Everyone stared at her as she glanced about them nervously. She was about to give up hope anyone would respond so she quickly attempted to formulate a follow up statement, but before she could say anything else a man walked up to her. He was an older looking man with a grayish-white beard, kind eyes and a fishing hat. He took her hand in his, "pleasure to meet you, Evelyn. I'm Dale." Evelyn glanced down at his hand around hers and couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.

"Likewise, Mister Dale."

He smiled back at her in response, "well, you've met Daryl," Evelyn glanced up at the man beside her, but he simply stalked off without a word. Dale led her up closer to the group and began introducing her to all the new faces. The sisters, Andrea and Amy, two pretty blond gals with a subtle age difference between them. Lori, a brown haired, doe eyed woman and her son Carl. Carol and Ed and their daughter Sophia were a small, quiet family. An enthusiastic man named Morales, a black man named T-Dog, and a fidgety fellow named Jim. It was then that her capacity to remember names ran dry. She noticed another man, though, farther off with thick brown hair and an intimidating stare. It wasn't hard to recognize authority and Evelyn quickly made a mental note that he undoubtedly had a significant role in the group.

"That's Shane," Dale informed her. She offered a small smile and a slight wave in his direction, neither of which he returned. "Don't worry about him. C'mon," Dale put a hand on her shoulder and led her up to the heart of the group and offering her a seat at a picnic table that she supposed had been there a long time.

"It's amazing," she mused, "you all seem so…normal."

"Well, we try," was Dale's response. Evelyn watched as the group went about their chores cheerily. As cheerily as one could be at the end of the world, anyways. She spotted Daryl far off on the other side of camp, sitting at a large rock, his back toward her. He wasn't alone though, another man she hadn't seen was sitting across from him as they gutted the squirrels Daryl had brought back. The man had a sarcastic smirk on his face and as he lifted his eyes to meet hers he said something that caused Daryl to point his knife in his direction, to which the stranger simply laughed. "That's Merle, Daryl's brother. Not the nicest man in the world, I'd advise you to just steer clear of him."

Evelyn tore her eyes from the group and picked at the chipped picnic table, "you know, I almost didn't believe him," she confessed. "I've not seen anything like this since the outbreak. All the people I've encountered have been the worst kind…" She shook her head and smiled, "I'm sorry. I've been quiet so long, I'm afraid I've been reduced to a babbling fool."

"All that matters," he told her, "is that you're here now and you can stay here as long as you want."

"Just like that?" she asked, "you'd take in a stranger, just like that?"

"We're all just people trying to survive."

Evelyn looked up as a skinny woman with short hair, that she remembered to be named Carol, came over with something in her hand. She held it out to Evelyn who could then see it was a package of crackers. "Imagine you might be hungry," she offered with a smile.

"Oh, no, thank you, but you don't have to do that, really."

"It's okay," she responded kindly, "we have enough, especially with what Daryl brought back."

"Are you certain?" Carol simply placed the pack in her hand in answer. "Thank you," Evelyn said as gratefully as she could. She felt as if taking the crackers was rather selfish; she hadn't been here long enough to deserve them and she certain didn't have enough time to earn her keep. But she gave some of them to Dale, which made her feel slightly better about the ordeal.

"Everyone here looks as if they have a job to do," she observed.

"Oh yeah, we have quite a nice routine worked out."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Well actually," Dale said, "I was wondering if you'd like to go rest for a while in the RV. You look dead tired, if you'll pardon the expression."

"I look tired?" Evelyn pressed her hands to her face, a face she hadn't seen in weeks and wondered just how bad she did look.

"Like you haven't slept in ages."

"I'm alright, really," she reassured, "I actually slept a few hours just last night and I want to repay you all for your kindness. It'd look terrible if I were to just go nap."

"Tell you what," Dale said, "you go lie down in the RV and we'll give you a job to do when you wake up."

As much as it felt discourteous to her, the more selfish part of her ached to have a chance to shut her eyes somewhere that wasn't a tree, somewhere she didn't have to worry about walkers. "Okay," she caved.

