a determined nod.

Daryl scoffed and I glanced at him in time to see him roll his eyes in contempt, "My day just gets better an' better, don't it?"

"You see anyone else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?"

"Why you?" Daryl questioned.

T-Dog shook his head, "You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

"So that's four." Dale spoke up from the RV's doorway. I hadn't noticed him either until now. Damn. Was I always this oblivious or was it just the distraction of what was happening? I prayed for the latter.

Slowly, I stood up and awkwardly raised my hand with a sheepish grin to go along with it. Rick noticed me before I said a word and shot me a confused look. I shrugged, "Five?"

Everyone in the clearing was looking at me again, but this time I didn't feel so uncomfortable under their gazes. Dale and Glenn both had looks of surprise, but when I glanced over at Shane he seemed weary of me. Did he think I was already planning my mode of attack? I wanted to glance over at Daryl, to see his reaction, but Rick held my stare. He shook his head, "No. You're still injured. You need to stay here and rest."

"I'm fine." I argued, "I don't need my shoulder to run from walkers, my foot actually isn't all that bad…" He didn't seem convinced of my words. I motioned toward Daryl beside me, "I can defend myself too! Ask, Daryl. I can, kind of, sort of, throw knives. Ish."

I was close enough to hear Daryl snort, but I couldn't tell if it was in annoyance or amusement. Rick shook his head again, "It's too dangerous." He turned back to face Shane, "There's four of us."

This wasn't working in my favor. I hadn't been expecting Rick to play the role of protector of my own well-being. I panicked briefly before glancing over at Daryl. A new tactic formed in my mind. I smirked and spoke up, "Daryl wants me to go."

"The hell would I want that?" Daryl scoffed loudly. He seemed insulted that I'd even say he considered the idea. "I got 'nough of you in the woods."

"Because I'm a doctor." I said firmly with as much confidence as I could muster. Sure, I didn't really identify with the job title or the responsibilities that came with it, but damn was I not above using it in my own advantage.

"You're a doctor?" Daryl questioned. He apparently hadn't heard my strange backstory.

"Your brother has been up there since yesterday afternoon. It's hot as hell, he's got no shade, no water… He has to be super dehydrated. Not to mention, the handcuff around his wrist. I bet he's been pulling and yanking on it, tearing up the skin around it. He probably needs stitches if it's bad enough." I crossed my arms in a nonchalant manner, "I mean, sure you guys could probably take care of that yourself, but wouldn't you want a trained medical professional there if you could have one?"

Daryl seemed to consider this. I glanced over at Rick to see he was shooting a me a light glare. Daryl spoke up, catching my attention, "The Doc's coming with. What'd you say your name was? Victoria?"

"Call me Tori." I replied with a smirk.

Rick sighed in irritation, "Fine. Five."

"It's not just five, Rick." Shane argued, "Don't you get it? You're putting every single one of us at risk. Come on, you saw that walker! It was here, it was in camp! We need every able body here. We need them to protect camp!"

The irritation was gone as Rick's lips twitched up slightly in a small smirk. Much like I had used my plan to get my way, something told me Rick had a plan B too. He nodded, "Seems to me like what you really need is more guns."

My eyes widened in surprise as I thought back to that large bag of guns. Had he lost it in the city? Glenn chuckled from the side, his hands hanging from his back pockets, "Right. The guns."

"Wait, what guns?" Shane questioned with renewed interest.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick replied, "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left." He shrugged his shoulders, "I dropped the bag in Atlanta when Victoria and I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."

The gears were turning in Shane's head, even I could see that, "Ammo?"

"700 rounds. Assorted."

Shane took a step back, his hands on his hips, as he actually began to finally consider the plan. It was a lot of guns, no doubt. Even I hadn't thought there were that many in the bag he carried. It must have been heavy as hell.

Lori's voice cut through the air, "You went through hell to find us. You even risked your life for a girl you found on the street." I frowned at her words and tried not to react. It hadn't been that big of risk, first of all, and secondly, why was she so pissed that he had saved me? The more I learned about Rick, the more I found out that he was one of those guys. He was one of those good to their core human beings that went out of their way to help others. Shouldn't she be used to that? Shouldn't at least some part of her commend her husband's bravery rather than argue with him in front of an audience? "You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"

"Dad." Carl spoke up softly. This entire conversation probably should've happened without the little boy around. He didn't need to hear this. "I don't want you to go."

