It was getting late, and Mila was getting more and more anxious as time passed. The car had not been far up the road, and they should have made their way back already. Josh, having regained some of his color and energy, had tried to converse with her several times throughout the day, but his efforts were met with laconic, unenthusiastic responses and he had recently given up. The parking lot was still buried under the ever-watchful heavy gaze of Sasha, and her younger companions had joined her near the entrance of the store.

"Where are they?" Mila breathed, a worrisome crinkle in her brow. Sasha squinted as she peered at the woods across the road and swore.

"What is it?" asked Josh twisting around to look out the windows behind him.

"Walkers. That must be the group you saw yesterday!" she said. Her voice was still, but her wide eyes betrayed her anxiety.

"If it is, it's bigger now," his voice rose in a nervous fashion.

Sasha breathed, closing her eyes. "It's okay. We just need to be quiet and still; they don't have to know we're here."

"But what about Daryl and Glenn! What if they come back and run into that crowd? That's got to be forty walkers!" Mila exclaimed as the last of them filtered out of the woods onto the road.

"Shh!" Sasha admonished. "They'll be alright. And hopefully they'll be on that car. No use worrying about that for now. There's nothing we can do but wait. You've got your stuff ready to go, right?"

Mila tugged at the straps of her pack, loosening them with a petulant pout. "Yeah," she said reluctantly.

Ten minutes later, the walkers were still shambling across the empty lot, having made it directly in front of the building, as Sasha, Josh, and Mila cowered behind the windowsills, watching. In the fading light of the afternoon, Mila squinted at the tree line again. From where she sat inside the store, she could make out the dim beams of headlights shining down the road.

"Guys!" she hissed. They all leapt to their feet. The black Challenger turned in to the lot, seemingly unaware of the small hoard around the corner. With a series of indignant moans and riled snarls, the walkers turned to face the lights shining on them.

"That's Zach's car!" yelled Josh. Bits of trash and leaves fluttered and flew in its wake as the car wheeled around quickly in a fishtail to face the road. "Are they leaving us?!" he asked, his voice emblazoned by the threat of abandonment.

"Nope," Sasha answered, swiftly pulling her bag onto her back. "We've got to go!" She paused long enough to let the others swing their packs over their shoulders before erupting through the doors.

The walkers were everywhere; they had already made considerable progress towards the car by the time the three started to make their escape. The smell was ghastly; a stifled gag made its way into Mila's throat as she weaved through the gruesome crowd. Sasha led the way, firing her gun at the dead ones that would block their way; Josh was hot on her heels. Mila ripped her pistol from its holster, cocking it and snapping the safety off as she ran. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as loudly as the shots sounding from the car. Three walkers cut her off from her companions, and, with a fearful gasp, she weaved away from them and fired a two shots, hitting one in the neck and the other in the jaw. She refocused her gaze on the red glow of the taillights that shone from behind the imposing walkers' knees.

She flanked several others, which hissed and lunged as they noticed her. She heard the doors of the car open between shots. Sasha and Josh had made it to the car; now she was the only one left to save. The doors slammed shut with a low thud and the car lurched forwards. She was going to be left behind, just like in the dream! When her hope sank, the tires squealed to a stop, rocking forwards against its own momentum.

"Mila!" she heard Daryl holler, gunfire blaring out of the windows.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" she screamed.

Something snatched her from behind. Pain shot through her collarbones as she was drug, off-balance, backwards from her salvation. She looked over her shoulder in a frenzied panic, a walker had grabbed her backpack by the straps that she had loosened only moments ago and three of its fellows bore down on her not far behind it. She strained against its grip, but it was like iron. Its teeth sunk into the bag as it tried to make a meal out of her. With one last glance behind her towards its rotting face, she slipped her arms out of the straps and bolted towards the car, dodging more of the dead along the way.

The door was already open and Ant reached across the seat and pulled her inside by the wrist in one motion as he slammed the door shut. "Go! Go! Go!" he yelled, rapping the passenger headrest. Daryl floored the gas pedal and the engine roared as they sped away.

Note: Whew, that was close. Nice shootin' there, Mila. ):I You need practice. But seriously, don't be too hard on her. I decided pretty early on not to make her an instant bada$$; I figured it make for a more interesting long-term read if she had some room to grow. I love a story with character development. That's part of the reason I love Daryl in the show so much: he grows as the story goes on. I'm really hoping to hear from you guys. I would appreciate positive or negative reviews, either one has the potential to make this series better. And I see there's been about 18 of you keeping up with this, and you have been fairly silent. . Pick it apart! Let's see what you can tell me! 3):D