239 Days

by k2323

Eight Months. 239 Days. A lot can change in eight months. Boys become men. Wars are fought. Lives are changed. Set between Seasons 2 and 3. Currently in Part 2: The Rock.

3. Day 3

A/N: Okay! So, this chapter is super, super, super long, but it's full of action. For those of you who read Ninety Days Of Winter, this story's previous reincarnation, and liked the romance aspect of it, you should check out my new story, Best Summer Ever. As always, thanks for the love and support. Day 4, the conclusion of Part 1: The Hunting Grounds, is coming soon.

Day Three

Midnight.

It'd been about six hours since Daryl had been kidnapped. The group had been searching for hours, but any sign of him had disappeared without a trace. Everyone was starting to fear the worse. There was literally miles of ground to cover. They only had nine people – ten, counting the prisoner – eleven if you wanted to get technical and count Lori's unborn baby.

Rick decided that everyone should circle the search perimeter one more time and see if they could find Daryl. If they didn't find him in this search, they'd have to call it a night and wait till day break. So far, nobody had really been in luck. Rick was with Hershel, searching – and they were just about to call it a night. Rick was beginning to get a very nerve-wracking feeling in his gut.

It was dark, and Rick's eyes were peeled on the road ahead, which the headlights illuminated. Hershel's eyes wandered, trying to find any glimmer of life off the sides of the road. All Rick was thinking was how he could have been so stupid. He'd let his guard down. He'd failed the camp.

"See anything?" Rick asked hopefully.

"Not a thing," Hershel replied.

"Just a little bit further, then we'll turn around."

Hershel glanced over at Rick.

"Rick. You said that half an hour ago. It's getting dark, and you're getting tired. You're not going to be of any use to Daryl like this."

"I won't be of any use to Daryl if he's dead."

"Think about the others, Rick. We need to turn back now. We're getting further and further away from the camp."

"I'm not turning back yet," Rick replied stubbornly, "Just a little longer."

Hershel's eyes returned to the sides of the road.

A brief moment of silence.

"Rick," another voice echoed, through a bit of static, over one of the radios – it was Carol.

Rick picked the radio up, holding it up to his face.

"Go ahead."

"How far out are you?"

"About half an hour," Rick replied, "Any luck?"

"None," she replied.

"What's up?"

"Meagan's awake. She says she thinks she knows who took Daryl."

"What!?" Rick exclaimed. "Did she tell you who it was?"

"No," she replied, "She wants to talk to you."

"Alright," Rick replied, "We'll be back as soon as we can. Is everyone safe?"

"Everyone's here, safe and sound," Carol replied.

"Got it. Thanks, Carol."

/

"You're welcome, Rick," Carol enthusiastically replied, setting the radio down on the ground, next to the log she was sitting on. She looked around at Lori, Carl, and Glenn, who joined her on the logs, around the camp fire. Her eyes peered further out, at Meagan, tied up a bit behind Lori, away from the camp fire. Carol desperately wanted to go try to get the answers out of Meagan herself, right now. It was all she could do to contain herself. She was just so worried about Daryl.

"What do you think she wants?" Glenn asked, his eyes darting over towards Meagan as well.

"What do you mean, what she wants?" Lori asked.

"You don't honestly think she's going to talk for free, do you?" Glenn replied, "It's like in the movies. They always try to negotiate with you."

"Negotiate?" Lori scoffed, "How's this for a negotiation? She can talk, or she can pay the consequences."

"Remind me never to cross you," Glenn quietly said, earning a small smile from Carl.

His smile quickly faded.

"Do you think Daryl's going to be okay?" Carl asked.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, honey," Carol replied, talking not just to Carl, but to herself as well. "He's got to be."

"Daryl's one tough-ass guy," Glenn added, "I'd be more worried about the guys who kidnapped him."

"I didn't get a good look at them," Lori said. "How did they sneak in so well?"

"They looked like hunters," Glenn replied, "They were wearing camouflage jackets and carrying shot guns."

"Like those guys I saw earlier," Carl chimed in, "I wonder if they're from her camp."

"I'm not sure," Glenn replied, "When we ran into her, she was waiting on someone on the road, holding up her gun. She was expecting someone else, not us. Like, she was going to kill whoever she was waiting on."

"If you're right," Carol interjected, worriedly, "We may have thrown ourselves into the middle of a war."

/

Zip.

Maggie buttoned her jeans, picking her gun up off the ground next to her. Turning to face her sister, she could see that Beth had a slightly frightened look on her face. The two girls were in the middle of the woods right now, a short walk away from camp. Beth had been like this all night.

"Daryl's fine, Beth," Maggie told her, "I'm sure of it."

"You don't know that!" Beth exclaimed.

"Of course I do. This is Daryl we're talking about. He's fine. I know it."

The two girls started walking back towards camp.

"I hope you're right," Beth replied, "Oh, gosh. I feel so bad for Carol."

"What do you mean?" Maggie replied.

"You haven't noticed the way she looks at him?" Beth replied, "Oh come on, Maggie. It's so obvious."

Maggie managed a laugh. "What's so obvious? How does she look at Daryl?"

"Like she's in love."

"And what do you know about love?" Maggie countered, amused.

Beth felt her face grow warmer.

"Just, you know, from books and movies. I haven't actually been in love."

Not yet, anyway.

/

T-Dog was pretty upset. He'd just lost his truck – and Daryl – and hadn't been able to find them at all tonight. He wanted to be out there looking now, but Rick had called it a night. He was still waiting for Rick and Hershel to return. It was around midnight, and he was on guard, walking through the woods, an axe swinging around in his hand, a gun holstered onto his side.

He hadn't heard anything yet. He'd been on guard since he got back, about fifteen minutes ago. Just as he'd been starting to leave, that Meagan girl had finally spoken – she said she wanted to talk to Rick. This made T-Dog even more distracted. What the hell could she possibly know about any of this, and more importantly, how could they trust her?

T-Dog quickly came up on the tree-line. He was near the road right now, a few yards south east from where the Acura had been earlier on the road. He didn't see anything at the tree-line, and started to make the climb up the steep hill towards the road. He wanted to see if he could spot Rick and Hershel yet. He was getting anxious. Understandably so, seeing as how it was his truck that had been stolen.

Climbing onto the road above, his eyes peered into the darkness, in both directions. No signs of head lights. He started walking towards the ashes of the campfire that he and the boys had set up here earlier, just a bit up the road. How did I get myself in this mess. I should be in Atlanta, chillin' with my boys right now. This is so messed up.

Swoosh.

T-Dog dropped the axe and quickly pulled out his gun, pointing it towards the grass in the clearing across the road. He could swear that he'd just heard a noise. He didn't see anything. Maybe it was just the wind. He started walking towards the clearing, gun still raised. Swoosh. He saw a figure – it was a person – running.

"Hey, stop!" T-Dog yelled out.

No response - the figure kept running.

"I said stop!"

T-Dog sighed and started running after it, debating rather to shoot or not. It wasn't a Walker. He didn't think they could run this fast. No, it had to be a human. He just couldn't make out who the figure was in the darkness. Evidently, they were no immediate threat. He needed to get them to stop, to get answers. So, he kept running, and eventually, the clearing was met with another tree-line – more woods, on the opposite side of the road as camp.

/

"Maggie, are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Of course I'm sure. Camp's just a little further. I think."

"You think?"

"Hey, give me a break. It's dark. We'll be fine, Beth. I know what I'm doing."

"We're... lost, aren't we, Maggie?"

"We're not lost."

"What if we can't find our way back to camp?" Beth questioned, a bit more worried, "What if we never see Dad or Glenn or Carl again. What if we-"

"Maggie, I said we're fine. The road's that way," she replied, pointing north, "If we can't find camp, we'll just walk back to the road and find our way back."

"I-if you say so."

Silence.

"Hey, Maggie?" Beth asked, "About what you said. Do you and Glenn-"

"Shh," Maggie replied.

"Maggie, I'm trying to ask you a-"

"Be quiet, Beth. Listen."

Beth closed her mouth, trying to listen to what her sister was hearing. Was it a walker!? A wave of panic ran through her, but then, she heard it. It wasn't a walker. It was...

"Is that-?"

"I think so," Maggie replied, a slight grin spreading on her face. "It... It sounds like water."

/

"Maggie and Beth sure are taking their sweet time," Glenn noted. He was getting a little worried. It'd been ten minutes, and they still hadn't come back yet.

"Give the girls some space," Lori replied, "I'm sure they're fine. They'd radio if something was wrong."

"Yeah, I know, it's just -"

"Wait. Do you hear that?" Carol questioned.

The sound of an engine.

"Dad?" Carl questioned, standing and turning, his eyes darting through the trees towards the road in the distance.

"Let's hope so," Glenn replied, grabbing his gun and getting it ready. He needed to be safe. He didn't feel that safe – he was the only one armed here. Carl thought about grabbing a gun as well, but his mom would have a fit. Glenn was the only one well trained right now. Which meant, if this was the guys from earlier, Glenn would be the first one to die.

