Judge, Jury, Executioner

Daryl had just returned from his unsavory interrogation of Randall. He was disclosing to the rest of the group what he had found out, and it was quickly decided that Randall would need to be eliminated. Dale balked at this, but Felicia was silent. Despite the fact that she was completely against killing the prisoner, there were other things on her mind.

The day went by (mostly) uneventfully. Dale tracked her down when she was eating lunch near her tent, and she knew what was coming before the words left his mouth. "This is about Randall, right?" she said after swallowing a mouthful of tuna sandwich.

Dale nodded. "You know this isn't right," he told her.

Felicia exhaled, looking up at him. "I may not agree with it, but I don't think that matters."

"Of course it matters!" protested Dale. "You have a voice in this group. If enough people think this is wrong, we don't have to kill that kid!"

"Look," Felicia said, "even if I tell them that, that's… what? Two of us? Versus how many? Everyone else, I bet. I don't think those are very good odds."

Dale shook his head. "That doesn't matter. If you stand up for what's right, others will, too. I won't let us lose our humanity along with everything else. I need your help, here."

Felicia rose, already decided. "All right," she said, standing up and brushing bread crumbs off her legs. Teeth, who had been asleep next to her, woke up and left to pee. "If you ask me to back you up, I will. But I've got a bad feeling about how this is gonna play out."

Dale, seeming satisfied by her response, thanked her and left to continue petitioning the other group members.

Ingrid was standing in the corner of the room as Dale made his argument to the group in favor of sparing Randall. Felicia had already piped up in his defense, and so had Andrea. Ingrid wanted to, but didn't want the group giving her the looks they had given the other two. She was watching the other survivors wearily, eyes flicking back and forth between Dale and Daryl, who was looking disinterested (that said, she wasn't sure what "interested" looked like on Daryl). Finally, clearing her throat, she took a step forward and mumbled, "Dale's right. We should… We… Let's not kill that kid."

The others remained silent, but she saw the gratitude on Dale's face as he continued with his pleading. The four protestors, however, were not enough to sway the consensus, and Dale stormed out when he realized that Randall would still die.

Felicia felt tears streaming down her face yet another time as she watched Dale, horrified. The Walker who had attacked him had been dispatched, but that didn't mean a thing. Dale was dying. There was a cluster of people around the older man, all of them in shock as he fought vainly for his life. She felt numb with grief. But there was nothing any of them could do.

Daryl freed his hand from Ingrid's crushing grip and stood over Dale before doing what had to be done.