Chapter 4

Authors Notes: The first few chapters were the introductions of our characters. The first chapters, especially the last chapter, were short. The last chapter wasn't great (sorry), but it was just to introduce Norman and Sean. Hopefully the chapters will begin to get longer (like this one). Thanks to all that are still reading. Remember to leave a comment to let me know how I'm doing so far.

Back story: The idea is that Connor and Murphy's camp is set up in a clearing at the top of a mountain/hill/thing and is very close to where the river ends. Daryl and Merle are walking up one side of the river and Sean and Norman the other. None of them know that the others exist and they all believe themselves to be alone in the woods.

Now let's see what happens when they meet…

Connor and Murphy crawled out from their shared tent late the next morning. After having a very restless sleep, waking up often and jumping at even the smallest noises around their campsite, they decided they were obviously not going to get anymore sleep.

Now they reluctantly exited their tent and walked sluggishly over to the twin folding chairs placed around their fire. The sun was hanging high, it was around noon, and they both raised a hand to shield their eyes from the bright rays as they sat down. Connor leaned in front of his chair and grabbed a lighter, opening another package of cigarettes as he did. He lit the fire and a cigarette for himself, before handing the items over to his brother.

"Jesus. It's late," Murphy noticed as he took the box gratefully and placed a single stick between his lips, lighting it, and taking a long, slow drag. "Do ye know what I miss," he asked as a way of making conversation. Letting the smoke he had just inhaled pour lazily from his mouth as he spoke.

Connor grunted lowly in reply, not completely listening to his brother as he continued to rifle through his bag currently propped up against his left leg. Lately they had earned all of their meals by hunting, trying to save up their rations. But Connor thought it best to go ahead and dip into what little was left of their savings. He knew they were both far too tired to hunt on this day.

"Coffee," Murphy declared.

Connor gave a chuckle. "I thought ye were goin' to say beer," he commented, talking through his own mouth full of smoke.

"Well that too. God, what I wouldn't give for a tall glass of Guiness. But no, right now I need coffee," Murphy replied, sending a smoke ring to float out in front of him.

"Why, are you tired…?" Crack!

Connor stopped his teasing short when he heard the sound of a twig snap beneath a pair of feet from behind them. Silence followed for a few short seconds before two sets of feet could be heard moving heavily over leaves. The sound was close and drawing closer, only a few meters away, slowly but confidently, moving in the direction of the brother's camp. Connor jumped to his feet and turned to face the trees that were hiding the nearby intruders. He quickly lifting a gun from its holster that was hanging limply on the left side of his chair, and raised it level to his face, ready for the mystery figures to make themselves known. Murphy stood beside him, perfectly mirroring his stance, ready to fire. They waited for a minute, two, and then two large figures stepped out of the woods and into the bright light.

XXXXXXXXXX

Opening his eyes early the next morning, Daryl pushed his body off the ground where he had slept before the sun had become level with the trees that covered the mountainous terrain around him. He looked over to his still chainsaw snoring brother and decided that it was best not to wake him. Instead he picked up his crossbow and slung it across his back. He turned and started maneuvering through tree trunks, following the sound of running water not three minutes from where the brothers had rested the night before. For a few minutes he just remained still by the water's edge, watching the clear liquid move calmly, running around and over rocks. The water continued downstream in the same direction the brothers came from after leaving the ruined camp. He splashed the cool water in his face to wake himself completely and continued to sit, listening to the water, enjoying the nice quiet morning.

When the first rays of sun finally started to show about ten minutes later, Daryl decided to head back before his brother became conscious and came looking for him. When he returned, Merle was waiting for him, leaning against a tree with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to move on. Daryl grabbed his own bag off the ground without saying a word and the two fell into step beside each other, automatically and subconsciously matching the same pace. They walked in silence for twenty minutes before Daryl decided to break it.

"So, what's the plan?"

"There ain't one. Not right now anyway," Merle replied simply.