The group watched as headlights appeared in the distance, navigating through the trees towards the camp. It was a tight squeeze, which gave Glenn more than enough time to think about what could go wrong here. He was trying not to shake. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Luckily, the shape of the vehicle soon became clear, and even in the darkness, they realized it was Rick and Hershel, and Glenn lowered his weapon.

"Wow," Glenn quietly breathed a silent sigh of relief as the headlights and engine cut off. Rick and Hershel stepped out of the vehicle, meeting Carl, Carol, and Lori who rushed over towards them. Glenn found himself sitting back down to get a hold of himself. That could have been bad.

"Has she said anything" Rick asked Carol.

"Nothing yet," Carol replied, glaring over towards Meagan, "Not since earlier. She was determined to talk only to you."

"I can't say that I'm all that flattered," Rick replied, approaching Meagan quickly. He drew his gun, pointing it right at Meagan, earning slight gasps from those behind him. Everyone was still getting used to this new Rick. He was a lot different now. He had been ever since they'd lost Shane.

"Talk," Rick demanded.

Meagan could see that he didn't intend to play any games. Her facial expressions quickly became much more serious.

"The guys who have your man," she started, "They have a compound, about forty miles away, across the county. They're hunters, like me. They use walkers to track down supplies – food. Deer. Maybe people with supplies, if we're lucky."

"You and the man from the Acura," Rick replied, "You two are part of this group?"

"No," Meagan replied, "Their compound's crawling with fresh meat. Perfect for hunting. It's near the interstate, too. They've got all kinds of traps set up for people passing by. My camp and I moved over here from the county over about a month ago. We ran into trouble with these guys, saying we were hunting in their spot. We got in a firefight, lost two of our guys."

"What do these guys want with our people?" Rick demanded.

"I'm getting to that. Paul, my boyfriend. He was incredible. He led us here, to this part of the county. It's good for hunting, and they don't bother coming this far away from their compound. Everything's been pretty quiet for about a month... Their leader. Michael. He's pretty ruthless... If I were your friend, I'd be worried."

Her eyes locked with Rick's.

"You need me to take you to him. The sooner, the better. Maybe you can make some kind of deal."

"You still haven't explained what they want with my people."

"They don't," she replied angrily. "They don't want anything with your people. They want me. And they've got a hostage. But you can't trade me, it won't do you any good anyway. They won't honor their word. They'll take me, and then kill your friend. You need me. You need my help to rescue your friend."

Static.

"Hey, Rick," T-Dog's voice came over the radio.

"Go ahead," Rick replied, holding the radio to his mouth.

"I think I found something you may want to see."

/

Gagged.

Still gagged, unable to talk.

Daryl had been in this dark room for hours now. He didn't really know where he was. By his estimate, probably some thirty miles away from camp. Maybe more. Maybe less. He knew that the chair he was cuffed to was really uncomfortable. He knew that if he made a sound, the man sitting across from him, on the other side of this wooden table, would shoot him dead.

The man had a large beard, and quite the beer gut. He had dark, red hair, covered by a cap. He, like everyone else he'd seen here so far, was dressed in hunting clothes. He had large scratch marks on his face, and something told Daryl that a walker hadn't caused those. Daryl didn't want to know what had.

It was now, after what had to have been hours of silence, that the man sitting across from Daryl finally spoke, his words apologetic.

"You ain't got nothin' to worry about, y'know," he told Daryl, "We ain't after none of you or your group."

"Shut up," Daryl replied.

"It's just that lady you got tied up in your camp," he continued, "She ain't exactly our best of friends here, if y'know what I mean."

"I said shut up," Daryl said again.

"I was just tryin' to keep ya compan-"

Creek.

A door slowly opened, illuminating a bit of light into the room. Daryl could now see that he was in what looked like a small, empty bed-room. On the other side of the room from where he was sitting, an empty bed sat comfortably. It looked very nice compared to the uncomfortable chair Daryl had been in for the last few hours.

Standing at the door was another man, the one who had been in the back of the truck with Daryl earlier. This man had black hair, short, neatly cut into a buzz. He had a much more muscular body than the other man sitting across from Daryl. His face looked stern, eyes deciphering the situation. He was not as friendly as his friend.

"Alex. What are you doing?"

"Nothing, Keyers. I ain't doin' nothing."

"It sounded like you were talking to the prisoner," Keyers replied harshly.

"I was just sayin' how he ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout so long as his friends do what they're told."

"Oh, is that so?" Keyers replied, approaching the table slowly. Daryl's eyes took in this man's form, trying to figure out just who he was, what he was about.

...

Pow.

Keyer's fist met Alex's jaw before he knew what was coming to him. Alex stumbled forward before dropping onto his knees, onto the ground, hand covering his jaw, in pain. Before Alex could even recover, Keyers' foot gave Alex a good kick right in the gut. Alex fell over in pain before vomiting on the floor. Just when he thought he was okay, he felt Keyers' hands grab him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back up to Keyers' level.

He was shaking in fear as Keyers glared into his eyes.

"Unh."

Keyers practically slung Alex towards the wall, which Alex would have hit with full force had the bed not stopped his fall first. Alex's body fell over onto the bed, sideways, and he fell over it, his head hitting the floor as his body slid off. Intense pain throbbed throughout Alex's body. He could hear Keyers' footsteps. Keyers was walking towards him. No, not again.

Keyers glared down at Alex, once more looking at him in the eyes.

"No more talking," Keyers ordered.

"Y-y-yes sir," Alex managed.

Keyers turned and started walking towards the door. He stopped as he reached the door frame, turning to glare back at Daryl. Daryl's face was one of... Discomfort. Not fear, but discomfort for sure. Keyers smirked. Daryl was speechless, unsure what he should say or do as the door closed, and once more, darkness returned to the room.

/

Rick really had no idea what to say.

He had received T-Dog's transmission loud and clear. T-Dog had followed the figure he saw in the darkness through the woods. After awhile, T-Dog lost track of the figure, and started back when he stumbled into a trap. A hole, dug in the middle of the ground – deep – covered in camouflage. T-Dog had been there, on the ground, in pain, when he called Rick.

He waited for Rick. He was overall okay, lucky considering he'd fallen several feet. The hole was too deep to get himself out of. He'd need help. He just hoped whoever had dug this trap wouldn't find him first. Only, it was a few minutes after he'd fallen that he heard a noise. No. He heard a voice.

"Who's out there?" T-Dog called out.

"I could say the same to you!" the voice replied – a male voice.

"I asked first," T-Dog came back.

"Actually, I did," a third voice, also male, spoke. "You didn't hear me."

"I'm just... I'm a friend. I don't want any trouble. I saw something moving through the woods, and I followed it. Can you let me out of here?"

"Oh, believe me, friend. I would let you out if I could," the second voice came back.

"Well, why can't you?" T-Dog asked.

"We're stuck too," the third voice said, "In another hole."

"Why the hell would anyone dig two trap holes right next to each other?" T-Dog questioned.

"Long story," the second voice replied, "I'll tell you all about it later. Were you calling for help, earlier? Do you have some sort of phone?"

"Yeah, I've got a radio," T-Dog replied, "Help's on the way."

"Oh, good," the second voice replied, "Listen, we'll be happy to help you however we can. We've been trapped down here for days."

"Trapped?" T-Dog asked.

"Yeah, well," the third voice came back, "Like he said. It's a long story."

T-Dog was about to respond, when he heard a voice come on through the radio – not Rick's. In fact, it wasn't anyone he recognized.

"I want to speak to whoever's in charge."

"Hey, that voice," the second voice expressed, surprised.

"It sounds like... Samuel," the third voice confirmed.

/

"This is Rick Grimes. I'm in charge," Rick replied over the radio.

He had just been about to leave to go find T-Dog when the message came through. Maggie and Beth were just getting back to camp, and everyone was silent, following Rick's orders, trying to stay warm by the camp fire. Everyone listened with earnest to hear the mysterious voice on the walky-talky.

"Do you have the girl?"

"Who am I speaking to?" Rick replied.

"DO YOU HAVE THE GIRL!?" the voice shouted back.

"Yeah. Yeah, we've got the girl. Do you have my man?"

"The girl. The girl, and both of our people for yours."

"I said we have the girl. We don't have any of your people."

"STOP FUCKING WITH ME!" the voice shouted. "Our people. The girl will know where they are. If you want your friend back, you'll give them to us. Tomorrow, eleven AM. Town square."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Rick questioned. "What's to say you won't just try to kill us all on the spot?"

The voice was silent for a bit.

"Are you still there?" Rick asked.

"Hold on."

...

A different voice now.

"Hello, Rick."

"How do you know my name? Who the hell are you?" Rick replied.

"Listen up, Rick. My name's Michael. I'm going to give you back your man, if you honor your side of the agreement, but just so we're clear here. Every time you fuck up, and don't play by the rules, that's a strike for you. And every time you fuck up, I start cutting away on your friend. First, I'll rip his eyes out of his sockets and let you listen to his screams. Then, I'll start sawing off his toes. And I'll keep sawing until I have what I want. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Rick replied.

