At some point in the night they finally stopped moving and sat down to rest. Carol built a small fire for a bit of warmth. After running and sweating all day in the heat they were both chilled by the time the sun went down. They had to keep the fire small to avoid attracting walkers so her and Daryl sat on opposite sides of the flames, close to the heat.
She looked at him, his face lit by the flickering camp fire and her heart sunk. Carol hadn't seen that kind of emptiness in his eyes since they realized the search for Sophia was over. That was the first time he had a purpose - a mission, which ended in tragedy. And here they were again. She knew exactly what Daryl was thinking. He believed the rest were dead. Their entire family – gone.
Neither one of them had spoken a word in hours. They were tired, but couldn't sleep. They were hungry. And they were alone, just the two of them. Carol believed, though they may have lost people they cared about, there was no way that everyone except them had died. She saw Michonne escape captivity in the commotion after Hershel was murdered. Michonne was tough, she was a warrior. Carol believed Michonne had survived. And Rick. He would do anything to protect his family. Carol was sure him and Carl were alive somewhere, hopefully with Judith as well. She had heard the story of how Tyreese was swarmed by walkers and fought his way out. Tyreese was alive too. Carol knew they had family out there somewhere, but how would they find each other again?
She studied Daryl's face. He was staring at the fire, zoned out, lost somewhere in his mind. Carol needed to snap him out of the trance before he sunk too deep into himself for even her to bring him back. "Hey, we should do something, don't you think?" she said, softly at first. "We should do something," she repeated, a little louder. "We aren't the only survivors," Carol added, which finally caught his attention. "You know how strong our friends are. We've made it through so much. This is no different." Daryl continued to look at her so Carol kept talking. "Remember when we were run off the farm? We lost people that night, but others survived. Even Andrea, when we all figured she was dead." She saw his face soften, just slightly, as she triggered memories in him. "We all found each other once. We'll do it again." Carol stood up, "But sitting here moping isn't going to help."
Carol knew that Daryl would feel better once he had a focus. If she could get him tracking, hunting, anything, he would get out of his head, at least for a little while. She pulled her knife out of the sheathe attached to her belt. "Let's go," she said, in a commanding tone that told him she was serious. Carol wasn't sure if she had ever used that tone with him before, but it was effective. Daryl stood and started to kick dirt onto the fire to put it out.
She turned and headed off into the woods, knowing he would be following close behind. They wandered back towards the prison as the sun started to rise, to try to track some of the others. Carol didn't really know what she was looking for, but she kept her eyes peeled for anything that looked out of place. She stopped as Daryl bent down and brushed some leaves away to reveal the mud underneath. There were prints. Small foot prints. Carol looked at him, "Luke maybe? Or Molly?" She knew they could have been Mika's as well, but couldn't bring herself to say her name. They were too small to be Lizzie's, which gave Carol a little comfort, knowing the sisters would likely be together. "Maybe this means they're still alive," she said, trying to be hopeful.
"It means they were alive 4-5 hours ago," Daryl grumbled.
Carol shot him a look, but didn't push. If he needed to be pessimistic right then she would let him, for now. She would deal with his mood later. Daryl continued to look around and he pointed to an area to their right, "They picked up the pace right here. Got out in a hurry. Things went bad."
"Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith," Carol muttered.
She wasn't really talking to him, but he snapped at her in reply. "Hershel had faith, look where he ended up." Carol knew he could have easily picked a different scenario to throw at her. She had spent time in a church and prayed while they were searching for Sophia. At least he had enough concern for her feelings to not hurl that at her too.
Carol spotted a bush with some berries and started to pick them, ignoring him for a minute. When she had a handful she spoke, "they will be hungry when we find them." Daryl sighed, but handed her his handkerchief to wrap the berries in. She knew she was being optimistic, even though her heart told her he was right, at least in this situation. As hard as she had tried to teach the kids about knives and protecting themselves, if those were indeed Molly and Luke's foot prints chances were slim they escaped alone.
Daryl pointed at a bush and spoke. She detected a hint of apology in his words, "That ain't walker blood. The trail keeps going." He took a few steps and looked back at her. Carol saw a hint of sadness in his eyes, which at least meant he felt something, which was comforting. "Got walker tracks all up and down here, at least a dozen of them."