"So we're just walking in a random direction? Just keep moving forward," Daryl asked, looking sideways at his older brother.

"For now. Maybe go down to the end of the river. There's food, water. Might as well go at least that far and put some space between us and that camp, right?"

"Right," Daryl answered. Silence encompassed them once more and the brothers continued to walk in silence.

Less than an hour later and the two came upon the end of the river, only stopping to rest long enough for Daryl to get comfortable by its edge before Merle declared that they would continue to move. Becoming bored at the prospect of having nothing to do and deciding to walk on. And walk on they did, soon moving gradually up hill. Now the sun was sitting high in the sky and it was noon. Daryl looked down at the rope of squirrels he had hanging off his left shoulder. He was able to shoot half a dozen, hardly making an effort to look for a target as he walked throughout the day, and trying even less when it came to picking them off and gathering them from the forest floor once they unwillingly left their trees. Now his prizes were hitting his upper thigh with every step he took and he was going to suggest that he and his brother stop to eat when Merle threw his right hand out in front of Daryl to stop his younger brother from walking. Daryl wondered shortly what had caused his brother to tense before he heard a faint noise coming from less than a dozen meters ahead of them. Merle looked to Daryl and nodded. Daryl wasn't sure what he was planning to do, but he knew the look. He readied his weapon and began to walk silently alongside his brother. As they grew closer, they realized that what they had heard was the voices of at least two grown men talking and they began to make out their conversation.

"…Right now I need coffee," a voice stated.

"Why are you tired…" a second voice started to say, but was stopped short, because at that moment Daryl stepped on a large twig that snapped in two under his weight. In the stillness of the morning woods the crack of the small branch was amplified and absolute silence followed. Merle turned his head to look over his shoulder at his younger brother and looked as if he could strangle him. He waited a short moment, straightened up, and continues pacing forward, no longer caring if he made any noise. Daryl followed suit.

Daryl took a deep breath as he and Merle walked out into the clearing, bright sunlight highlighting their forms with weapons raised level to their eyes. Neither knew what to expect, but what the two found were two fully grown men of similar height, dressed identically in torn jeans, black t-shirts with brown beaded necklaces hanging into them, and ragged tennis shoes. They each held a hand gun (silencers attached at the ends) in opposite hands, each had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and matching bright blue eyes. They had to be related, twins maybe, but not identical. One was blond and the other brunette and their faces looked very different. Or they probably did, when they weren't wearing identical glares on their faces that promised death if either Dixon made a move either of them didn't like as they looked toward the pair of men that had entered their camp uninvited.

Connor and Murphy stood mere meters away from the Dixons, guns drawn, threatening to pull the trigger. But neither made a move to. They quickly looked to each other then back to the intruders and started to size them up as the Dixons had done to them.

What the McManus brothers witnessed step out of the woods were two fully grown rednecks. They were probably brothers since they had similar blue eyes and identical posture. There was an obvious age difference between them, maybe seven or eight years. One held a simple hand gun and carried a small pocket knife just visible in his jean pocket. The other held a crossbow, had a large buck knife strapped to his hip, and had a rope hanging from his left shoulder with squirrels tied to it by their tails. They were covered in both dirt and blood, from skinning their hunts, killing walkers, or killing other people the McManus brothers could not determine. And yet the two rugged intruders looked perfectly at home in their current state of being, like they belonged in the woods. The Irishmen would have laughed at the almost extreme stereotypical appearance of the men's' forms if it wasn't for the looks they were getting from said intruders.

The two pairs of brothers remained perfectly still for three long minutes, studying each other, and waiting for someone to make a move that would start something far more violent. And when no one did, Murphy quickly began to feel uneasy and shifted subconsciously on his feet at the same time Daryl turned his head to clear his throat audibly, hoping to break the tension. Connor turned to look at Daryl while Merle turned to look at Murphy. Something clicked at that moment in all their heads as they all looked between the two men in shock and when Merle and Connor made eye contact it was all over. They traded honest smirks than each turned towards their younger sibling with a smile. Someone had to comment on it.