"Good. I'm glad we had this little chat, Rick. Get some sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow."

Rick put the radio down, letting the conversation he'd just had sink in. What kind of people were they dealing with? These guys weren't normal – they were psychotic. There was absolutely no way to guarantee anyone's safety. Rick knew about guys like this – guys like Michael. Guys like Shane. And guys like that wouldn't hesitate to kill everything in sight.

Glancing around at the frightened expressions of those around him, he nodded at them, a serious look on his face.

"Everyone get some sleep. In the morning, we go to war."

...

In the hours that had followed, T-Dog had been retrieved from the trap hole he had been in, as well as the two guys in the trap adjacent to his. The holes had been built by Meagan's camp, and the two guys in the other hole were Michael's men. Rick had gathered the information he needed from them before putting them back in their hole, and putting Meagan in the other.

Maggie and Beth had made it back to the camp safely. They didn't tell the others about the source of water – a spring of sorts – they'd found. Not yet. It wasn't necessarily that they were keeping it a secret, just more so that they'd forgotten about it what with everything else going on. War. What a terrifying word.

Rick was keeping guard over the prisoners, and back at the camp, T-Dog was on guard. Daylight was nearing, and when it came, it'd be time to take action. But what action would be taken? Rick wasn't sure what the best course of action was. But he knew that Michael and his men were dangerous – like Shane – and they were a threat to Daryl.

As if reading his thoughts, Meagan, who was still awake and curled up in her hole, spoke out to Rick above.

"You know, you can't trust Michael. The moment you hand us over, your man's dead, and he'll kill all of you as well."

"I'm not going to let that happen," Rick replied.

Meagan let out a laugh. "Yeah? You and your little rag-band group of survivors are going to go up against Michael and all of his camp? You don't know these bastards like I do. Most of them are ex-military – vets from Iraq, Afghanistan. This whole zombie apocalypse? This is the kind of things they are trained for. They're trained to survive."

"And what do you suggest?" Rick scoffed. "We fight them? You said it yourself. We're nothing compared to them."

"You should forget about your man. He's as good as dead anyway."

"That's not happening," Rick replied, "I refuse to leave anyone else behind. We've lost too many people already."

"In that case," Meagan replied, "Your only option is to fight. But you can't do it alone. You need help."

"Oh, yeah," Rick laughed, "Help from you? The moment I let you out of there, you'll make a run for it. Thanks, but I don't need your help."

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM!?" she yelled, "They killed my people! TWO of my people! I'm going to fight them with every last bit of energy I've got, rather you chose to join me or not."

"You think you can beat them?"

"I told ya, didn't I? I got my own camp waitin' on me."

"And your camp's prepared to… go to war against these guys?"

"I can have them ready in an hour, if you let me go now," Meagan replied.

Rick was silent, thinking… He didn't want to rely on this woman. But he knew… She could be their only shot.

~-~-~.

The sun was coming up, and everyone was up now, preparing for the day ahead. Rick would be back any minute now, and when he did, if what he'd said last night were true, they were in for one hell of a day. What had he meant last night? When he'd said that the group was going to war?

It wasn't long before they heard from Rick. The group was gathered around the camp fire, mostly quiet, when Rick radio'd in.

"This is Rick. Anyone up?"

"Go ahead, Rick," Hershel replied.

"I'm going to negotiate with Meagan's camp and see if they can help us rescue Daryl. If I'm not back in an hour, and you can't reach me over the radio, leave us and get out of this area as quickly as you can."

Hershel looked over at the rest of the group before standing, walking away from the fire, out of ear shot of everyone else.

"Rick, are you sure this is the wisest idea?"

"I'm not sure if wise is how I would describe this," Rick replied, "But I do know that we're going to need a hell of a lot more firepower if we want to pose a fight against these guys."

"Okay, Rick," Hershel replied, "I'll take care of things here."

"That's fine."

Hershel turned, walking back towards the group.

"T-Dog. You should try to get some sleep. Glenn. Maggie. You two are on patrol. Carol, Lori, try to make sure most of our supplies are loaded up so we can get out of here as quickly as possible. Carl, we need more firewood. Take Beth with you. I'm going to get some medical supplies ready… We might need them."

-~./~.~

Prisoner transport wasn't exactly a new concept to Rick Grimes. He'd done it enough times before to know the ins and outs – and while he didn't exactly have a police car, Paul's Acura was enough to suffice. Meagan was securely tied up in the back seat, hands behind her back and interlocked with the seat-belt. Rick, of course, was driving.

Meagan kept mostly silent, and Rick largely preferred it this way. With the morning sun rising above their head, they were on the country road that ran between Rick's camp and the prison holes. They were headed in the opposite direction as the town nearby, back the way Rick's group had come. They kept going till they were about five miles away from the camp.

"Turn here," Meagan directed, and Rick slowed down before taking a left onto the grass of a large pasture. As per her directions, Rick began to drive through the pasture, over bumpy terrain, up and down a few hills. After quite a bit of driving, they made it to another road on the other side of the pasture – a dirt road, which Rick pulled onto.

Driving down the dirt road for a good four miles, Rick came to a make-shift intersection of sorts.

"Turn left," Meagan instructed.

Rick did so, driving east now, further and further away from the camp. The dirt road had a few abandoned farm houses on it, a church, and an old meat house. After driving another good three miles, the dirt road finally ended, with nothing but forest ahead.

"We have to go the rest of the way on foot," Meagan explained.

"How far in?" Rick asked.

"A mile, maybe two."

"How do I know your people aren't waiting there to ambush me?"

"You don't."

-.~.-

Glenn and Maggie were used to keeping watch by now. It was a simple process. Walk around the perimeter of the camp. Listen for zombies. Watch. Keep your eyes opened. Don't get distracted. The last part was usually the hardest. Still, they did what they were told, and tried to do a good job.

"Where were you two last night?" Glenn asked as they came to the edge of the tree-line, near the road, before turning and walking beside the road.

"What do you mean?" Maggie asked innocently.

"When you and Beth went into the woods."

"Gosh, Glenn. Do you need to know every little thing I do?"

"I was just worried, Mags. You two were gone for awhile."

It was true. They had been gone longer than expected – they'd found that spring, after all. Maggie didn't quite want to tell Glenn about it yet. But the truth was, she wanted to show Glenn, a little later. The others didn't know about it, and she was hoping later, maybe she and Glenn would get the time to do a little bathing.

Maggie was about to say something else when they heard the screaming begin.

...

8:30 AM

Meagan's Camp

Meagan's camp was not a long walk from the end of the dirt road where Rick left the Acura. Deciding that it arguably wasn't the best idea to walk up to Meagan's camp with the woman's hands tied behind her back, Rick had freed her. Keeping her word, she had led him the short distance through the woods towards her camp. Rick had to hand it to her and her men – there camp was well hidden.

Rick didn't know what to expect as Meagan led him to a small field on the other side of the woods they'd just trekked to. The field seemed to be the most random thing you could expect to find – it was surrounded by trees and didn't look like a very good place for farming. But at some time or another, for some reason, someone had cleared the trees that had once been here, making this field. It sort of baffled Rick, but he could not deny that strategically, it was an excellent place to make a camp.

The camp itself was more of a tent city. Rick had been expecting to find maybe ten other guys waiting here. Instead, he'd been surprised to see tent after tent set up in this field, with a massive number of men, women, and children hustling about. He estimated that there were probably close to a hundred people in this field. How this group managed to feed that many people, Rick could not fathom. His own group was having trouble just finding enough food for the few of them.

And they looked ready for war, too. Meagan led Rick down a small aisle between tents, towards a larger tent than the rest towards the back of the camp. As they passed through the small tent city, Rick noticed that the group truly was prepared to fight a war. He could see a few men carrying a whole bunch of guns from one tent to another. In the distance at the edge of the field, beyond the tents, he caught a glimpse of some men in camouflage running laps, training. Maybe Rick had made the right decision after all.

He tried to ignore the odd glances he was getting. A few people greeted Meagan fondly as they passed by the masses. Finally, they reached the large tent at the back of the camp. Pulling back the entrance to the tent, Meagan motioned for Rick to enter first, which he hesitantly did. Meagan followed behind. Inside the tent, a series of tables were set up with papers – maps, it looked like – scattered throughout them. A few people were inside at the tables, working. Meagan approached one in particular – a bald, skinny, older man who was standing near the back of the tent.

"Evans," Meagan greeted the man, wrapping him in a long hug.

"Meagan," he replied, delighted to see the woman. "You have returned to us. We feared the worst when Paul did not return. Is he with you?"

Meagan broke the hug, a frown on her face. She looked up at Evan with hurt eyes, and he seemed to realize that Paul was not with her. Sadness came across his face as he looked down at the ground.

"I see. That is... really too bad."

"We've got to fight him, Evans," Meagan responded, determination in her voice. "You see that now, right?"

"Yeah," Evans replied. "Yeah, you're right. Michael's got to be stopped."

"I brought someone who can help us," Meagan replied, motioning towards Rick. "This is Rick Grimes. He was a cop."

