Note: This installment is a bit shorter, but I wanted to keep all the farm stuff together.

Part II

There Was A Problem In Atlanta

Carol loaded each of their packs with as many supplies as could be comfortably carried. She wished they could simply get a car, but Daryl was oddly insistent that they had to stay off the roads until they were reasonably sure they were clear of the Saviors' territory. They headed west initially, hoping to clear it more quickly in that direction. Then they would find a car and go south.

After a few hours' hike, they came to a road where three cars were stalled. One was back twenty feet or so, hidden from view from the road.

"Daryl," Carol said as she opened the door. "Key's in the ignition."

She started the engine. "Full tank, too. Like it was here waiting just for us."

"Hmm," Daryl grunted as he checked the trunk. "Shitbox Nissan. Just once I wanna find a damn Lamborghini."

"Beggars can't be choosers. Get in."

"Shotgun," He muttered as he settled into the passenger seat. He leaned the seat back and put his feet on the dashboard.

In roughly ten hours they'd be there. Unfortunately they would lose daylight before that, but he supposed they could sleep in the car if they couldn't find a suitable place to hole up. Heaven knows he'd spent a lot of nights sleeping in cars in his lifetime. Another issue would be the fact the gas in the car would only take them about halfway, so they would have to find either gas or another operable vehicle. That could suck up an inordinate amount of time.

As it happened, they traded out the car in the early evening and decided to push through and crash for the night at their first destination. It was too late for hunting, forcing them to break into their rations.

At first light, they cautiously stepped out of the car into the quarry camp where they'd first met what felt like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it was a lifetime. They had all begun new lives the day the dead started walking.

They went from tent to tent, their minds flooding with memories. Daryl stopped short in front of the tent he once shared with Merle.

"I remember the first day the Dixon brothers showed up," Carol said. " We'd only been here three days ourselves. Shane thought you guys were bad news. He didn't want to let you stay, but you brought food. He couldn't turn down a proven hunter."

"Shane was a good judge of character. We were bad news."

"You weren't. You've proven that over and over again." She hesitated to tell him the rest. "Ed and Lori felt like Merle was a threat to the children."

Daryl replied without vitriol, "'fore the Turn, none a you woulda let a guy that looks like me anywhere near your kids."

"I guess the apocalypse has its upsides, too. It forced us to look past the stereotypes and see the people underneath."

Was it just a stereotype, though? He supposed if this was going to be about healing, he needed to air out his own deep, dark secret. He turned to Carol.

"Didn't ya guys ever wonder what me and Merle were doin' in that camp in the first place? We coulda survived on our own. We didn't need a group."

"I figured you must have had your reasons."

"We were gonna rob you blind," he blurted. "Take all the food, all the weapons and ammo. Whatever we could find."

"But you didn't," Carol protested.

"Merle didn't come back from Atlanta." He bit down on his lip. "Then the camp got overrun, the CDC blew up, Sophia got lost…one day I just realized I didn't wanna do it, even if I found Merle. Started to feel like part of the group."

"If he had come back that day," Carol dared to ask, "would you have gone through with it?"

"Truth? I don't know. I didn't want to, but I pretty much just followed him like a puppy. I always said I wasn't nobody's bitch. 'Cept I was. I was Merle's bitch."

"You know what? It doesn't matter. I don't think you would have done it, but even if you would've, even if you were that person then, you're not that person now. That's what matters."

They walked down by the water's edge.

"Here's where Ed had the nerve to slug me in front of everyone," she said sadly. "It was humiliating. Shane beat the hell out of him."

"Good for Shane. Told ya he was a good judge of character."

"Made it even more humiliating. And I would've paid the price later. Besides, Ed wasn't all bad. He had his moments."

"Yeah, takes a big man to beat up on a woman. 'Specially one he's supposed to be protectin'." He leveled his gaze at her. "You wish he was still here?"

"And be that scared, weak little housewife again?"

"You were never weak. You just didn't know it. There 'as always a badass in there tryin' to see daylight."

"Maybe it makes me evil, but no, I'm glad he's gone," she said sincerely. "Besides, if he had lived, there's no way I would've ever been allowed to talk to you and get to know you."

"Nothin' evil about it."

"There was a problem in Atlanta."

Shane's ominous words came back to Daryl as he stood in the center of camp.

"Right here," he said, one finger pointed at the ground.

"Right here what?"

"Right here some crazy son of a bitch I'd never met before calmly told me he left my last kin chained to a pipe on a rooftop in Atlanta," he said. "I pulled a knife on 'im, but Shane got me in a chokehold."

He shook his head, hands on his hips. "I'd just found out the damn walker ate the deer I was trackin' all day, and now this Rick Grimes asshole was tellin' me he left my brother to die alone. I knew Merle probably had it comin', but still, you know?"

"Now Rick and I are like brothers. Screwy how things work out sometimes," he snorted.

With a tilt of her chin, Carol motioned toward the car. "Come on."

From the trunk, she pulled out two bottles of water.

"We don't have any wine, so these will have to do."

He followed her to the shallow graves interring the bodies of Amy and Ed. Carol's mind replayed images of her pulverizing her husband's head. Oddly, the sting was gone from it. It was as though she was standing back watching it all happen to someone else. For once, she totally understood the actions of the woman wielding the pick axe.

"I hope you finally found some peace, Ed."

"To Jim," Daryl toasted.

"To sweet Amy," she raised her bottle for a toast.

"We can't get to the CDC, so…to Jacqui."

"I wonder if Morales and his family are still alive."

"To the Morales family."

( )

Around midday, they came to a halt at a familiar traffic jam.

Carol stood at the spot where she'd last seen her daughter alive, mentally noting all of things she would do differently now.

"She and Carl, they were under that car. Lori and I were under that one."

Daryl nodded.

"What the hell were we thinking? Why didn't we each take a child?"

"You were prolly thinkin' that a giant herd was comin' and as long as everyone stayed put they'd be ok."

"I wish I'd known then what I know now " she lamented. "I didn't even run after her. I thought it was best to leave it to Rick so he didn't have two people in danger to look for. I was so damned helpless," she spat.

"We didn't know enough about 'em then."

"Or each other. I don't think you and I had said ten words to each other yet." She gave him a look he couldn't decipher. "Now days we wouldn't even hide. We'd just use your bike, or one of the cars to lead them away from the children."

Daryl let out a long, sad sigh. "I'm sorry I couldn't find the trail."

She took his hand and met his eyes. "Thank you for trying so hard."

...TBC