Rick sucked in a sharp breath, and I knew by the look on his face that the only person who'd be able to convince him to stay was that little boy. Rick looked torn and conflicted as he stared at his son.

"To hell with the guns!" Lori cried, "Shane is right. Merle Dixon", Much like Shane, she emphasized his name with as much distaste as she could, "He's not worth one of your lives, even with the guns thrown in."

Rick began to cross the space to meet his wife, but I decided to look over at Daryl instead. His jaw was clenched and he stared ahead at a spot on the RV. His mind was obviously somewhere else right now. I reached over and gave his forearm a slight squeeze before pulling away again. Daryl looked shocked at the contact as his head snapped down to look over at me, but I didn't react to his questioning glare. I was sorry his brother was out, trapped, in Atlanta, but I was more sorry that he had to stand here and hear everyone belittle this Merle guy with insults like this. Even if Merle was the jackass everyone seemed to claim he was, he was still a brother to Daryl Dixon.

"Tell me." Lori pleaded and I tore my eyes away from Daryl, back to the scene at hand. I could still feel his eyes on me though. "Make me understand."

Rick stood in front of her, "I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Lori grew angrier for a second, but Rick didn't pause long enough for her to speak, "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them I made it back to you and Carl at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta." He shook his head, "They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."

"What's stopping you?" Lori spat.

"The walkie-talkie. It's in the bag I dropped." Rick pressed his lips together, "He's got the other one. The plan was to connect when they got closer."

"These our walkies?" Shane questioned while trailing his hand down the stubble on his chin in thought.

Rick nodded, "Yeah, they are."

"So use the CB." Andrea spoke up from the side. She motioned toward a black, radio box off to the side. Her hair had fallen free from the bun and now hung around the base of her neck, "What's wrong with that?"

Shane rolled his shoulders, "The CB's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the 70's, don't match any other bandwidth –not even the scanners in our cars."

I looked back over at Rick and Lori to see they hadn't broken eye contact yet. Rick sighed, "I need that bag."

Lori didn't respond with words. There was disagreement still written all over her face, but she shrugged her shoulders and took a step away. Rick sighed again, but knelt down in front of Carl. The two had a quiet conversation; one where I couldn't catch what they said and I didn't want to intrude anyways. It ended with Rick running a hand through Carl's hair lovingly.

This had been the universal signal that the argument was over and people began to disperse and go back to what they had been doing before. It was decided, I was going on the rescue mission, but right now I had no idea what I should be doing. Rick was over by the front of the RV talking to Dale and a tall man, which Glenn had introduced as Jim, about something. The way he kept motioning toward the red toolbox on the ground made me think it had to do with getting a tool to cut through the chain and padlock keeping the walkers away from Merle.

"You can leave your stuff here." Amy bounced up to stand beside me, "I'll put it in my tent so no one grabs it."

Andrea walked up behind her sister and I offered them both a smile, "Thanks, but I kinda wanna keep it with me."

Amy nodded and accepted my words without a doubt, but Andrea gave me a curious look. If all went according to plan then I wouldn't exactly be coming back. Up ahead, Glenn was waving me toward him. I said a quick good-bye to both sisters before jogging over to where Glenn was. With the bandage and thick sock, my foot only ached a little at the quick movement. That was a good sign. Rick was probably right when he said I needed rest, but I wasn't about to admit that now.

"I'm gonna back the moving truck in so we can take that." Glenn explained and shook the keys in his hands.

"Alright." I nodded and understood that he was asking if I wanted to come with him to do so without actually saying anything. This was much better than standing around clueless, plus Glenn seemed like a cool guy. He was easy to talk to. "So hey, how'd you and Rick meet? I mean, I know you saved him but…"

Glenn nodded as we walked out of the clearing. Parked to the side under a group of branches was a medium sized moving truck, "I was up on the roof keeping a look out when I spotted him." He unlocked the doors and opened the passenger side, I gave him a smile and jumped in before he shut it. When Glenn came to the other side and jumped in he continued to speak, "I'm kind of the supply run guy around here. I go into the city all the time for stuff, almost always alone. It worked well, but yesterday we decided to take a big group down."