"Uh. Deputy, actually."

"Yeah. Right. Deputy," Meagan corrected herself. "Michael took one of his men. He's ready to fight back."

"Is that so, son?" Evans replied, glancing over at Rick.

"Yeah," Rick replied, unsure. "Yeah, that's about right."

"Then you're in the right place."

Rick's Camp

Running.

Glenn and Maggie hauled ass back to the camp site the minute they heard the screams. It sounded like Beth. Oh, Lord, please protect her was all Maggie could think as the lovers arrived at the chaotic scene of the camp site. When they arrived, they could see a scared Beth, crying as Carol comforted her by the fire, trying to calm her down. Carl and Hershel were both armed, at alert, glancing out into the forest at some sight unseen.

Maggie rushed over to Beth to make sure her baby sister was okay as Glenn ran towards Hershel, readying his own firearm.

"What happened!?" Glenn demanded.

"Bethy says she saw a man staring at her," Hershel replied, "In the woods."

"We have to go after him!" Carl insisted, "He's getting away."

"Not so fast," Hershel replied, holding out his hand to stop Carl. "We don't know how many of them are out there, or even where they are."

"We can't just do nothing!"

"We're not doing nothing," Hershel explained, "We're staying alive. I'll radio Rick and we'll move the camp to a more secure location."

Carl let out a frustrated sigh but did not rebut Hershel's decision.

Michael's Compound

Daryl hadn't gotten much sleep. At some point, Alex had let Daryl move to the bed, which was a lot more comfy than the chair he'd been in before. Daryl pretended to be sleeping, but he wasn't really. He was actually slowly moving his hands across the rails of the bed frame that he was tied to, trying to cut into the rope that binded his hands together. He had to get out of here. And now was the time to make his escape, while Alex's guard was down.

At least, this had been his plan. But at some point or another, his body just could not stay awake anymore. Between the injuries from two days ago and the pain his body felt from the discomfort of the last few hours, he eventually passed out for real. But when he came to, he was awakened to quite a shock. No, he had not been expecting this at all.

When he came to, Alex was no longer in the room. But a cute brunette of about twenty years of age was in the room. In his bed. With no clothes. Wait, what?

"Um, excuse me," Daryl quietly drew the attention of the woman, who was otherwise... preoccupied... down to Daryl.

"Oh," she let out a timid reply, blushing.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm.. uh.. Pleasuring you."

"No, I can see that," Daryl replied. "I mean, why are you doing that?"

"Because I was told to," she replied, a bit of shame coming to her voice. "Because they would kill me if I did not."

Daryl couldn't make sense of this. Why would these people, who had taken Daryl as a prisoner, order this woman to have sex with him? How did that make any sense? It seemed like something right out of a dirty movie. And where was that man – Alex – who had been guarding Daryl? Right now, he just needed to escape, but he was a little pinned down at the moment.

"Look, don't get me wrong, ma'am," Daryl explained, "But, uh... Can you tell me what the hell is going on right here?"

"This is Michael's insurance," the woman explained.

"Who the hell is Michael?" Daryl replied.

"The man in charge here," she explained.

"What does this bastard want with me?"

"I don't know," she replied. "All I know is that he ordered me to... come wake you up."

"Why?"

"Probably because I'm one of the girls who've been put in isolation."

"Iso...lation?"

"Yeah. All the girls with diseases are put in isolation."

"Disease... like... swine flu?" Daryl asked hopefully.

"Herpes."

Daryl started screaming like a little girl.

Meagan's Camp

"Meagan means well. She really does," Evans explained as he and Rick started walking away from the tent city, towards the edge of the field they were in.

"Yeah, well, she has a funny way of showing it," Rick protested.

"Her methods can be a little... aggressive."

"Yeah, holding a caravan at gun point is more than a little aggressive. One of my people could have been hurt."

"And one of our people was hurt, by you," Evans reminded Rick. "Not just hurt. Killed. Paul was a good man. His parents live here, in the camp. How do you think they will feel when they learn that their son was killed?"

"With all due respect," Rick replied, "He was killed trying to run my people off the road."

"You're right about that," Evans replied, "It was his own fault. But a man is still dead. We must remember that, respect him for the life he lived. That's what makes us different than the Walkers – our ability to feel. To love. If we lose that, we're just like them – searching for food like brainless zombies, doing whatever it takes to survive."

"Something tells me Michael does not feel the same way."

"Michael is... a different kind of man. Trust me. I know. He... He has done things... Seen things... It changed him, what he went through."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this man," Rick replied.

Evans nodded. "Michael and I served overseas together. Hell, he was like a son to me. When the outbreak began, I was living a few counties over. I met up with Paul and Meagan, back when they were just getting started. I had no idea that I'd run into Michael here, or that this was what he'd become."

"Do you really think you can go into battle against someone who's like a son to you?" Rick asked.

"It's because I'm so close to Michael that I have to fight him," Evans explained, "I know how dangerous he is... And I know what he could do if he's not stopped. He's psychotic, Rick. And if he is allowed to have free reign over this county, well, it will send him completely over the edge. He won't stop there. He'll keep expanding, keep growing his forces. He'll take this whole damn state if he gets the chance."

"Look," Rick replied as the two reached the edge of the field and started to turn around. "My wife is pregnant. Most of my people are... Not fighters. They're not trained to fight a war. Especially not if Michael is as... dangerous as you say he is. We'll help you so we can get our friend back. After that, we're getting the hell out of here. I hope you understand."

"I figured you would say that," Evans replied, nodding. "I'm not asking you to give up everything you have. But before you make any decisions, let me show you around the camp. Introduce you to the people there. Okay?"

"I don't think tha-"

Static came through Rick's radio, followed by a voice.

"Rick," it insisted. Hershel's voice.

Rick grabbed his radio, holding it up to his mouth. "Go ahead."

"We spotted a man in the woods, possibly one of Michael's. He was spying on the camp. He got away."

Rick felt a chill go down his spine. Michael was spying on Rick's own wife and kids now. Damn. How could Rick have been so naive? Why hadn't he moved the camp when Daryl got abducted? Rick felt like kicking himself in the ass. Lori and Carl could have been hurt. Or worse.

"Sounds like you could use a place to stay," Evans suggested.

"We couldn't poss-"

"Rick. Think of your people. Think of your wife. This is the safest place in the county right now."

Rick paused. Hesitantly, he held the talk button on the radio.

"Hershel. Load up the camp and meet me at the pasture a mile down from the camp."

This was personal now.

...

Day 3's Conclusion

December 23rd

On a hill, overlooking the massive forest that dominated much of this land, stood two men. From this hill, they could see for miles. The trees below, their limbs gently shaking with the wind. The sound of the birds chirping nearby. The roar of the massive creek that ran through the county. It was truly a beautiful sight to see. But today, a darkness was glooming from the hill top.

"Michael. The men are waiting for your command."

Keyers stood behind Michael, trying not to disturb the man. Michael was a startling sight to see. Not because he had an intimidating form – he really did not. In fact, Michael was so... scary precisely because he did not look like a killer. He looked like a perfectly normal man, his brown hair curly, a mustache growing upon his face. He couldn't have been much older than thirty, and his body was muscular, sure, but not like that of a body builder.

It wasn't Michael's appearance that set people off. It was his demeanor.

He did not respond to Keyers' statement, and Keyers slowly wandered off. A moment later, Michael heard Samuel, his right-hand-man, approach behind him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Michael asked, without turning to meet his friend.

"I... suppose," Samuel replied quietly. He wasn't much for sight seeing.

"Take a hard look, Samuel," Michael commanded, "This is what we're fighting for. This is what we're fighting to control. There's a war looming. A great storm is coming. I can feel it in my bones. But you and me, Samuel. We are destined to win this war. It is our fate, to lead these men into battle, and we shall ravage all things we touch. And when we win, we shall claim our true places as KINGS in this new world. It's the most important law in nature. Only the strongest will survive. We are the strongest, Samuel. And. We. Will. Survive."

After all, Michael thought. It was their destiny.

A wide smile spread upon his face as he and Samuels turned and made their way back down the massive hill. At the bottom of the hill, a massive caravan of trucks, jeeps, and even one tank awaited them. A large, red, dirt road was before them, its destination of the upmost importance to these men. This road was the road to glory. This road... Was the road to war.

As Michael and Samuel approached, a few men dressed in black vests and camouflage approached them, including Keyers. Michael looked upon the men proudly. These brave men had volunteered their time, their lives, their blood to the cause of making a new world. It started here, he had told them. It started with this county. But soon, they would spread throughout all lands. They would restore order to this world. And they would be the new knights of it, the heroes who had given it all to make this new world order. They would be kings among men, responsible for ushering in a new age of human history. That was what Michael had told these men.

"Keyers," Michael ordered, "Take Reyes and Charlie's teams and attack the camp."

"Yes, sir," Keyers replied. "And what about the hostage?"

"We may still need him. Have your men take him to the bridge but keep him alive until I give the order. I am leaving him in your hands. I can trust you. Right, Keyers?"