Dale smiled and walked her to the door, "now if you need anything, don't hesitate. I'll be up there," he pointed to the roof. She nodded and thanked him again before going inside. It was pretty well kept and clean, extra blankets, clothes and other items were stacked here or there, even a deck of cards sat waiting on the table. In the back of the RV was a small bed and as she looked upon it, her body suddenly grew very heavy.

There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and as she turned she could help the gasp that escaped her mouth. She waved her hand back and forth to be sure it wasn't any sort of illusion - it wasn't. It was her, but at the same time, it wasn't. How could it be? Her hair was so much thicker now, her pale skin had become almost sickly, black bruises outlined her eyes and her veins were a prominent blue-green color. Hastily, she sat her things in the floor and removed her wool shirt. She was so much thinner. Any fat that had been on her body had practically disappeared, she now appeared so frail, but turning side to side and lifting her shirt she supposed it wasn't that bad. She wasn't boney, but neither had she any muscle. Well, I guess the apocalypse is one way to loose weight, she humored to herself. Evelyn continued to examine herself for a few more minutes, puffing air into her cheeks to make them less hollow, checking the scars she'd received, finding that they were now just puffy pink, irritated strips of flesh. She struck a few more poses before sighing and laying down on the small bed, the sun streaming through the mesh windows warmed her and the voices that flooded through were relaxing. Immediately she took back anything she said about not being tired. Once her head hit the pillow, she lost all strength to lift it back up, falling asleep before even being able to count to ten.

Evelyn awoke with no sense of time, her heart skipping a beat at waking up in an unfamiliar environment, until the memory of where she was flooded back to her. She sat up and stretched before swinging her legs into the floor, slipping her feet back into her boots. After lacing them back up, she stood and stretched again, stopping dead when she didn't see her bow, her quiver, nor her knife or gun from her belt. Her bag was still in the floor and she plucked it up frantically, rummaging around on the inside. Everything was accounted for, except her extra ammunition and her hatchet.

Her anger flaring, she fastened the large bag tightly, securing it over her shoulder and to her back and barged out of the trailer. Glancing around, she saw Daryl off by himself, sitting on a stump and sharpening a knife. Setting her shoulders, she stalked over to him. As she approached, he stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, "what do you want?"

"Where's my stuff?" She demanded,

"What?" he asked.

"My stuff," she repeated, "where is it?"

"The hell you talkin' about?" Daryl asked with budding irritation.

"My bow, my quiver, my gun, my ammo, my hatchet, my knife, all missing."

He stood up, towering over her, "I didn't take your shit, if that's what your after."

Evelyn stared back at him evenly, "I'm not accusing you, I am asking you where it is."

"It's safe," a voice behind her spoke up. She spun and saw Shane, his arms folded across his broad chest. "Listen, we don't know you. We can't afford to be careless. I promise, nothing will happen to it and you'll get it back, eventually. But until then I can't allow you to carry it around camp. And no one is allowed to carry guns."

"But I will get it all back?" Evelyn asked.

"I promise, one way or another, they'll be returned to you, but I can't promise you when," Shane responded pointedly.

"Okay…" Evelyn said, "yeah, okay. I suppose that's fair." She was, after all, in his camp. His camp, his rules, no matter how vulnerable they made her feel.

"Glad we can come to an agreement," he said before he turned and went off to talk to Lori and Carl at the picnic table.

Evelyn turned back to Daryl who sat back on his stump. She sat on a log across from him, wrapping her arms around her knees. "What now?" he asked dryly.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked.

"What, it ain't good enough for ya?" he responded sarcastically.

"No, no, it's wonderful what you have here."

"Then what's it matter?" He didn't look at her as he continued to slide his blade over the sharpening block.

"It matters to me," she bit the inside of her cheek as he stopped his motions and met her gaze.

"You looked scared. And pathetic," was his answer.

Evelyn scowled and tipped her chin up defiantly, "I was not scared," she lied.

"Then you were stupid. In either case you'd probably dead sooner rather than later. So just thank me and get on with it."

"Thank you," she said, locking her green eyes onto his deep blue ones until he broke their contact, going back to his task.