"Why?"

He shrugged and began to move the truck, "Something about being able to carry more supplies? I don't know, I voted against it." Glenn paused, "Anyways, things went to shit when some dumbass stirred up the walkers on the street and started shooting off rounds."

I couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm guessing that dumbass was Rick?"

"Hey, you were there too from what I hear." Glenn joked.

I nodded and laughed again, "I'll take that title. I deserve it."

Glenn chuckled, "Back to where I started, when I was on the roof I spotted him running from the geeks. He slid under this giant tank and I thought he was a goner, but then I never heard his screams." I tried not to picture Rick being eaten alive under a military tank. "I got through to him on the radio and talked him out to safety."

Once the truck was where Glenn wanted it to be he put it into park. The back door slid up and Daryl jumped into the back with his crossbow slung over his shoulder. Behind him, Rick and Shane were talking over a large bag with the words 'Sheriff Deputy' across the side. They didn't look like they were arguing this time.

"Come on!" Daryl shouted and marched to the front where we were sitting. He reached his leg through the small window making Glenn and I lean back to avoid his foot. He stomped on the car horn with ease, "Let's go!"

"So", I tried to get back to the conversation we were having, "You, Rick, and whoever else was there just walked out of Atlanta?"

"Kind of?" Glenn grimaced, "Rick and I walked through the street covered in geek guts and we stole this van."

My eyes were wide and my surprise kept me from looking over when the passenger side door opened, "Did you just say guts?"

"Yeah, he did." Rick chuckled from behind me. I turned in my seat to see Rick with a smile, "It was about as fun as it sounds."

I blinked and glanced over my shoulder to see T-Dog hop into the back and sit down, "Oh, I should get back there, huh?" Rick probably needed to sit up front with Glenn. Rather than moving back so I could hop out, he stepped up onto the truck's foot ledge and motioned with his hand for me to scoot in.

"Nah, it's fine. Scoot over."

With my bag kept between my feet, I slid across the seat so I was in between Glenn and Rick. It was a small space, my shoulders were pressed lightly against theirs, but it wasn't an uncomfortable fit. The sliding door shut with a slam from behind me and Glenn threw the truck in to drive.

We were only five minutes into the drive when Rick turned his head toward me and asked with a low voice, "So what's the real reason you're coming?"

Rick was quiet enough that T-Dog and Daryl probably couldn't hear unless they were really trying, but Glenn could hear every word crystal clear. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him glance at me as well.

"Are you questioning my charitable actions of helping nurse a stranger back to health?" I retaliated. Rick didn't lower his gaze and his left eyebrow rose questioningly. I heaved a sigh, "Well, I mostly want to see if maybe I can find any clue of who I am there. It's a long shot, I know that, but I could never forgive myself if I didn't even try. It's stupid, but who knows? Maybe someone left me a sign. Maybe I'll take a good look around and remember something."

Rick nodded, "I get it. I don't think it's stupid either, but mostly? What else is there for you to accomplish?"

I stared at him for a moment. There was curiosity in his light blue eyes and an honest to goodness desire to know what I had planned. Out of all the people who could've run across me lying unconscious in the road, I felt honored that it had been Rick Grimes. Out of respect though, I had to go. His plan of settle and survive didn't mesh with my plan to explore and find answers. I couldn't risk him or his newly found family with my desires. I glanced over my shoulder and caught Glenn's gaze. His eyes widened briefly before shooting back to the road in embarrassment.

"It's fine, Glenn." I breathed and I hoped that was enough for him to know I didn't mind him listening. It's not like we were trying to be secret. Glenn's shoulders relaxed and I looked back to Rick whose expression hadn't changed. I sighed, "I'm planning to leave, Rick." Rick's eyes widened in shock and I heard Glenn let out a startled 'what?'. "I came to find a car that I can use to drive out with."

Rick shook his head, "What? Why? Why would you leave?"

"You found your family." I replied firmly, but I put on a smile to lessen the blow, "Now, I have to find mine. Whoever they might be." I paused, "I can't do that here as a part of this group. I can't find out anything about myself here."

