Sinclaire swung her machete up and through a zombie's chin to pierce its brain and listened to the 'whoosh' of a crossbow bolt from her left. Right in the eye. He had excellent aim. She wondered it he'd teach her. Rick, Nate, and Merle were working hard to clear the zombies headed toward them, while Glenn stuck close to Daryl, taking out anything that got too close while Daryl reloaded. They really were a good team. She swung again, burying her machete in the top of a shorter zombies head and then kicking it backward. It didn't take long to clear the area. Nate shoved the door shut.

"Could you tell how many there were?" Sinclaire asked as she brushed her hair back with her wrist so she didn't get zombie slime in her hair.

"No," Nate said. "But they were in there for sure. I could hear them."

"So, around front?" Glenn asked.

Nate pulled the SUV around but the others walked. Sinclaire saw Daryl pulling bolts out of the zombie skulls and shaking the muck off of them as best he could. She'd wondered how he never ran out.

"That wasn't so bad," Merle said.

"I know. I have a bad feeling about it."

"The hell for?" he asked Sinclaire.

"Too easy is never good. It's like they're waiting."

"That's bullshit. Yer thinkin' like a human."

"Silly me."

"Well, they don't. So ya can't."

"Damn."

"What?"

"It's a good point, that's what. Fine. You're right."

"Say it again."

"No. You're conceited enough as it is."

"Ready to go in?" Rick asked.

Sinclaire shook off the bad feeling and nodded. Damn Merle for being right, but he was. It wasn't like zombies could organize an ambush. They got in and got the door closed. Glenn stationed himself near it, looking out.

"I'll stay here," Daryl said. "Watch yer back."

"Thanks," Glenn said in relief. "I was wondering how I was going to watch, and watch, you know?"

"Yeah." Daryl cocked the bow and looked at Sinclaire. "Take care of yerself Yank."

"You too Bowhunter."

"Ya ain't worried 'bout me?" Merle asked Daryl. "Ungrateful ass-"

Daryl aimed and shot and a zombie dropped behind Merle.

"Get that fer me will ya?" he asked, nodding at the bolt. "And then go do somethin' 'stead of standin' around bitchin'."

Merle laughed and tossed the bolt back to Daryl.

"Let's go," Nate said impatiently.

They started off, working their way aisle by aisle through the store. It actually wasn't that bad. Most of the herd that had poured in while Rick and Sinclaire were there seemed to have passed on through. There were a few random ones bumbling around, but less than twenty total.

"Fuckin' let down is what it is," Merle said as they tossed the bodies out the back door. "I was all ready for a challenge."

They closed the door securely and Sinclaire zip tied it on the inside with one of the ties she'd brought.

"I say we loot the fuck out of the place," she said. "Everything we can think of that we'll need. It's a waste of gas to drive back here and if you didn't leave the back door open, and we didn't leave the backdoor open, there's someone else around here. Someone human. And, whoever they are, they're a moron."

Nate nodded and the spent the next hour or so loading up carts and bags and the boxes Rick found in the back. Sinclaire was shocked to see Rick loading up a cart with baby things.

"Ya didn't know?" Merle asked when Rick went out.

"No! What the...when?"

"Fer a while now," Merle said. "Sometimes I swear ya think just like a man."

"Bite me."

"Where at?"

Eventually the shelves were picked clean and the SUV was packed full so Sinclaire zip tied the front door closed and they left. They rode in silence, everyone nearly crushed under the weight of the food they'd brought out. Sinclaire was annoyed. She'd wanted to stop by the library, but there wasn't a spare square inch in the car for a book. Daryl looked annoyed too, but that might have been because Nate took a curve a little fast and sent a box of cans tumbling onto his head. Sinclaire and Merle were the only ones who managed to duck the onslaught, but Daryl was the only one who took it personally.

"Behold!" Sinclaire called when they arrived back at the bar. "We bring food. Massive, painful amounts of food."

Everyone clustered around, looking into the SUV in amazement.

"Hell don't just stand there," Merle barked. "Take it inside. Then cook. I have to tell ya everything?"

There was a generalized eye roll, but hands reached in and grabbed boxes and bags. Sinclaire leaned against the side of the car and watched.

"What?" she said in response to Merle's raised eyebrow. "If you bring home the bacon you don't have to cook it right?"

"Sounds good to me."

Daryl swung his bow up and walked off.

"Where ya goin' baby brother?"

"Huntin'."

"Ya ain't had no luck-"

"Stuff it."

Sinclaire decided that a bath was a good idea. Nothing like killing zombies to make a girl want some freshening up. She warned the others and boiled some water. She was splashing water over her back when she heard footsteps.

"Bathing!" she shouted.

"How 'bout if I promise not to look? It's cold out here!"

"Fine," she said, recognizing Daryl's voice. Hell, he'd seen it before anyway.

The back door opened and he walked in.

"Is that a turkey?" she asked in surprise.

"Yep," Daryl answered, facing studiously away. "I got lucky."

"Sure did. It's huge!"

"I'd say it's not the first time I've heard that...but ya'd know I was lyin'."

She snorted without meaning to. She thought he laughed too, but it was hard to tell since he was still facing away. He went in and she heard general exclamations of joy from the bar. Sinclaire got out of the tub and dressed quickly.

"So?" she asked the room at large. "What do you think? I know I grabbed some cranberry sauce...what if we made tomorrow Thanksgiving?"

"Fuck yeah," Merle said, thumping her on the back. "Yer always full of good ideas Yank."

"Okay, yeah," Daryl said. "But I shot the turkey."

"It can't be Thanksgiving," Andrea said.

"Why not?" Carl asked.

"It's too late. It already was."

"Oh."

Everyone was momentarily silenced. Glenn coughed the word 'buzzkill.' Andrea shrugged.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think about it at the time." She defended herself.

"How far past it are we?" Shane asked.

"According to my calendar its December 5th."

"So...how about a big Sunday dinner?" Sinclaire asked. "Isn't that something rednecks do?" she continued with a smile and a poke on Merle's shoulder.

"It's Tuesday," Andrea said.

"Christ on a crutch!" Merle yelled. "Ya got somethin' against turkey?"

"No! I'm all for the turkey," she said. "I say lets eat."

"It'll have to be tomorrow," Carol said. "If we brine the turkey it won't be so dry when we roast it," she explained hurriedly when Merle turned his gaze to her.

"And we gotta pluck it and all that," Daryl said.

Everyone suddenly found something else to do.

"Oh. I guess that's me then," he muttered. "Fine."

He got a jacket and went back out. Sinclaire headed for the room she shared with Merle.

"Where are you going?" Tiff asked her.

"To get my book," Sinclaire said, her tone daring her to continue. She'd actually been planning to get her things together and take them to the truck, but not with that attitude.

"Whatcha up to?" Merle asked a few moments later as she turned the small room upside down.

"Where the hell is my book?"

"I wasn't exactly payin' attention to yer book last night," Merle said. "Think I saw it go flyin' when ya threw my jacket though."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Yer welcome. Ya ain't gonna stick around and read?"

"No. I thought I'd get some fresh air."

"Ya comin' back tonight?"

"No. I thought I'd sleep in the truck again."

Merle didn't know what to say. Was Sinclaire hoping to get it on with Daryl? Or was she mad at him because of Tiff? Was she hoping to punish him by making him shack up with another woman?

"Well," he said, opting for a classic. "Fuck you too then."

Sinclaire considered throwing her book again—this time at his head—but she left her better nature prevail.

"Don't worry Merle," she said. "Maybe I'll invite you for a sleepover one night."