Connor immediately dropped his arm and started twisting his hand, hitting the gun against his upper thigh as if he were thinking. "Say Murph, are there any more copies of ye running around out here that I should know about," Connor asked with as serious of a tone as he could use with a question like that.

With that the spell of still and silence was broken. Murphy dropped his right arm which had been holding his gun and all but fell to the ground laughing. The McManus brothers continued to laugh hysterically and Daryl pulled a frown. He turned to his brother to suggest they sneak off while the idiots where busy falling over themselves and was surprised to find that his brother was laughing as well. It started as a light chuckle, but as he watched the Irish brothers falling over each other, still looking between Murphy and Daryl and making jokes, it became a deep, open laugh. Daryl just rolled his eyes and stood in place, completely uninterested, shouldering his crossbow and waiting for the twins and his brother to stop laughing. 'So what I looked somewhat like the young Irishman. Is it really cause to have a mental break down when seconds ago we were pointing weapons at each other's head's', Daryl thought silently.

When he caught his breath a few moments later Merle turned to Daryl with an honest grin.

"Cheer up son. It looks like I found ya a new play mate," Merle said, slapping a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Ye got to admit, we look a lot alike," Murphy added, finally through laughing.

"Nah man, I don't see it," Daryl said as he rolled his eyes and shrugged off Merle's hand.

"No, o' course not. Yer right. Nothin' similar t'all," Connor laughed, still trying to recover.

"Not unless ye count the similar eyes and hair," Murphy teased, still smiling.

"Or the height," Merle pointed out, just to spite his brother.

"Ye even have the same mark," Connor realized as he continued to look between the two faces. It was true; each had a small mole on the upper left side of their mouths. If it wasn't for the fact that there was at least a five year difference between Daryl and Murphy you would have thought that they were twins.

"Well yeah, but I mean other than that," Daryl caved, deciding it would end the conversation sooner.

After that ice breaker Connor and Murphy turned to put away their weapons and sat back down on their chairs. The Dixons slowly walked around to the other side of the fire to face the Irishmen, slightly confused. The McManus brothers had apparently decided the strangers were no threat at all while the Dixons still hadn't quite decided. Murphy noticed this and decided to change that.

"What's yer story," he asked, looking between the brothers.

"What."

"Who are ye, what are ye doin' out here," Connor asked, taking his brother's lead in starting a conversation. There was a beat of silence where Connor decided to continue sifting through the bag pulled up next to his chair. Murphy was right, they were out of beans. They were actually almost completely out of food and all that left was a bag of beef jerky and some crackers. Glancing towards the younger of the two, Connor was reminded of the squirrels he carried, but decided to wait and see how their current situation was going to play out.

"Who wants to know," Merle replied, watching Connor carefully as he looked through his bag.

"Oh sorry, where am me manners?"

"Ma would be ashamed," Connor remarked, smiling sadly.

Murphy smiled back reassuringly, then replied, "I'm Murphy, the ugly one over there is me Brother, Connor," Murphy stated with a smirk plastered across his face.

Connor ignored his younger brother and straightened up waiting for their 'attackers' to introduce themselves.

"Connor and Murphy huh," Daryl repeated.

"Aye."

"Daryl, the thick one is Merle," Daryl answered with only a hint of a smile. Merle looked over at his brother, whispering, "The hell is that supposed to mean."

"I think he…" Murphy started with a grin, but was shushed by Connor.

"What was that clover," Merle asked, slightly annoyed.

"The hell did ye call me," Murphy snapped back.

"Let it go man, we're just talkin'," Daryl stepped in trying to keep his brother from starting a fight.

"No, I want to know what he was going to say."

"Guess he meant thick as in daft too," Murphy sort of whispered to his brother as he tried to suppress a laugh, receiving a disappointed look from Connor. Merle still heard him.