Carol heard a twig snap somewhere behind her. She readjusted the knife in her hand and spun, just as a walker attacked her. Carol shoved the body hard, but the walker came at her again. She twisted, trying to get around his flailing arms and stab his head. The walker was too close for Daryl to shoot. Even though he had deadly aim, it was too big of a risk with the struggle going on. Carol shoved the walker again and when he came at her this time she was ready. Her knife entered his head through the temple, just as Daryl finally made it to her side and grabbed the Walker's arms, holding them out of the way. Blood spurted out as she withdrew the knife. Daryl let go and the body slumped immediately to the ground.
Carol bent and wiped the knife on the ground. She was about to put it away, but thought better of it. There were likely more walkers, best to be ready. Daryl followed the trail he had found and they moved to the edge of the woods, emerging into a clearing where the train tracks came through. Her stomach lurched when she saw the scene before them. There were walkers, several of them, on their knees, munching on the carcasses of bodies on the ground. It was impossible to tell at that point who, or even how many bodies they were ravaging.
They moved closer and Daryl put a bolt through the nearest walker. Carol used her knife on the next one as Daryl shot two more. She sat on her haunches, trying to find air as Daryl retrieved his bolts. Carol saw a tiny shoe on the ground. It was a shoe she recognized. A shoe she had seen every week at Story Time. "Luke," she whispered gently. "You're in a better place sweet boy."
Carol scanned the scene, trying to figure out who the other bodies might be, looking for clues. She couldn't find anything else that might help. She had to assume at least one of the others was Molly - the other set of foot prints they had found. Lizzie was strong, Carol had made sure of that. There was still a chance she was alive. Mika too. When she looked at Daryl's face she knew he didn't believe it, but he didn't even think the strongest survived.
Carol stood. She wanted to pause there for a minute and cry. Just let it all out. But she knew it was pointless. They had to keep going if they had any hopes of finding the others. People could be moving in all directions so they needed to find trails, before they went cold.
They searched for hours and found nothing. Carol wasn't sure if she was happy or disappointed. No news was good news. At least they hadn't found any more bodies. But she knew Daryl was an expert tracker and if any of the others had come through there he would have found evidence.
They came upon an abandoned camp site just off the edge of the road. Carol was exhausted and knew Daryl had to be just as tired, dusk was quickly approaching and they had been awake for well over 30 hours by that point. There was a car parked there and random stuff scattered around. They both remembered what it was like to scavenge and started picking through the goods. Carol opened the car door and peeked inside, looking for anything of value.
Suddenly they heard walkers heading towards them. Carol jumped out of the car and looked off into the distance, she could see the herd. It was huge. Daryl popped open the trunk of the car and motioned. She jumped in and he followed, pulling it closed and using a piece of cord he had found to tie it shut. There was a slight gap and Carol looked out, watching the walkers get closer. They were loud, hungry, agitated. Her heart was pounding, even though she knew they were safe inside the trunk.
Time passed slowly. It was cramped and hot and she had no idea how long it would be before the herd left. Carol knew the walkers could likely smell them and they would stick around a while before finally giving up. It was already dark and they still remained, milling around, grunting, and stumbling.
Daryl nudged her. "Sleep," he whispered. She nodded and tried to adjust her position to get comfortable enough to nod off. After she wriggled around for a few minutes he nudged her again and motioned towards himself. Was he actually offering for her to lean on him and sleep? She stared at him for a minute. As close as they had become over the years they were still pretty inexperienced with physical contact. Carol shifted and tentatively leaned against his chest. After a few minutes she settled, but noticed he didn't seem sure where to put his arm and hand. Carol reached for his hand and set it comfortably on her hip. When he didn't move it right away she smiled and closed her eyes.
Who would have thought she would spend a night snuggled up with Daryl in the trunk of a car? In different circumstances it could have been very romantic. But it wasn't. It was comforting though. And Carol knew they both needed the comfort. Between the exhaustion and the easy up and down of his chest she was fast asleep in minutes.
At some point during the night she woke. Daryl was fast asleep, his head leaning on the top of hers. Carol could still see out the slit and noticed the walkers were gone. She took a deep breath and tried to go back to sleep, not wanting to wake him even though the coast was clear.
Hey Sophia. I know you're with me, I feel you here. We're not going to die, not yet. We're going to survive this. We will find the others. And even if we don't, we have each other. The three of us will survive. Together.