Glancing over at Glenn, I could see in his eyes that he didn't agree. He kept his gaze on the road and chose not to argue with me on this. It made sense. I liked the guy, but we barely knew each other. It wasn't like he had any say in what I did or didn't do. Looking back over to Rick, I could see that he did not feel the same way.

"Your memories could come back to you. They did with the medical stuff and Marie." Rick said, "It's safer here with a group. You can heal, let your memories come back, and then from there we'll know where to go to find your loved ones." Rick was still using 'we' instead of 'you' and that warmed my heart more than I thought it would. It also confused me a bit. Why did he care so much? Rick pressed his lips together briefly, "Please stay. Don't leave. It's a bad idea."

"Why do you care so much?" I blurted in curiosity. The words could've been taken in annoyance so I shook my head to clarify, "I'm not asking to sound rude or ungrateful, I just…I'm genuinely curious."

Rick leaned back against his seat with his eyes ahead on the road. He slowly shrugged before glancing back with a small smile, "I made you a promise about this. Not directly, but…" He shook his head, "When I took you under my wing on that side road, that made you my responsibility. I told you to trust me, and that I'd help you. I'm just trying to follow through. You don't have to do any of this alone, Victoria."

"Thanks." I mumbled as I let his words echo through my mind.

It was quiet for a beat before Glenn cleared his throat, "I've, uh, known you less time than Rick, but I totally agree." I chuckled and looked at him. He offered me a comforting smile, "Safety in numbers?"

"Yeah, unless you're going on a supply run to Atlanta, right?" I joked and Glenn chuckled. His slight laugh eased the tension floating in the air. To be honest, I wasn't entirely convinced. Rick said my memories would probably come back, but there was this nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me that wasn't true. Amnesia typically came from head injuries, concussions specifically. The fact that my head wasn't still throbbing, I had no dizziness, no lack of coordination, no confusion, or ringing of the ears led me to believe that maybe I didn't have a concussion. If that were the case, then why did I have such intense memory loss?

Regardless of why, what I knew without a doubt was that I didn't want to be alone. I was scared to be alone. Maybe going off on my own would increase my chances of finding answers, but the concept of leaving and having no one to watch my back was terrifying.

A little less than ten minutes later, Glenn was parking the truck next to a line of railroad tracks in a shaded area under a couple overpasses. There was a metal fence far to the left and the edge of the city sat on the right.

"I…I was here." I said slowly.

"You were?" Rick questioned. Daryl and T-Dog were getting out of the back of the truck, as the three of us exited the front. I began to climb out of Rick's side, taking his offered hand as I hopped to the ground with more weight on my left rather than my right foot.

"That's the fence I climbed to escape." I pointed over to a portion of the fence. The spot I had climbed over had a brick ledge that I used as leverage to push myself over quickly. "I almost didn't even remember, that entire moment just passed like a blur."

Glenn nodded and motioned past the fence to the forest line a few yards beyond it, "If you cut through that area and hiked up and to the right for a couple miles, you'll find camp. It's a shorter distance than driving, but it takes way longer since you're on foot."

"We goin' or are we just gonna stand 'round and talk all damn day?"

"Sorry, Daryl's right." I apologized, "We should start, huh?"

Daryl scoffed, "He better be ok. It's my only word on the matter."

T-Dog waved off his words with his left hand while holding a large pair of bolt cutters in his right, "I told you the geeks can't get at him. Only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." He let out an amused scoff, "If we forget Dale's tools this time too though, he's gonna be what we need to worry about."

The group slowly began to move past the tracks and toward the city. Rick glanced back at Glenn, "Merle first or guns?"

"Merle!" Daryl yelled, "We ain't even havin' this conversation!"

"We are." Rick replied firmly with a hard look in his direction before looking back to Glenn, "You know the geography, it's your call."

The group reached an abandoned, fenced off portion of road, but the fence had a hole near the bottom that was folded down. Rick lifted the fence and motioned for me to crouch down and walk though. I quickly went under with Glenn on my heels. He nodded once, "Merle's closest. Getting the guns first would mean doubling back. Merle first."