"The fuck you call me," Merle shot at Murphy, his voice rising to almost a yell.

"Relax bro, I started it."

"It's one thing for you to," Merle stated, annoyed.

"Murphy had no right," Connor cut in as he glared at his younger half.

"Why the hell are ye defending him," Murphy yelled at his brother, now getting to his feet. Connor stood beside him.

"Better listen to mommy, clover," Merle snickered.

"Drop it Merle," Daryl warned again, preparing to move between the Irishman and his older brother. 'Why can't Merle just have a normal conversation with anyone?' Daryl thought quietly to himself.

"The fuck ye say to me," Murphy turned to now yell at Merle.

"Alright let's all just calm the fuck down," Connor yelled over the gradually growing noise.

XXXXXXXXX

Norman woke up the next morning to a bright yellow ray of sunlight coming through the leaves of a tree towering over him to his right. It was midmorning, maybe nine when he finally accepted that he was to be conscious. Of course what light was showing would find his face and wake him up. Norman cursed softly. He sat up a little straighter and stretched his arms high over his head, servicing the immediate area around him. 'Well at least we survived the night' Norman thought to himself. Then his eyes landed on Sean's still form.

Sean had at some point during the night stolen the blanket and had it tucked up to his chin. He was still asleep, his face shadowed in the shade of his own tree, snoring softly. Norman carefully unhooked their ankles then kicked Sean's foot in an effort to wake him.

He groaned loudly and covered his face with the blanket, whining, "Maaaa, five more minutes."

Norman laughed lightly, kicking him again.

"What the hell Norm?"

"Get up. I thought we were going to keep moving today," Norman replied.

"Ya couldn't wait five minutes," Sean asked annoyed.

"Stop being lazy and get up," Norman replied as he stood up himself, shifting back and forth on his feet. "Normally you have to say that to me. Now come on, where are we heading?"

"I was thinkin' we could walk down to the end of the river or maybe, if we're lucky, find a clearing at the top of one of these mountains," Sean suggested with a shrug of his shoulders as he handed Norman the blanket. "I'm not really sure yet. Let's just start walkin' and see what we can find I guess."

Norman nodded in agreement as he rolled up the blanket, handing it to Sean after he stood, and watched him pack it. Then they started walking up the side of the river, talking freely.

Not an hour later and they had passed the end of the river. Norman had suggested they stop to fish and eat, but Sean wanted to keep moving in the hopes of finding a clearing on higher ground. It wasn't long after that when they were again walking on more level ground, close to the top of one of the many hills covering this area of the Georgia landscape. Norman looked over to Sean to say something, but stopped short when he thought he heard a noise just ahead of them.

"Sean do you hear that," Norman asked.

"Yeah, I hear it," Sean replied. And with that Sean kept walking towards the peculiar sound, Norman following closely behind him. Curiosity had taken old of them.

As they got closer they realized the sound had actually been not one, but multiple voices having a discussion. Another ten feet and they discovered the voices were in fact yelling. As they approached the edge of the tree line (which appeared to be leading into a clearing as they had originally hoped for) it sounded as if they were walking into the middle of a drunken bar fight, and could now understand what all the separate voices were saying.

"Drop it Merle."

"The fuck ye say to me?"

"Alright let's all just calm the fuck down."

"Don't tell me to calm down."

At that moment, Norman and Sean decided to enter the clearing, guns now raised.

In a total of twenty seconds the group of men arguing ceased their arguing in favor of protecting themselves from a new threat. In the same moment the men turned and raised their weapons (Connor and Murphy pulling theirs from the holsters on their chairs) to their attackers. Silence fell over the mountain once more. No one moved, no one spoke, no one hardly dared to breathe. The two groups stood maybe a few meters from each other in silence, all studying each other, only this time it took the now sizable group a mere fifteen seconds before they realized...

"What the…."

"How…."

"Fuck," Daryl and Murphy whispered in the same breath. They glared at each other for a moment before turning refocusing their attention to the newest additions to the McManus' camp grounds.

