"Hey Possum! C'mon, help me clean dinner. I got a half-dozen squirrels, a rabbit ... and a possum." Damn! Daryl found her.

"Ha ha. Funny." Maybe she could weasel her way out of it. Again. Amanda hated cleaning game, always had, and her uncle knew it. It made her queasy. Merle made her do it anyway and it looked like Daryl was going to make her do it, too. Apparently not even an apocalypse was gonna change that.

"Ain't kiddin', girl. It's your turn. You been dodgin' me for a month."

"No! I haven't ..."

"You gonna stand there and lie to my face?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said resignedly. "But you're gonna do the opossum!"

Daryl chuckled. "Fine. Gimme your knife." He looked at it thoughtfully. "Good, nice and sharp. This the one Merle gave ya?" She nodded even though it was more of a statement than a question. Her daddy gave it to her when she turned ten. The knife was the coolest, most grown-up birthday gift she'd ever received. It was compact and had a beautiful mother-of-pearl inlaid handle. She loved it. Merle taught her how to keep it sharp and how to hide it in various places where no one would see it on her person. "You were so proud of this knife." Her uncle laughed. "Man, I can still see your momma's face when you showed it to her. She lit into Merle somethin' awful. Think someone called the cops." They did. Fortunately, no one, meaning Merle, was hauled off to jail. He agreed to keep the knife "safe" for her until she came back. Amanda didn't talk to her momma for almost two weeks after that. By the time the next summer rolled around, her momma had already forgotten about it so Amanda slipped it into one of those "secret hiding places" and hadn't been without it since.

Daryl handed the blade back, handle first. "'Member how to do this, Possum?"

"Yeah. Sorta. I think so," she said in a little voice. "Maybe."

"Well, get started, then. You're wastin' daylight."

She squinted up at the cloudless sky. The sun was just above the horizon. "It's not even noon, yet, Daryl."

"Quit yapping."

God she hated this. Holding her breath, she poked the squirrel with the tip of the knife and jumped back. Her stomach rolled and breakfast threatened to come back up.

"You gotta be kiddin' me!"

"I can't help it! I just wanted to make sure it was dead. Remember that one time the..." she shuddered, clearly remembering when she brought home an opossum that had been apparently playing dead until she tried to cut it.

"Fuck, Amanda! I shot these. They're dead and they ain't comin' back!"

"Don't yell at me, Uncle Daryl!"

"Don't 'Uncle Daryl' me! Shit, girl! Just clean the fuckin' thing. You got soft...softer. Glad your daddy ain't here to see this."

"Shut up, Daryl! That was just plain mean."

Carl came jogging up. "Hey, Daryl. Hey, Amanda. Judith's asleep. You want some help?"

"Yes!" answered Amanda gratefully.

"No!" yelled Daryl.

"Why do I have to do it if Carl wants to?"

"Cause ya gotta be able to do it when you hafta. You was half-starved when you found us. Now shut up and let's get this done."

"I can help you, Amanda," Carl offered.

"Good luck, kid. You'll be doin' all the work."

She stuck her tongue out at Daryl. "Ain't you growed up, yet?"

"No. Being half-raised by you and Merle set me back a few years."

Carl laughed and grabbed a squirrel. "Just do what I do." She followed Carl's gentle instructions and actually completed the task with only having to run to the bushes once to puke. Carl politely looked away. Daryl called her a big baby.

By the time she and Carl finished their two squirrels, Daryl had cleaned everything else. "You're gonna keep doing this 'til you don't get sick. Ain't gonna be no more hiding. Got it, Possum?"

"You're a bully."

"Brat."

Carl laughed. "Do I have to be the grown-up here? Let's get this meat to the kitchen before they come lookin' for us."

Amanda jogged out to the fence where Rick Grimes was making his daily sweep for any breaches or weak spots. The man had checked it everyday, without fail, since his wife died. Daryl said Rick blamed himself for not killing the prisoner who set all the walkers on them. Even though no one could have foreseen that tragedy, he wouldn't forgive himself for it. Amanda had joined him on several occasions. Sometimes, they talked. Sometimes, they just walked. She discovered she liked his quiet company. "Hey, Rick." she called out and he waited for her to catch up. "Want some company?"

Rick looked back, hand shading his haunted blue eyes. "Sure. I'm almost done."

"I can help, if you want. I mean tomorrow or another day. You know, to give you a break."

He shook his head and ran his hands through his dark hair. "Thanks, but I need to do this, Amanda." He went on ahead, continuing his inspection, ignoring the few walkers that trailed along on the other side of the fence. They walked along in comfortable silence. On beautiful days like this, she could almost pretend the world was normal. Birds were chirping. A gentle breeze lifted a stray curl away from her face. She closed her eyes and raised her face to meet the warm Georgia sun. Yes. Almost normal. Almost. Except for the damned moaning and shuffling of dead people barely ten feet away. Disappointed, she opened her blue eyes to find Rick watching her with a curious smile. Shit! A blush crept up her face. "You okay?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," She nodded. "I guess I'll go see if Beth or Carol needs help."

"What were you thinking?" He wanted to know what put that smile on her face. It was a peaceful smile that was void of worry or pain. A smile someone her age ought to have. The kind he was afraid he'd never see on his own son's face again.

"Nothing."

"I was a cop. I know you're lying." He grinned. "Don't wanna tell me?"

"Nope. It was silly."

He stared at her. His eyes twinkled as his own smile reached them.

"You can't intimidate me. So just stop it," she laughed, unconvincingly.

"Stop what?"

"Trying to make me embarrass myself even more."

"I wouldn't do that." He took a step closer glaring down at her with his best serious cop face.

"Okay! I give up. You were a damn good cop, weren't you? I was trying to pretend everything was normal. Like I said, it was silly."

"Why's that silly?"

She shrugged. "Just wishful thinking. Not like it's going to happen in our lifetime." Oh that was just great, she thought, as the smile faded from his weary face.

Rick frowned and started walking again. "Let me finish up this last section with me and I'll walk back with you."

"I need something else to do here, Rick."

"What do you mean?" he asked, not looking at her. "You take your turn on watch and pick up the slack when the others need help. What else did you have in mind?"

"I could go on supply runs." She crossed her fingers silently hoping he would say yes.

He shook his head. "Don't think Daryl will let that happen." No shit. She had tried to approach the subject with him already. The operative word being "tried." He shut her down as soon as she said supply run. She was beginning to think Daryl was more of a hard ass than her daddy ever was.

"Damn it, Rick. He's my uncle, not my daddy. Besides, I'm fast and I'm a good shot."

"Doesn't matter, Amanda. He feels responsible for you now that you found him. You're all the kin he has left."

"Did you know my daddy?"

Rick sighed heavily. "I met him once." Sooner or later, the subject of Merle was bound to come up in their conversations. He and Daryl had already talked about it. Daryl told him that he saw no reason to tell his niece what had happened with her dad that day on the rooftop in Atlanta. God, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"My daddy doesn't like cops much."

"No. That's true."

"So, I guess ya'll didn't hit it off." She stared at him intently.

"You could say that." That was the mother of all understatements.

"Do you think he's alive?" There was a small hint of hope in her question. He didn't want to be the one to squash it. He was pretty sure the man would have bled out. He should have. If not, he would have been too weak to defend himself. He couldn't see anyone surviving that kind of trauma on their own.

"Daryl thinks so, Amanda, and that's what counts. He knows Merle better than anyone."

"Yeah, he does. I hope he's right."

Rick squeezed her hand and smiled wanly. "I'm gonna check on Judith."

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