While those at the ASZ get encouraging news, the rescue of the prisoners held by the Wolves continues.

Warning:Character death.

El Dia de los Muertos

"They found them!" Carl came running in to the house, followed by an excited Sam, startling Carol and Claire who were just getting ready to help Felicia up from the couch.

"What?" Carol said, turning to look at Carl, who seemed ready to jump out of his skin with happiness.

"We just got a message from Michonne." Carl said, wheezing. He must've run all the way from Deanna's house.

"They tracked them to a town north of here about fifty miles." Sam filled in the rest while Carl bent over trying to catch his breath.

"They have them back? Daryl?" Carol asked, her voice tight with worry. Watching Rick and the others head out to find him without her had just about made her punch her fist through the wall in frustration. She hated this feeling of helplessness and forced inaction.

"They were making their move tonight—going in to find them." Carl told them, standing up, red cheeked. "She'll check in again when they're on their way home."

Carol sat down on the couch next to Felicia who took her hand. Claire left the room briefly and came back with a glass of water which she handed to Carl who accepted it gratefully. To Sam she gave a cookie and he beamed.

"So they haven't actually even seen any of them." Carol said, disappointment muting her voice, "It's just the tracking chip."

"Carol—this is a good thing—can't you see that? If the chip is there, then Deanna's there. Wouldn't they take her and Dr. Yang to where Daryl and Aaron are?"Claire said reasonably.

"My dad and Michonne will bring him back, Carol; you know they will." Carl said.

"All I know is that they're all in danger now." Carol said flatly.

"Then we need to ask the angels of those who have gone before to watch over them all until they're safely home." Felicia said, taking both of Carol's hands in hers.

Carol frowned at her.

"El Dia de los Muertos—the Day of the Dead. In Mexico, where my abuela—my grandmother—was from, they had a tradition at the end of October: los angelitos, the angels of the little ones who have passed, are honored. People build ofrendas—small altars—to the dead and put out food and things they loved in life to encourage visits by the souls, so the souls will hear the prayers of the living." Felicia explained.

"Los angelitos..." Carol nodded slowly. They all had so many dead now...it was a comforting thought that you could somehow harness their power, their essences to help the living... She looked to Carl who gave her a bittersweet smile. There were so few of them now who even remembered her angelitas, Sophia...Mika...Lizzie... It would be nice to believe they were with Daryl now, watching over him and his rescuers...

"I need to get back. I'll come tell you as soon as we know more." Carl promised. He looked at Sam expectantly but the boy looked torn between going with him and staying with Carol.

"How would you like to stay and help us make an ofrenda, Sam?" Felicia asked.

"You think it would help bring them back?" Sam asked skeptically, coming to stand in front of her and Carol.

Claire motioned to Carl that he could leave and the older boy smiled and gave them a little wave before he headed back out.

"It can't hurt now, can it?" Felicia smiled. "If we can talk Olivia out of some sugar, maybe we can make calaveras."

"What's that?" Sam asked, frowning.

"They're little skulls, made out of sugar." Felicia explained. "You put them on the altar."

"Is that what the dead kids have for candy?" Sam asked, wide eyed with the morbid interest of all little boys. "Cool."

Felicia and Claire laughed and even Carol smiled a little through her worry, but it felt a bit like whistling in a graveyard.

"You really think it's our people out there?" Aaron asked Daryl as the sounds of gunfire continued outside, muted by the thick stone walls of the Courthouse foundation.

"Told you about Terminus, didn't I?" Daryl rasped and then chuckled until he coughed weakly, holding his ribs and gritting his teeth in pain.

"Carol single-handedly swooping in and thrashing the cannibals? Still not sure you weren't jerking my chain with that one." Aaron mused, frowning at Daryl.

"Carol did what?" Erin asked, leaning in to check that Daryl hadn't started his nose bleeding again with the coughing bout. He shied back, avoiding her, about done with being poked and prodded.

"You haven't heard this one yet? Go ahead, partner." Aaron said with an encouraging grin.

"We got caught in a trap, all of us but Carol n' Tyreese, Sasha's brother. He stayed out of it to take care a' lil' Ass-kicker...Carol, she covered herself with walker guts; blew up a fuel tank, took down the fences so a herd could get in, shot up the place. Gave us a chance to make a break for it." Daryl said proudly. "She saved us, all by herself."

"If she's leading the charge out there, it sounds like we're good as gold." Aaron smirked over at him.

"She's not. She can't be. Not with the baby..." Erin said, sounding troubled, before she had a chance to think about what she was saying and to whom.