The original group of four stood in place, staring at almost exact replicas of both Murphy and Daryl and of Connor.

After a moment's pause, "I think I had a nightmare like this once," Sean began, trying to make a joke. "The last thing the world needed was three of you runnin' around, huh," Sean said looking over to Norman.

Norman didn't answer; he seemed to be in shock looking across to the center of the camp at his two newly found clones.

"Like one of ye wasn't bad enough," Murphy directed the comment at his brother, catching Sean's attention. He looked back at the group of men in front of him and locked eyes similar to his own, finding he had a look alike too.

"This is insane," Daryl threw in, and Merle simply nodded vaguely. Daryl continued, asking, for if nothing else to fill the loud silence between the groups when anyone stopped talking, "What the hell are the odds of this?"

A few more seconds passed in silence and now it was just becoming uncomfortable. Connor decided to be the mature one, 'What could go wrong,' he thought, and lowered his gun. And Sean decided the same and lowered his in the same moment. They meet each other's gaze once more then each gave a curt nod of understanding. Then they waited to see what the others would decide for themselves. 'Hopefully we can all get along' Sean thought to himself.

One by one everyone else slowly lowered their weapons, the McManus brothers holstering theirs on their chairs. The group slowly inched closer together, testing the waters. They now formed one group, occasionally making eye contact as they glanced around the circle at each other.

Murphy was again the one to jump start the conversation. "So…what's yer story," he asked, looking between the two new members of the newly formed group. This seemed to catch everyone's attention, an easy enough question to focus on. So now they all looked to Norman and Sean, waiting for them to speak.

Sean looked over to Norman; only slightly worried for his friend. He hoped Norman would answer the question since he hadn't said anything since they came to the clearing and met the group.

Norman knew this and panicked, "Who wants to know," is all he could offer.

Murphy went through the line, "I'm Murphy, me brother Connor," Connor offered a smile as a hello. "That's Daryl and his brother Merle," at least Daryl nodded. Merle was still wary of the whole group and stood like a statue watching everything play out as it was going to in front of him.

"I'm Norman and that's Sean," Norman answered, now recovered. "Hey," Sean greeted politely. "We were just kind of walking around in the cities for the first couple of weeks of this, you know, looking for somewhere to set up more permanently," Norman continued, gesturing in front of himself. "We came to Georgia for work for a few days and kind of got stuck out here when all this stuff happened. We've just kept moving, ended up coming out here after deciding that the cities were becoming too over run. We were hoping it would be somewhat safer."

"Thought it might be better out here. At least be more food, right," Sean added at the end, wanting to help explain.

"Same here," Daryl stated simply. He looked to his brother waiting for him to comment, but he just stood there and continued to look on. Daryl turned back to the group, expecting the Irishmen to take a turn in explaining why they were there. Now everyone was just trying to decide where to go with the situation after the introductions ended.

"This is our camp; we've been set up out here since the beginning. Came down from Boston for a piece of work and got stuck out here when the world went to hell," Murphy began to explain. This was partly true.

When word first started about the 'apocalypse' it was just rumors in the Northern parts of the world, strange stories from the news. No one knew what to believe. The first encounter the twins had with any zombies was on the night before they came to Georgia. They were walking home late at night from the local bar completely plastered when two came staggering out of an alley that led out of town. The boys had thought they were simple other drunkards as well, until they attacked. Without their guns and being in no condition to fight Connor and Murphy ran to the safety of their fifth story apartment a block away. They now knew the strange stories were true and had no way of handling this new development except to hope it would pass. They were relieved that the very next morning Agent Smecker had an assignment for them that would involve them going down to Georgia. They jumped at the chance to get out of town for a few days and hoped that by the time they returned that things would be back to normal. After they got to Georgia the worst of what was going to happen, hit. It was the end of the world and the brothers grabbed what supplies they needed or could find and ran to the woods, in the hopes that it would be safer. They went back to the city only once three weeks ago to restock their supplies. They had barely made it back with partially refilled bags and their lives.