"You can trust me, sir."

"Good. Now go. Eleven o'clock will be upon us soon."

Indeed it would. With only an hour and a half until the meeting at town square was scheduled to go down, there was a lot of preparations to be made between now and then.

Rick's Camp

"Okay. Is everyone packed up?" Hershel asked as Carol carried the last box of supplies to the Hyundai.

"I think we're ready, Hershel," Glenn responded, squeezing Maggie's hand reassuringly. Maggie had one hand clinging to Glenn's and the other wrapped around a still shook-up Beth. Hershel was angry – furious, actually, of course, but he wouldn't show his anger right now. He was angry at Michael. And he would show his anger on the battlefield. For now, he had to be a leader and help Rick.

Which meant getting these people to safety.

"T-Dog," Hershel demanded, "You take the Chevy. Take Lori, Beth, and Carl with you. Glenn, you and Maggie go with Carol in the Hyundai. Everyone, keep your eyes peeled on the road ahead and your firearms ready... Stay safe. And stay together. Rick will find us. We will be okay if we stay together. Am I clear?"

A string of "yes sirs" followed.

"Good. Let's go."

Everyone began to load up into the vehicles, prepared to head towards the place Rick had instructed them to meet him. As Carl started to pass by Hershel, the older man stopped him, looking down at the boy who was slowly becoming a man. Handing Carl a shotgun, Hershel had a serious look on his face as he studied Carl.

"You take care of my daughter, okay? That's your job until all of this is over. Can you handle that for me?"

Pride swelled up in Carl. He was being given responsibility. Hershel was trusting him with this. Suddenly, he felt like, for a split second, this was sort of what it meant to be a man. Not knowing how to fix a motorcycle or how to pick up women. It was being able to take care of what was important to you that made you a man. Carl proudly took the shotgun from Hershel, nodding, a serious look on his face.

"You can count on me, Hershel," he told the man.

"Good. Now get going," Hershel said, patting Carl on the back, "I trust you."

"What about you, Hershel?"

The older man grinned like a boy. "I've got my own ride."

The Pasture

Rick hadn't had time to meet Meagan's people just yet. He'd made his way as quickly as possible back to the pasture. A big, burly black man named Jackson had come with Rick, and with him, he'd brought an M16. How this group had managed to obtain M16s, Rick wasn't really sure, but right now, he was thankful they had. So, they waited in the pasture in Paul's beat up Acura, their eyes peeled on the road in front of them, the road that Paul had lost his life on. The road that Meagan had held Rick's group at gunpoint on. This road had caused Rick quite a bit of trouble over the last few days.

Neither Rick nor Jackson spoke. Rick got the feeling that Jackson wasn't a talker, which suited Rick just fine. They just sat, waiting. By now, the morning sun had long ago risen and the time was approaching that Rick would have to meet Michael, face-to-face. When that happened, Rick wanted to be prepared. So, the sooner his group got here, the sooner they could get back to Meagan's camp and work out a plan. Rick found himself tapping his foot impatiently.

Jackson was the first one to break the silence. Rick could hear hurt in his voice and wondered what he'd been through over the last few months.

"Your friend," Jackson said, "Daryl, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Rick replied. "Yeah, that's right."

"I hope you get him back."

Rick nodded, deep in thought, somewhat moved by the short few words that Jackson had provided Rick. Carol had shown him the letter she found in the Acura – the one Meagan had written for Paul a week or so ago. It had mentioned that Paul should find Jackson for help if he was successful in raiding a group of by-standards on the road.

"I'm sorry about Paul," Rick offered. "I don't know if you were close with him or not. But from what I hear, he was a great man. He didn't deserve to die."

"Paul was doing what it took for us to survive," Jackson explained. "In a camp with one hundred and twenty three people, it's hard to feed everyone. Meagan tries her hardest to find good hunting grounds that aren't controlled by Michael and his men, but they've started to expand to the nearby counties now too. And moving this many people more than thirty miles at the most? That's not easy – not by a long shot. Paul didn't like doing what he was doing, but we have people going hungry in our camp."

Jackson continued. "That's why this war with Michael is so important. He killed two of our own. He's threatening to kill us all. He's hoarding the only food around for miles and refuses to share his hunting ground. We figured if we could find enough food to last us a few weeks, we might be able to move south, away from Michael and his men. But until we are able to move that many people, we've got to survive. That's what this war is about. Our survival."

Rick was a bit taken a back. Maybe Jackson wasn't so quiet after all. As Rick sat there, absorbing everything Jackson had just said, he silently said a prayer. He wasn't a very religious person, but right now, he felt like there was a God in the sky looking out for him. Sure, the group had experienced their hardships so far. The CDC in Atlanta. Hershel's farm being overrun. All the people they'd lost – Dale, Shane, Andrea. But still.

They were alive. They had food. And they had each other. And Rick knew that having each other was the most important thing for them right now. Survival, yes, that was necessary. But in order to survive, they needed each other. They needed to be a family, to support each other. To stand beside one another. And that meant not leaving anyone behind. Rick knew now that they would have to fight. They would have to fight to survive, just like this camp. Only, for Rick and his camp, their survival wasn't about food. It was about family. It was about saving Daryl and keeping the group together.

Rick suddenly knew what the right thing to do was.

The Bridge

The bridge wasn't anything special. Just a small bridge, probably no more than twelve feet long, it ran over the creek stream which ran through this county. It was also one of the only roads into the county south of Michael's hunting grounds. Just up ahead past the bridge another three miles was the county line, the edge of Michael's domain. For now.

This was where Alex had taken Daryl, as per Keyer's instructions. The creek below was particularly turbulent today, and it was a long way down from the bridge to the creek. One jeep and a large transport truck – an eighteen wheeler - made their way onto the bridge, slowing down once they reached it and halting. Out of the eighteen wheeler, Alex stepped out and started walking towards the trailer attached to the truck.

Opening the door to the trailer, he peered inside to see Daryl, hands tied and just the way he'd been left. Climbing up into the trailer, Alex approached the redneck who was sitting on his knees. He looked up at Alex distastefully. Their eyes locked as Alex contemplated what to do with Daryl. As he stood there in thought, to his surprise, Daryl reached over and... Bit Alex in the leg.

"OUCH! YOU SONUVA BITCH!" Alex hollered out as a few men came running over to the trailer, looking inside.

"HE BIT ME!" Alex declared, pulling back towards the trailer's entrance. "Get him out here," Alex demanded of the men, who obediently climbed inside the truck to retrieve Daryl as Alex went to tend to his wound.

The Country Road – Near Rick's Camp

Rick's group made their way onto the road, driving the half mile down the road from the camp-site at the edge of the treeline, along the hill which Glenn had rolled down the first day they'd been here. When they got to the part of the road where the ground flattened out, they drove onto the road and started to drive towards the pasture where they were supposed to meet Rick. It was only a few miles down the road.

Hershel was leading the group, riding Daryl's motorcycle of all things. Behind him, T-Dog was driving the Suburban, his eyes constantly switching from the road ahead to his mirrors. In the seat next to him, Lori had her grip on a shotgun, ready to fire if needed. In the back seat, Carl was doing his best to be brave for Beth and to do what Hershel had told him to do. Beth sat in the seat next to him, trying not to be scared herself.

"Good lord, who knew the man could ride a motorcycle?" Lori asked, trying to break the tension a bit.

"Heh," Beth replied, giving herself a much needed break from worrying, "Daddy used to own a motorcycle. Mama made him give it up, said it was dangerous."

"She was right," Lori replied, "That thing's a death trap. If Rick ever tried to buy one, I would let him hear it, that's for sure."

Meanwhile, behind the Suburban, Glenn was driving the Hyundai. He kept trying to do his best to go with the flow of traffic ahead, but he was nervous. When he was nervous, he tended to drive fast. It was a bad habit of his. Today, he felt like a race-car driver.

Maggie could tell that Glenn was nervous. She lightly brushed her hand over Glenn's arm from the passenger seat. Glenn let out a sigh, trying to relax. She knew him well. They'd only been together for a few months, but Glenn felt himself falling for Maggie with every passing day. He remembered what Hershel had told him... How Glenn was part of the family now. Glenn tried to relax, for Maggie's sake, but it wasn't easy.

"Hey," she told him calmly, "It's all going to be okay."

"You're right," Glenn replied, trying to reassure himself and her. "Everything will be alright. Rick will make sure we're safe. Right?"

"Yeah," Carol snorted from the back seat, "Just like he made us feel safe when he killed Shane, or when he didn't tell us that these... these things... that we're all infected.."

Silence.

"Sorry," Carol muttered, "You're right. Rick will know what's best... I hope."

"Hey," Glenn changed the topic, urgency in his voice as he looked in the rear-view mirror, "Is that... Oh no. Not again."

Fear spread in Maggie's eyes as she looked out one of the side mirrors and saw what Glenn had spotted. Behind them, in the distance but growing closer all too quickly, there was at least one black vehicle – possibly more.