"You're welcome," he grumbled. There was a finality there that told her that was the most she was going to get out of her mysterious savior. With an inward sigh, she got up and headed back in the direction of the RV. Dale was sitting on the roof with a rifle, so she went up to the two blonde sisters Andrea and Amy who were hanging up laundry, Lori was among them also.

They greeted her with smiles, "Hiya Evelyn," Amy said.

"Hello," she responded.

"What can we do ya for?"

"I was told everyone has a job and I was wondering what I could do to help," it came out sounding more like a question then a statement, but they seemed to accept her as genuine.

"What can you do?" Andrea asked.

"Well…" she thought, "I can hunt. And I'm good with plants," they looked at her rather funny, "but I can do anything that you'd like," she added hastily.

"How about you help us hang this up for now?" Lori suggested.

"I can do that," she said, grabbing a shirt and hanging it on the line.

"So, Evelyn, where'd you come from?" Andrea asked.

"About fifty miles past the other side of the city," she responded.

"How old are you?" Amy inquired.

"I'm twenty-one, but my birthday is in October."

Amy gave out a sigh, and Andrea laughed "guess you're still the baby then, Amy."

"By one year. Just one year."

"What'd you do before all of this?" Lori asked as she strung up a pair of pants.

"I was a Librarian. But I also did a little wairtressing. Not the most glamorous professions, but it paid the bills and I enjoyed it."

"What do you mean you're good with plants?" Amy asked.

"My father was a scientist, brilliant man with crazy ideas. He studied physics and…"

"And what," Andrea spoke up when she fell silent.

"And disease," she confessed. "But, I, uh, I was always interested in natural medicine. Herbology, and botany. I'm not a doctor, by any means, but I know a thing or two about using plants. I can make certain remedies, pain killers, soap-"

"Soap?" Lori interrupted. "You can make soap?" The three women looked at her eagerly.

"Yeah," she glanced between them, "I can make soap."

"I think you must be the best contribution Daryl Dixon ever made," Andrea laughed.

"You said you father was a scientist? He studied disease?" Lori focused on her seriously. Evelyn's heart sank. She wished she hadn't mentioned her father. "Did he know anything, did he tell you anything about-" she swept her arm through to air, "this?"

"No, he didn't tell me anything. I don't know even know if he did know anything." Evelyn stared at the piece of laundry in her hands without really seeing it, "he was in Atlanta…" she didn't have to explain further before Lori put a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving a small condolence. The mood had been effectively ruined.

"You should talk to Shane," Evelyn looked up at Andrea. "The Dixon brothers are the ones that usually go hunting. You could go with them to get your plants and things and you could make a stock of medicine, couldn't you?"

"And soap," Amy added.

"You really have to understand, I'm not a doctor, I've had no professional training. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

"I still think it would be a good idea to do what you can. We don't have a lot of medicine for anything and it's better to have something than nothing at all," Andrea pointed out.

"I agree," Amy chimed.

"I don't think it sounds like such a bad idea," Lori added.

Evelyn nodded, "okay, I'll do what I can." They continued on with their task in relative silence. Something was fluttering in the back of her mind the whole time, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It didn't really click until she looked up, by the position of the sun, it was around noon. But, she had arrived at the camp with Daryl around the same time. Which didn't make sense, unless… "How long was I asleep?" she asked, breaking the quiet.

"You slept through all of yesterday," they confirmed. She hadn't meant to sleep so long. She hadn't even realized it, but the weeks of running through the woods, sleeping in trees must have just been catching up to her. The idea of a restful sleep from here on out made her happy. Yet, she couldn't suppress the memories of her father that kept flooding her mind after her mention of him. Evelyn could still remember so clearly the last time that they had spoken. It had been more than just her gut that told her to stay away from Atlanta. She recalled how he had told her to bar all her windows, all her doors, to get whatever she could together in order to make a quick break for it, but to stay inside for as long as she could. He told her how much he loved her, how proud her mother would have been.

"Shoot straight, baby girl," he had told her, "just like I taught you. And for God's sake, don't miss." That was the last time she'd heard her father's voice. He was cut off and never called back. That night was the night they dropped napalm in the streets of Atlanta, Georgia. The night that all structure had shattered beyond repair. There was nothing then, that anyone could do, except to shoot straight and pray they didn't miss.