"What...what do you mean? Daryl asked, his voice going weak.

"Felicia." Erin said quickly. "Because I came with Deanna, Carol would have to stay to help with Felicia's baby, she's close to delivering."

Daryl nodded; that made sense. Carol had been prepared to do a caesarian on Lori back at the prison; she would know what to do without the doctor there.

"Well, let's hope she gave her game plan to whoever did come." Aaron said sagely. "Wait—what's that?"

It took a few seconds for them all to register that the sound they heard was the key to the cell block being turned. Deanna was shoved inside the doorway as a human shield, followed closely by Circe and her henchman.

"What do we have here then?" Circe asked, looking down at the bodies of her men that Aaron had stripped and stacked by the door.

"Back off, bitch." Daryl said menacingly, holding the larger knife taken off the dead man in a ready to throw position.

"The puppy can still bark through his bruises!" Circe laughed, holding her pistol against Deanna's neck. "Tell me puppy—you try sitting down on that pretty ass yet? My boys gave it quite the pounding, didn't they?"

Deanna's eyes closed in remorse when she saw the flare of shame and anger cross Dixon's face.

"I said back off!" Daryl repeated.

"No. Drop the knife or I'll make her a walker quicker than you can imagine." Circe refused to give in and pressed the gun deeper, making Deanna's eyes fly open again.

Aaron and Erin crouched low to the floor, waiting in the shadows behind Daryl. They didn't think the intruders knew they were there—they had hidden as soon as they saw Deanna wasn't alone.

"Drop it!" The minion barked, training his gun on Daryl, who let his shoulders slump as he let the knife fall to the floor with a clatter.

"The puppy is tame after all." Circe sneered and then swiftly raised her hand and fired.

Deanna threw her body in front of Daryl even as Aaron returned fire, hitting Circe square in the chest.

The Wolf leader stood frozen for about ten seconds, looking down at the spreading blood with puzzlement and then lifted her gun, opened her mouth and blew her own brains out.

"Bitch didn't ever want to turn." the man who had been with the women said, dropping his weapon, stepping over the corpse and raising his hands in surrender.

Aaron stepped forward, kicking the gun back towards Daryl and roughly forced the minion to his knees, binding his hands behind his back.

Erin was working frantically on Deanna, who had been hit in the upper abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. The ASZ leader's breath was raspy and a trickle of blood was running from the side of her mouth like the water from a tiny crack in a dam.

Daryl was sitting next to her, looking stunned.

"Daryl press here! Hard!" Erin instructed, turning to grab more of the dressings from her bag. While he did as she asked she rolled Deanna to her side, looking for an exit wound, swearing when she found none.

"Shit!"

"What?" Daryl asked, his eyes going back and forth between Erin and Deanna rapidly.

"Bullet's still in there...must've hit rib and fragmented," They both knew how bad it was.

"So what can we do?" Aaron asked, "Can we make a stretcher to get her out of here? Our people must be close! They had the leader cornered, that's why they came down here, to make a stand, right?"

Erin met Aaron's eyes and shook her head back and forth.

"No! I refuse to accept that. We're all getting out of here!" Aaron said, his voice stubborn, angry, hurting...

"It's all right Aaron." Deanna rasped. "Tell Eric I'll miss his spaghetti." she looked at Erin, "Help Spencer..."

"Of course," Erin nodded.

Deanna looked up at Daryl, smiling through her pain, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"Why?" Daryl muttered, uncomprehendingly, "Why did you do that?"

"You're a good man, Daryl, I see that now. You deserve to go home, to be with your family..." Deanna flashed him a little grin and put her hand on top of the one he was still holding over her wound, "I wish I could see...when Carol..."

And then she simply stopped, her mouth still forming the last letter of Carol's name. Her eyes, which had been focused and smiling at Daryl, went glassy. Her grip on his hand loosened and fell away.

Aaron pulled the silver heart necklace he recognized as Deanna's off the dead Wolf woman and brought it to Daryl.

Daryl continued to stare down at her, taking her small white hand in his big bloody one and placed the necklace on her palm and wrapped his fingers around it to close her hand over the heart.

He was still sitting there like that when Michonne and Rick burst into the room a few minutes later.

Common graveyard superstitions: Never whistle in a graveyard, you are summoning the Devil; If you lie down in a coffin you are taunting death to come and take you. .

Palfrey, Dale Hoyt (1995). "The Day of the Dead".Día de los Muertos Index. Access Mexico Connect.