"Oh, shit," Maggie muttered, "GLENN. DRIVE. FAST. HURRY. HONK YOUR HORN. DO SOMETHING."

Glenn frantically began to honk his own, to flash his lights, trying to get the others' attention as he shifted in the lane a bit to allow T-Dog a better view at the road behind Glenn. T-Dog spotted it, too, after a bit, and so did Hershel. There was another car behind them. And it was catching up to them. Fast.

"Hold on. Tight," Glenn insisted to Maggie and Carol as they all made sure their seat belts were tight. All three vehicles began to speed up – fast. As fast as possible. They just needed to make it a little bit further and they would be at the pasture. But then what? Who knew how many cars were behind them. And if it was Michael's group behind them, the last thing they wanted was to lead that group to Meagan's camp.

But it didn't matter. Before the thought of, "What do we do when we get to the pasture?" even had a chance to register in their minds, the two trucks behind them had caught up. They were right behind Glenn's Hyundai and he could see the two trucks riding side by side behind him. And then, one of the two trucks sped up a little bit faster, riding beside Glenn while the other trailed behind him.

They were boxing Glenn in.

"Glenn," Maggie urgently said, eyes locked on the vehicle riding only inches away from Glenn.

"Not the best time, Mags," Glenn replied, eyes locked on the road ahead.

"Glenn. Lean back."

"What?"

"Lean back," Maggie insisted, holding up her shotgun. Glenn leaned his head back against the driver's seat headrest, trying not to be nervous as Maggie aimed her gun at the car riding beside them.

"You might want to cover your ears, Carol," Maggie insisted.

Glenn, who's hands were on the steering wheel, gulped, readying himself for the deafening sound of a shotgun going on right next to him, for the feeling of the air in front of him moving as a bullet passed by. Glenn rolled down the window for the driver's seat and Maggie fired a round at the car next to them. To her delight, it was a successful shot as the vehicle that had been riding beside them ran off the road and crashed.

One down, one to go.

But before Maggie even had a chance to reload, the truck behind them lightly bumped into the Hyundai, roughly jerking the group inside around. Just a small tap, but still. Glenn floored the gas, trying to put some distance between him and the truck behind him as Maggie fumbled with her gun, trying to reload as quickly as possible.

Tap.

The truck hit them again, this time a bit rougher. Glenn kept driving.

Then, the truck backed off a bit... But Glenn was not relieved. Because he could hear the truck revving up behind him now, and he knew that the driver of the truck was about to go full speed and probably ram into him. Glenn didn't know what to do. He saw the truck shoot forward in his rear-view mirror. Oh no. No. No.

"Guys, hold on. Maggie, I l-"

Pow.

To the surprise of all three adults, someone had successfully shot into the truck's tires. But it hadn't been Maggie. The three watched as the driver of the truck behind them lost control of his vehicle and the truck flipped over on the road. Glenn let out a sigh of relief. They had survived. He was surprised when he looked forward and saw Lori hanging out the shotgun seat window of the Suburban, a shotgun in her hand and a proud look upon her face.

"That... was a close one," Glenn stated as Maggie and Carol just nodded.

The Pasture

A look of relief came across Rick's face when he saw his group approaching. He and Jackson both stepped out of the car, ready to greet them. Rick became a little more concern when he saw the look on their faces. He could see a very serious look on Hershel's face. Behind him, he could see a worried look on Lori's face as well. He didn't like that look.

As Hershel pulled up towards Rick, he just shook his head. T-Dog and Glenn stopped behind him.

"Everyone's safe," Hershel assured Rick. "Two vehicles tried to run us off the road."

Rick glanced over at Jackson.

"Everyone's accounted for back at the camp," Jackson assured them, "Sounds like it was Michael."

"Alright. We ought to go check it out," Rick replied.

"No," Hershel replied firmly, looking at Rick. "You've got to get these people to safety first, Rick."

"Yeah," Rick replied. He nodded his head, affirming the thought. "Yeah, you're right. We'll take everyone to the camp and then come back," Rick decided.

"You go ahead back to camp," Jackson insisted. "I need to go make sure there's nobody trailing behind who could find the camp."

"Are you sure?" Rick replied.

"Yeah. I'll be fine," Jackson replied.

"Here," Hershel insisted, "Take this."

Parking the motorcycle and standing up, Hershel looked over at Jackson.

"I appreciate it," he said simply, nodding his head at Hershel before walking over to the motorcycle and mounting it. "I'll meet you guys back at the camp."

"Stay safe," Rick insisted.

As Jackson rode off to investigate the vehicles that had tried to run the group off the road, Rick motioned for the others to follow him and got back into the Acura. Hershel joined him in the Acura and the group began to take off towards Meagan's camp.

"Not a very talkative fellow, is he?" Hershel asked.

"Who. Jackson?" Rick replied. "No, he's not. But he seems like a good man to me."

Hershel was silent. He trusted Rick. He knew that Rick was the one who would lead them through this. But at the same time, he had to ask himself. Was Rick making the best decision right now? Could the group trust Meagan and her camp? Hershel tried to shake these thoughts out of his mind. Right now, he needed to be a follower. He needed to support Rick however he could.

"So, what's the plan?" Hershel asked.

"Get back to camp," Rick replied, "Coordinate with Meagan's people. And get ready to go to war."

"Do you think we can fight them?" Hershel asked. "Michael and his men?"

"Meagan thinks we can. If we're smart about it. These guys may be vicious, but that's also their fatal flaw. They're like animals. Wild. Untamed. We have to outsmart them. That's the only way we're going to get Daryl back."

"Sounds like we've got a lot of work ahead of us, then," Hershel replied.

"That we do," Rick admitted. "That we do."

The Bridge

Daryl could feel the gun against his back. He could also feel Alex's angry glare from behind him. He knew that his chances weren't good. Right now, he was standing against a guard rail on the bridge. If he were to topple over right now, he would fall face-first into the creek below. And he also knew that there were probably ten well-armed men behind him right now ready to shoot him at any moment.

He considered his options. He could try to make a run for it – jump into the creek. He probably wouldn't survive. They'd shoot him the moment he hit the water. He really doubted he could outswim their guns. But what was his other option? Stay here and wait to be killed? Daryl shook his head. That wasn't an option.

But then, there was another possibility. He thought back to what had just transpired an hour ago, before they'd brought him here.

"HERPES!?" Daryl demanded as the brunette stood up and began to get dressed. It was only now that Daryl realized he'd been freed of his restraints and could move freely. He sat up, eyes locked on the girl who had apparently just given him an STD.

"Yeah," she replied, "It's not fun."

"Wait... What the hell!?"

"Oh, cool your horses. We didn't actually do it. You're safe."

"What? But. When I woke up, you were naked, and you were -"

"I wasn't... with you. Not all the way. Trust me. You would have woken up a lot sooner if we actually were having sex."

"But I thought you said-"

"Don't say it. There's a camera behind me. They can read your lips."

Daryl noticed the camera on the wall behind her. He looked back at the girl, still worried that he'd possibly been given an STD.

"So, you're saying we didn't actually have sex."

"No. Michael occasionally has... enemies who he tries to give sexual diseases to. He's raided all the medical supplies in the area and is the only one for miles who has the supplies to treat it. But be warned. Michael's going to try to kill you. I'm almost certain of it. He just does this so that way they don't try to escape. So you wouldn't try to escape."

"That's insane," Daryl replied. "I would rather take my chances out there without treatment than come back to this lunatic."

"Yeah, it doesn't make much sense, does it?" the brunette replied, "I think, more than anything, Michael does it just to fulfill his own sadistic amusement."

"But you... you didn't actually... we didn't...?"

"I was an actress," she revealed, "Before... you know. Don't worry. You're safe. We didn't actually do it. But Michael will think we did."

"Thank you," Daryl replied, letting out a sigh of relief. "What's your name?"

"Dani," she replied, "What's yours?"

"Daryl," he replied. "Dixon."

"Huh," she replied, putting on her shirt. "Listen. I bet you probably think I'm... a lot of things right now. A slut. A prostitute. I don't know. But I'm not. Before the world went to hell, I was just a normal girl, trying to make my way through college while waiting tables. I didn't... I didn't ask for this."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're the girl who just risked her life to not give me a sexual disease."

"Yeah, well," Dani replied, "I just wish I'd been shown mercy when.. When it happened to me."

"Wait. You mean this.. Michael guy tried to... kill you too?"

"Yeah," she replied, "Me and the other girls too. It happened a few months after the outbreak. I was at the college, just ten miles north of here. Me and a bunch of my classmates had boarded up there and were trying to survive hoping – I don't know, hoping that help was on the way or something. That's when Michael and his men showed up.

"When we first met them, they came driving up to the college with tanks and trucks, wearing military clothing, carrying guns, with medical supplies and food. We thought it was the military, coming to save us. We thought there was still order. Still... A United States government or something. We let them into our college, let them share our food, let them share our empty beds.