"We grabbed what supplies we could from the city and haven't been back since. No need really we've been doin' fine out here," Connor finished.

"What kind of work were you here for," Merle asked, simply curious.

"Ancient history," was the only answer Connor gave.

"Come on, what is it going to hurt," Norman pushed.

The brothers looked at each other for a second. "Our job was to keep people on the right track and to correct them when they strayed from it," Connor hinted.

"Priests," Daryl asked, looking at the hidden necklace in the brother's shirts and simply venturing a guess.

"No. God no, nothing that simply, or well," Murphy interjected, shifting subconsciously on his feet.

"So what, did you work with the police or something," Norman asked, just trying to get a straight forward answer.

"Well not really, although we did work with them often," Murphy unhelpfully supplied with a knowing smile.

Sean decided to cut in since they obviously weren't going to get a real answer. After a slight pause he asked, "So now what?" He didn't ask anyone in particular, but he had hoped someone would give an answer.

No one did and the group fell into another awkward silence. But not a minute later and Connor and Murphy had the same idea; deciding there was no longer any danger, they turned on their heels and walked back to their chairs.

As he sat down Connor looked over at Daryl, "Ye going ta share?"

Daryl followed the blue eyed gaze that had settled on the long forgot rope of squirrels hanging off his shoulder and suddenly remembered he was hungry. He looked up to see that now the whole group looking down at the squirrels longingly, apparently remembering themselves. Six squirrels, six guys, all hungry. 'Hell, why not?' Daryl thought to himself. Then he walked to face opposite of Connor from across the unlit fire and threw him the rope of squirrels, then sat down were he stood. Connor caught it easily with a grin and the twins set to work preparing a late lunch for the newly formed group. The rest eventually came and sat down around the now lit fire waiting to be fed. Slowly they all began to relax, at least to an extent.

Not twenty minutes later and all six squirrels were hanging over the fire cooking.

No one had really talked much (nothing to talk about) and so they had all just sat in a comfortable silence waiting for food, slowly getting use to each other's presence.

Five minutes later and Murphy decided enough was enough. 'Healthy or not, I'm starving', and he reached over to grab his squirrel. This set off a chain reaction and not a minute later they were all happily eating what little meat they had, happy to have any. Connor at some point threw the jerky and crackers into the center of their circle and everyone grabbed their own water.

Now that they were being fed and a little less tense Murphy decided yet again to try and start a conversation. Compared to the other men sitting at the fire, besides perhaps his brother depending on his mood, he was practically a social butterfly. Besides, the silence was driving him mad. But of course before he was able to say anything the group was interrupted once more.

About thirty feet away, across the length of the camp, the sound of bushes rustling from something stronger than the average breeze that was currently circulating through the woods was heard.

"I swear if one of them doesn't look like you I'ma be pissed," Daryl groaned looking to Merle as he merely turned on the spot where he was sitting to look behind him. The rest of the group did the same and, looking across the camp past the Irish twins' tent, they waited for the disturbance to become visible.

The 'intruder' turned out to be a walker stumbling nosily into the clearing. Everyone instinctively tensed upon the sight, their hands itching to grab their weapon of choice, watching nervously as it drew closer.

Everyone except Murphy. "Relax, I've got it," he said, grabbing a throwing knife out of the side of his bag and with an almost lazy flick of his wrist it landed deep in the walker's right eye. The impact caused the geek to fall backwards from thirty feet away.

"Nice one there Murph," Connor praised as he walked over to retrieve his knife with eyes following him around the camp. He pulled out his knife, straightened up, and took a bow towards his on looking audience before rejoining them.

"Not bad clover," Merle mused and he actually meant it as a complement.

"Thanks Red," Murphy said with a wink and sat back down. The remark didn't go on noticed by Merle or his brother, but Merle graciously let it go, a small smile pulling at the sides of his lips.