Glenn's answer pleased everyone so the five of us quickly and quietly began to walk down the city's road while keeping an eye out for any lurking monsters. Admittedly, my own attention drifted toward looking for anything out of the ordinary. I kept telling myself that I wasn't going to find anything. Even if someone I knew, someone I loved, had been in Atlanta, the city was huge and the chances of me even being in the right area were slim. Still, I held out for hope and my eyes traced the buildings looking for some kind of sign.

Glenn was in the lead, his shoulders were tense with concentration as he glanced from left to right occasionally. Only a few steps behind him was Rick who had made it very clear that he wanted me only a step away from him at all times. Even T-Dog and Daryl had taken up the flank in a way that had one of them on either side of me. It was as if they had made a weird triangle around me. It was kind of flattering, but also completely unnecessary. I bit back a complaint or wise-ass comment on treating me like I was made of glass. In the end it really didn't even matter. If trouble did decided to show its ugly, rotting face, I sure as hell wasn't going to let any of these guys risk their life for me. It wasn't right. They didn't owe me that. In fact, I owed half of them.

Using the clear back alleys, Glenn led us into a tall building. The floor we entered on looked like a department store. Up ahead were large, glass counters where jewelry used to be sold and near the back, around us, were clothing racks. I walked past an eerie mannequin that had the bottom half of its faceless broken off and tried not to grimace. Mannequins were honestly the least of my worries right now.

As if on mental cue, a low moan echoed through the air making my skin crawl. Rick held his hand out in front of me, stopping me in my tracks, then motioned forward with his other hand. He started walking again and the rest of us followed him in a line. Rick seemed to know where he was going in here, but that wasn't surprising since this was apparently the building they had been occupying while I fled through the woods yesterday.

Rick was leading all of us toward the wall on the far right, but the sound of shuffling steps growing louder made me slow to a stop. To the left of me, there was movement among the clothing racks. The top half of a human head could barely be seen over one of the taller dress racks. It slowly stumbled out and around the rack. At first it seemed like nothing was wrong. The woman, wearing jeans and a dirty yellow shirt, had long black hair that fell past her shoulders. It was greasy and could use a good wash, but who didn't need a good wash these days? She had a pretty profile. Her nose was straight, her cheekbones were high, and maybe she was a bit pale, but her skin was clear.

Her head rolled to the side as she began to turn and everything changed. The right side of her face was a bloody mess. Her eye and most of the muscle under it had been torn from her face leaving a jagged hole where both once were. The skin around her ear and temple was peeled back and folded down like a disfigured flap. All the tissue on her right cheek was gone and I could see her bare teeth and tongue, even with her mouth still closed. The woman was monstrous. She wasn't a woman. Not anymore.

"Damn, you are one ugly skank." Daryl spoke up from right behind my shoulder. The walker let out a hiss and it's stumbling steps increased in my direction. Before it could get even a yard closer though, an arrow dug into its remaining eye and it fell back motionless. Daryl walked by me, probably to retrieve his arrow, but I looked away from the scene.

"Hey." I glanced up from the floor to catch Rick's gaze. He stood right in front of me, "You alright?" Quickly, I nodded and gave him a quick smile. I was fine. I needed to be fine. This was life now. Either I got used to it or I'd get eaten alive. Literally. He returned the small smile, "Stay close. I mean it."

The five of us continued on, and this time I really did stay right by Rick's side. It took no time at all to reach the stairs, and only a couple minutes to climb all the way to the roof. We came to the door T-Dog had chained up and he immediately got to work in cutting the chains. The moment the chains were loose, Daryl rushed forward and kicked the door open, "Merle!? Merle!"

I rushed out after him with my bag swung around so I could dig through it. Even though I had used Daryl and his brother as an excuse to get here, I wholeheartedly planned to still help out. I owed Daryl that much at least. My eyes darted down for a second to look for the first aid kit and it was in that moment that Daryl let out the most God-awful cry of disbelief.

"No, no. No!"

My eyes shot up to see Daryl fall to his knees yelling in anguish. In front of him was a pipe with a single, bloody handcuff hanging from it. Beneath that was a white hand lying in a large pile of dark blood. My hand unconsciously shot up to cover my mouth in disbelief. Daryl was still yelling and his pained voice was like a punch to the gut. Hearing that much agony come from one person was painful to watch. I glanced over to the other men only to find they were in the same mindset as me. Rick wore a look of absolute regret as the guilty looking T-Dog lowered his head. Even Glenn looked discouraged and shocked.