"We still didn't realize at the time... That they weren't who they said they were. Then, a few nights after they arrived, I woke up in the middle of the night to shouting. A few minutes later, two of them bust into my room, gag both my roommate and myself, and drag us out of there, out to one of their trucks, and loaded us up like cattle – me and a bunch of other girls. When they took us outside to the trucks, I could see them lining up the guys who were resisting... And they shot them, cold dead. Execution style.

"They brought us here, to this compound. Lined us up outside and all the men piled up nearby. Each one of them... they got to pick which one of us they wanted. Some of the people I'd called classmates, some of the guys I'd trusted with my life, joined Michael that night... They were right there with the rest of them, taking advantage of the girls they'd once called friends. I don't remember how many men raped me that night. All I know is that one of them gave me this disease.

"I guess it was an accident or something, at least at first. Michael hadn't actually intended to spread a sexual disease among his own men or the women he'd just abducted. But when he found out what happened, he... He ordered for all of us to be killed. He loaded us up, took us to this... this bridge at the edge of the county. They lined us up to be slaughtered... I was about to die. I've never been as scared as I was on that day. And then, at the last moment, that man who was in here earlier... Alex. He managed to convince Michael to spare a few of us, convinced him that it would be useful having women with a sexually transmitted disease around, for times like this," Dani explained her story, fighting back tears as she shared with Daryl.

"Alex did that?" Daryl replied, "Why?"

"His sister," Dani replied, "She was one of the ones who got the disease. He'd do anything to protect her."

Daryl didn't have a lot of options right now. But if he wanted to survive, he needed to do something. Quick. It was a long shot, but it was all he had to go off right now. He needed to talk to Alex. He needed to convince Alex not to kill him. And to do that, he would have to sell his soul... He would have to offer Alex something which he really didn't want to offer, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. He would have to help Alex.

But first, he had to get Alex alone. Which was precisely why he'd bit Alex earlier. Because what Alex's men hadn't heard after Daryl bit Alex was this:

"I can help you save your sister. And the other girls too. My friends have weapons. We can break her out. But first, you've got to trust me."

Daryl just hoped his words had gotten through to Alex. And it seemed that maybe they had, because after what seemed like an eternity of Daryl staring at the muddy water below, Alex spoke up from behind.

"I'm tired of waiting. I'm dealing with this son of a bitch myself."

"Alex, that's a bad idea. You should wait until Michael gives the order."

"Fuck that," Alex replied, "This son of a bitch had the audacity to bite me."

Daryl smirked. "Why don't you go cry about it, you big baby?"

"What the hell did you just say to me, son!?"

"Maybe if you weren't such a pussy, you'd have the guts to do something about it."

"Alright, that's it," Alex retorted, "I'm taking this motherfucker out."

And that's when Alex pointed his gun at Daryl...

And he fired.

Meagan's Camp

As soon as Rick and his group had made it to Meagan's camp, Rick had joined Evans and Meagan in the big tent to talk strategy. Evans had introduced the group to a friendly family who were sleeping in a few tents near the big tent. The family consisted of an aging but friendly man named George who had lost much of his hair, his wife Lucille who was a pretty, brunette woman, George's father Vinny who was a kind old man, and George and Lucille's children – Rebecca, who was a blonde girl about Beth's age, and Jacob, a thirteen year old with dark, black hair.

Jacob had taken off with Carl to show him around, and Beth and Rebecca were now hanging out in Rebecca's tent. George and Lucille's tent was a bit larger. During the day, it acted as a living area, with a fold-able table and a few chairs set up inside it. Hershel, Lori, and Carol joined George and Lucille in their tent as George poured some tea for the group.

"Life's not bad here," George explained. "We've got it pretty good. We have a place to raise our kids, we have enough food to not go hungry most of the time. We keep men posted at every corner of the camp watching for the walkers. We're surviving."

"It looks like you're doing more than just that," Hershel remarked, taking the first sip of tea he'd had in days.

"Ah," Lucille replied, smiling, "You mean the guns."

"How did your camp come across all those weapons, anyway?" Carol asked.

A slightly serious look filled George's eyes but he still smiled as he sat down with his own cup of tea and looked over at the three guests sitting across from him, ready to tell the story, beaming with the excitement of a boy but the resolve of a man.

"We stole them."

"You... stole them?" Lori echoed.

"Yeah, stole them. From one of those... doomsday preppers."

"And you all made it out alive?" Lori replied, a bit surprised.

"Because of Paul," George replied. "He was smart like that. We found this guy's bunker. Crazy old man with enough guns to finance a small army. Unfortunately, he'd spent all that time collecting guns but hadn't gathered enough food or water. Paul was raiding a supermarket when this crazy old man comes in waving his M16 around with this crazy look in his eye.

"Paul talked to him, found out his story. And when he realized that this man was sitting on an entire cache of weapons, he convinced the man to take Paul back to his bunker. Once they were inside, Paul snuck up on the man from behind, knocked him out cold, tied him up, and called for help. We took his weapons... And then we shot him and never looked back."

Carol, Lori, and Hershel all looked at George, terrified as the man stared back at them with a very serious look on his face. These guys were... maniacs. They'd killed that old man and taken all of his weapons. That was... crazy. Who were they getting into bed with!?

That's when George started busting out laughing, as did Lucille. Hershel, Lori, and Carol were confused.

"You... should... have... seen," George said, in between his fits of laughter, "the look... on your faces!"

The three let out a collective sigh when they realized that these two were pulling their legs, but still, Hershel couldn't help but feel uneasy. Something was off about these people. Something was off about this entire camp. Hershel felt it. He felt it in his bones.

In Rebecca's tent, Beth sat happily on the comfortable mattress which lined the tent floor, sitting beside Rebecca. It felt nice for Beth to finally have someone her own age to talk to again. Rebecca had been a junior in high school when the walkers had started appearing. She reminded Beth a lot of herself. She liked the same music Beth liked, had read the same magazines Beth had read. Had the same celebrity crushes. It was nice, to be able to forget about the crazy, hellish world that they were living in, if only for a bit.

"So anyway, you're brother's adorable!" Rebecca told Beth.

"My brother?" Beth asked. Shawn...?

"Yeah. How cute is he!? I mean, a cowboy hat!?"

Oh.

"That's um," Beth replied, "That's not my brother."

"Oh," Rebecca replied, "Boyfriend?"

Beth frowned in disgust. "He's thirteen."

A knowing smile spread across Rebecca's face as she replied, "I get it. You're going after the old man."

"WHAT!? EW, GROSS! THAT'S MY DAD!" Beth shouted...

As Carl and Jacob were walking by the tent outside. They both stopped.

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" Carl asked, now confused.

Jacob shrugged. "Who knows. They're women."

Carl snorted and the two went on their way.

Meanwhile, T-Dog had made his way to the edge of the camp, doing a little investigating of his own. He silently walked around the perimeter of the camp, checking out the scene, before finding himself a stump near the forest that the group had come through to get to the camp. Staring out into the treeline, T-Dog found himself lost in thought. While everyone else was all running about doing whatever they were doing, T-Dog just wanted his truck back.

"Man, why the hell did they have to take my truck?" he asked himself silently. "Damn, man."

T-Dog was interrupted when he heard something move in the treeline. Alarmed, he readied his weapon, standing and getting ready to shoot at any walkers that might suddenly pop out of nowhere. He lowered his weapon when he saw Jackson emerge from the treeline, returning from his investigating. The two men said nothing. Something told him that he would like Jackson. Man, that motherfucker was as quiet as T-Dog was.

In the big tent, Rick was huddled over a map as Meagan pointed at a red circle drawn in one corner. "If we push them back to this hill and keep our reserves posted on its top, we should be able to surround them. The hill will give us a major advantage."

"It'll also make our men visible to the enemy," Rick countered, "If they know where we are, they'll know what we're planning."

"Leave that to my men," Evans replied from the other side of the room. He'd been silent for most of this conversation, but now gladly spoke up. "They'll be too busy fighting us to notice our men on top of the hill."

"It's risky," Rick complained.

"All good things require risks to be taken," Meagan countered. "Our men on the hill will be safe. As long as we push Michael's men northward from the forest, they will be out of visual range until it's too late for Michael's men to do anything. The trees will provide cover."

"And what about Michael?" Rick asked, "You really think he's going to be on the front lines?"

"I'll handle Michael," Meagan replied, fierce determination in her eyes. "He won't leave alive."

"I'm going with you," Rick replied.

"We need you to take the complex," Evans replied, "Let Meagan handle Michael."

"By yourself?" Rick asked her.

"I'm a big girl. I can handle him."

"She won't be alone," Evans assured Rick, "I should have seen the warning signs. I should have helped Michael, should have gotten him to a safer place... Mentally, I mean. Maybe if I would have gotten him some help before the walkers began killin' people, he would have been kinder. More normal, maybe. I can't help but feel like part of this is my fault."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rick replied, silently remembering the pain he'd felt when he had to kill his own best friend. When he watched his son put Shane's reanimated form down for good. That had been painful to watch. That had been painful to live through. Rick knew exactly how Evans was feeling. At least, he thought he did.

Rick was snapped out of his thoughts when T-Dog and Jackson entered the big tent.