And just as Murphy sat back in his seat, just as a conversation began to arise, another walker stumbled into camp. Taking no notice to its fallen brother it had been closely following, but simply ghosting over its body and reaching out towards the still breathing forms resting in front of it. Daryl was first to react this time. He fired a bolt from his crossbow and walked to the edge of the tree line to retrieve it.

Leaning down to remove his arrow, Daryl stopped abruptly, his blood running cold. As he raised his head to scout ahead of himself he locked eyes with what his well-trained ears had picked out. After leaving the conversation of the group and closing the distance between himself and the ever growing commotion gradually streaming up the side of the over grown hill, Daryl could now hear dozens of pairs of feet and the occasional low groaning of corpses floating towards him through the trees. From his position he could see at least a dozen walkers shuffling through the trees as they moved closer to the camp. "Shit."

Daryl stumbled back into the clearing and reloaded his crossbow. "Merle," he shouted out of instinct to warn his older brother. "Connor, guys," he called to warn his newly formed group.

"What do you see," Merle answered his younger brother, standing and pulling his gun.

"Walkers," Daryl shouted, backing up to see that there were far more than twelve ash colored bodies creeping towards him.

"How many," Sean questioned, standing and giving Norman a hand up.

"Too many to deal with," Daryl replied as he continued his back pedal to where the group was standing as walkers started to pour into the clearing. "It's like a herd of 'em. We have to go. Grab what you can," Daryl instructed as he shot a walker that was beginning to get too close to him. Connor covered him and shot two more, then everyone scrambled for their bags. Now the clearing was flooding with walkers, all stumbling forward and grabbing at the men in front of them. Norman and Sean both got a shot off from behind Merle, but ended up turning first and leading the group down the hill. They were moving as fast as they could, firing shots behind them and putting a few more walkers down. When they got to the bottom they took off at a dead run trying to put as much space as they could between them and the herd. Half the herd was still coming down the hill, the rest now following after the group, some rather quickly but the undead bodies still couldn't quit keep up. And to make things worse the noise the group had made from unloading their weapons into their enemy was bringing strays from the sides after them as well. So the group continued to run, only stopping once for a few short minutes to catch their breath. They reached the opposite end of the river from where it ended at the bottom of the hill they'd come off of. Once there they all collapsed by the side of the river panting and splashing water in their faces. For now there was enough space between them and the herd that they could stop and rest. After a few minutes of recovery and remembering how to breathe Murphy was the first to speak.

"Well what the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"We rest a few minutes and we keep moving. We need to get out of these woods as quickly as we can," Connor replied as if it were an obvious answer. "That herd is just going ta keep on comin'. Best we continue to move as well. It's time to move on."

"What?"

"Right, its best we keep movin'," Sean agreed.

"Where are we going to go?" Norman asked.

"Look Leprechaun's right we can't stay out here any longer. They'll catch up to us eventually and we need to keep moving so we can hunker down before night fall," Merle put in, backing Connor up.

"We can't go to Atlanta, it's over run," Daryl said just stating a fact and dismissing the option.

"Daryl's right it's not safe in the cities and we don't have a car. We try to hole up in Atlanta and we'll get stuck. If we try to walk past it on foot we'll be stuck out in the open after dark," Norman explained, hoping shed some light so neither option would be tested.

"Got a better idea," Merle asked, completely open for suggestions because soon they would have to decide. None of the men knew when the decision had been made, but it was a clear and simple fact now that they actually were a group and they weren't splitting up. So they had to come to a decision, fast.

"Come on Norm, its best if we just keep movin'," Sean tried to both reason and reassure his best friend, hoping he would agree.

Eventually the group mutually decided that it was best to travel on to someplace else. Taking a final drink from the river, each securing their bags on their shoulders, they started walking in the general direction of Atlanta. It was around three in the afternoon and they had a long walk back to city. Plenty of time to figure out what exactly they were going to do before night fall.