In the end, T-Dog had been right every time he said it. Not a single damn geek could get to Merle, but that chain and padlock didn't stop Merle from getting to himself.

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It was a ghost town. Main Street was a broken, war zone. Buildings were gutted out with scars of gunshots and fire. Cars were overturned, some left smashed into various landmarks, and some just left abandoned to the side by their previous owners. Trash littered the street alongside glass, blood, and the occasional dead body.

The dead bodies littering the ground barely even registered on his radar though. As much as the loss of life bothered him, there was something else he needed to focus his concern on. The truth was, this really wasn't a ghost town. He had spent a good portion of his life dealing and ridding the world of all sorts of ghosts. Ghosts ranked very, very low on the list of things that worried him. This quiet town was filled with something much worse than a simple ghost. This town was infested with the dead that didn't really die.

"You see any sign of her yet?"

At the sound of his younger brother's voice, Dean Winchester slowly turned around from the large window he was looking out of. Sam wasn't actually looking at him. His brother was too busy filling a bag with supplies they had gathered from the kitchen of this abandoned police station.

"No. I don't." Dean answered bluntly. He was worried. He was beyond worried and that made him frustrated as hell. "Sam-"

"Dean." Sam interrupted him and Dean narrowed his eyes at him in response. "She's fine."

Dean let out a scoff, "I'm glad you're so sure. She was supposed to meet us here. We picked this random town as our fallback spot, Sammy. Where the hell is she?"

"She's been through worse than this, she's dealt with monsters way more dangerous than anything lurking out there." Sam said in a logical, reassuring manner.

"All it takes is one mistake. You know that." Dean argued. He shook his head and bit back the guilt that tried to rear its ugly head again, "We shouldn't have let her go to Texas alone."

Sam sighed, "It was her friend's funeral. She wanted to be alone."

"But we should've known better." Dean walked away from the window entirely and over to a bulletin board hammered into the wall. An assortment of papers covered the board of all varieties, but Dean's gaze was focused on the 'Wanted' posters that decorated the top right corner. A familiar face stared out at him with a blank look on her features. This was not his favorite mug shot. Dean liked the one where she had her hair down and a cheeky smirk on her face. This one looked too serious, too defeated. This wasn't a good picture of the woman he knew.

"This is our fault isn't it?"

Dean whipped around to see his tall brother leaning against the edge of a desk, staring out the front window. He had seen Sam broken before, but the look on his brother's face now was painful to see. There was so much guilt there, so much regret, and as much as Dean wanted to take all those thoughts away from his brother, he knew someone had to take that blame.

"Hell, no." Dean replied firmly. "You know it wasn't. We tried everything we could to stop this."

"Apparently that wasn't enough." Sam sighed, "The world is…dead. Even if we do figure out a way to reverse…whatever this is, it doesn't change the fact that over half the world's population is gone."

Dean shook his head, "It's not our fault. We tried to get that tablet back." There was a pause before he walked over and grabbed the bag of food, "We should go. Like you just said, the world's not gonna magically go back to how things were no matter what we do so she is our number one priority."

Sam nodded in agreement, "Yeah, alright. We know what road she'd be driving on. As long as she didn't change her course, she'd have passed through Atlanta on the way here."

"Then we go to Atlanta." Dean smirked. He hoped the uplifting tone in his voice would convince Sam that everything he said was true. Sam was too smart, he knew Dean too well, to really go for that anymore, but Dean could still pretend. "It's too bad the gun cage was all cleared out."

Sam chuckled, "We literally have an arsenal in our trunk."

"You can never have too many weapons, Sammy."

The two of them headed toward the back where the car was parked. Dean glanced over at the hanging wanted posters one more time before following his brother out. Dean had spent a good majority of his life lying about things. Sometimes it was for the greater good, and sometimes it wasn't. One thing he hadn't gotten good at though, was lying to himself. It didn't matter how many times he claimed that all of this wasn't his fault. Dean knew the truth. He should've done more. He should've been faster, stronger, smarter. Dean should've stopped the apocalypse, but this time he failed and the world suffered. This was, without a doubt in his mind, his own fault.