"Did you find anything?" Rick asked Jackson.

Jackson nodded, holding out a wallet and handing it to Meagan. The woman opened it, glancing down at the Georgia drivers license inside it.

"No way," Meagan stated.

"What is it?" Evans asked, looking up from the desk he was now sitting at.

Meagan tossed him the wallet and he looked inside. A look of shock came across his face when he saw what was inside.

"It was Keyers," Evans revealed.

"Dead as a doornail," Jackson replied, "I saw him with my own eyes."

"Who's Keyers?" Rick asked.

"He was one of our guys," Evans explained, "Always was a bit off, if you ask me. Always going on about how many people he'd killed fighting in the war. Like he was bragging. He switched sides, joined Michael almost as soon as we arrived in this county. That's when we set up camp here, so he couldn't find us."

"So that confirms it," Rick replied, "Michael's men tried to kill my people."

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Evans replied, smiling as he stood up. Rick was looking down at his fists which were slowly curling as his blood started to boil. He was interrupted when Evans walked over to him. "Come on, friend. Sitting here won't do anything. It's time for us to go get your friend back."

Rick nodded, standing, a determined look on his face. It was time to rescue Daryl.

The Creek

Daryl, as it turned out, didn't need rescuing after all. Alex, Daryl figured, had probably made it pretty convincing. But Daryl hadn't actually been shot – the bullet hadn't even grazed him. But the moment the gunshot was fired, Daryl had toppled over – purposefully – into the creek below – and did his best to play dead as the stream carried his body away from the bridge.

That had been about twenty minutes ago now. Once Daryl was sure that he was out of sight from the bridge, he tried to move his body towards the shore. He was floating on his back, but his hands were still tied behind his back and he wasn't able to swim right now because of that. He needed to get his hands free. Kicking his feet, he managed to position his body so, for a moment, he was floating horizontally with the creek bank.

Setting his foot onto the creek bank, Daryl tried to anchor himself. It took him a few tries as the creek was strong, but eventually, he was able to get his legs onto the ground to anchor his upper-body which was still in the creek. Now came the hard part. Exerting as much effort as he could, Daryl tried to pull his upper-body up, against the current, so he was leaning against his legs. He let out a small groan of pain as his arms were under stress from the unnatural position he was in, and he extended his arms outward from his back to give him some relief.

Finally, with a bit more effort, Daryl managed to roll his body out of the water and onto the ground. Rolling over again so he was sitting up, Daryl looked around at his surroundings. He seemed to have floated quite a ways away from the bridge and was in the woods somewhere. He saw a large rock nearby and scooted over towards it, facing away from it. Running the rope which binded his hands across the rock, he tried to cut into it.

And it took him awhile, but after what seemed like an hour of trying to free himself, finally, he heard the snap of the rope behind him. His hands were free and he immediately brought them to a more comfortable place. He wanted more than anything to lay down and rest right now. But he couldn't afford to. He needed to find the others.

And he needed to free Dani and the other girls as well.

Daryl stood up and tried to collect himself when he heard rustling of leaves nearby. Now would have been a nice time to have his crossbow, but seeing as how he had no such crossbow, Daryl picked up the massive rock that was laying nearby. Footsteps. Growing closer. Just around the tree that Daryl was leaning against. Slowly, Daryl took a step backwards, ready to sneak up behind whoever was approaching...

And that's when he noticed it was a walker.

Daryl slammed the rock into the walker's head, knocking it into the ground. Gashing the rock into the walker's head, Daryl let out a sigh. With that taken care of, he stood and took one last look at the creek before him. Then, he stood and started to turn towards the woods...

When he saw the man in the suit standing there behind him.

Town Square

It was sort of funny, really. When the walkers started biting people, everyone kind of just stopped what they'd been doing. They'd left their old lives behind. Now, all that mattered to most people was surviving. But it was at places like this, in the town square of some random town in Georgia, that you could truly see how true that was. This place was like a snapshot in time of the day the Walkers had attacked.

A "Welcome Home To Our Soldiers" banner hung above city hall. Shops that had long ago closed still had their "Yes, We're Open" signs up. Cars were parked in the street, at red lights, at stop signs. It was quite the bizarre sight, really. The town was now devoid of people, but it looked like someone could have been here just yesterday.

Rick didn't know if he would survive the encounter he was about to have with Michael. He knew that he had to try. For the sake of his son and wife, he had to do everything in his power to survive. But he also knew that, for the sake of the entire group, he had to do everything in his power to rescue Daryl as well. He kept telling himself stick to the plan. But the plan required him to trust Meagan. It required him to trust Evans.

It required him to trust anyone, really.

And right now, Rick was a little short on trust. His best friend had taken his wife and son, told them he was dead. Had slept with his wife. Rick's own best friend... Had tried to put a bullet in his brain. And that was hard for Rick to accept. How could he? The only people in this world Rick thought he could count on had all betrayed him.

But he wasn't going to give up. To do that would surely mean death. Death for him and his wife who he loved more than anything. Death for his son who he would give his entire world to protect. Death for Hershel, who had given up his farm for Rick to protect his wife and son. Death for Hershel's daughters. For Glenn. For Carol. For T-Dog.

No, Rick didn't trust anyone anymore. But he did love them all. And he knew that if he were to survive. If anyone were to survive. It was those bonds that was most important. That was why he would fight. He would fight for a world where all that was sane and normal could exist again. Where trust could exist again. Where love could exist again.

Rick would fight. And perhaps he would die. But if he did, he would die fighting for a better world for his son and wife and unborn child. And that was all Rick could do. As a father, as a husband. As a man. All Rick could do was his very best to make a lasting impact on this world. Right now, that meant saving Daryl Dixon from a maniac. Right now, that meant negotiating in a town square while Meagan's snipers got into position. Right now, that meant distracting Michael for just long enough for Meagan to take the kill shot. And right now, it meant being ready for whatever would go down after Michael was taken out. This was Rick's reality, his current circumstance. This was where Rick Grimes was right now, and this was where he would make his stand.

He approached on foot. Alone. His firearm was buckled to his side, but he was ready to draw it out at any moment. He stopped when he reached the steps of town hall, where Michael had instructed him to meet. A few moments later, from the opposite direction as that which Rick had come, Michael approached. Rick's eyes examined the man who was responsible for kidnapping his friend. The psychopath who Rick had been sent here to help kill today.

And it took all the energy Rick had not to draw his weapon right now and shoot Michael dead.

"Hello there, Rick," Michael greeted Rick as he approached the town hall steps. "I'm glad you decided to meet with me. You made the right decision."

"Where is my friend?" Rick demanded.

"You really don't remember me, do you, Rick?"

Rick glared at Michael, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

"I'm hurt. I sincerely hoped you would remember who I was... Maybe this will jog your memory," Michael replied. Clearing his throat, Michael spoke in a lighter, scared tone.

"No, please! I-I-I didn't mean to kill him! I was so scared! I thought he was going to shoot me! I-I-I just... fired my gun! I didn't want to kill anyone!"

Rick's eyes narrowed... He remembered.

"You... BASTARD!" Rick shouted.

"I really did enjoy killing him," Michael taunted, a smile on his face. "What was his name? Your old partner? Vance? Victor? V-"

"Van," Rick replied, anger radiating from his voice.

"Oh, that's right!" Michael replied, delighted. "Van! Van was so fun! Watching his blood pour out upon my hands! WHAT AN EXILIERATING FEELING! Tell me, Rick. Have you ever done it!? Have you ever killed someone!? Doesn't it feel so... good!?"

Rick couldn't help it. This bastard... Taunting him. Admitting his guilt. Admitting he was the one who had killed Van, a man who had been like a father to Rick. Admitting that it wasn't out of self defense. Admitting that it had been murder. Michael was a psychopath. And Rick was going to put him down. Right. Now.

Drawing his weapon, Rick pointed it at Michael and, before the man even had a chance to react, he fired his gun.

The Woods

"Very well done, Mr. Dixon," the man in the suit greeted Daryl. "Very well done indeed."

"Who the hell are you, and how do you know my name?" Daryl replied.

"Oh, I know all about you, Mr. Dixon. And as for who I am? Let's just say I'm... A friend. You can call me Evans."

"You come to take me back to Michael?" Daryl asked, "Cause I'm not going. You can put a bullet in my head right now."

"Oh, on the contrary, Mr. Dixon," Evans replied, "I've come to take you somewhere safe... If you will, follow me. Our ride should be here soon."

In the sky above, the distant sound of a helicopter approaching could be heard.

"Ah, there it is now. Tell me, Mr. Dixon. Have you ever rode in a helicopter before?"

A/N: OKAY! That's it for Day 3! Many of you may be going, "Wait, what?"

Don't worry. All will be revealed in Day 4. I like skipping around sometimes and using short time-skips and cliff-hangers. Go on and comment and tell me how evil I am for leaving everyone hanging at the end of this chapter. :) Everyone get ready cause Day 4, it's gonna go DOWN man! We'll see the conclusion for Part One: The Hunting Grounds next chapter. Thanks for all your love and support.