The girl went so pale so fast that Sinclaire was worried that she was going to pass out. The man reached out and steadied her as he looked up at them.

"You two from that camp up there?" he asked.

"What camp?"

Sinclaire admired the way Bowhunter staunchly avoided answering the question, but she admitted that her heartstrings tugged just a little.

"The one the Lord told me was on up ahead," the man answered evenly. "He told me something about a last chance."

Sinclaire felt her eyebrows go up. She wasn't particularly religious, but her mother and father had taken her to church on the major holidays. She had to admit she was impressed. She was the only one.

"Think it might be best if ya'll just headed on back where ya came from."

"No!"

It was the first time the girl had spoken and she did it vehemently.

"You don't know what it's like out there! It's easy for you to sit up there with your guns and your…" she nodded to the crossbow. "Whatever the hell that is, but what if you didn't have those? What if—"

"It's a crossbow. And I don't ever plan to find out what might happen if I didn't have it. I sure as fuck know what it's like out there, sweetheart, and that's why I ain't plannin' on lettin' people just stroll into my woods like they own the place."

"Oh these are your woods?" the girl put her hands on her hips and did her best to sneer.

Sinclaire gave her props. It was shaky, but it was there.

"I guess we didn't get the memo. I guess, while we were busy running for our lives, we should have stopped and asked permission from the local redneck."

"Daryl," he cut in. "And ya damn well should've."

"Brother please—" the man began.

"I ain't yer damn brother."

"We need to have a talk," the man went on without showing any sign of impatience at the interruption. "For example, I'd like to know your name."

He nodded at Sinclaire. She recognized the tactic. Divide and conquer.

"It's Sinclaire," she said as she tossed down the rope ladder and climbed down it. "Captain Sinclaire Lewis. U.S Army."

"Mighty pleased to meet you, Captain Lewis," the man said formally as he held his hand out. When she shook it he said, "I'm Reverend Amos Fletchley and this is my companion—"

"No," the girl said. "What's the point? They aren't going to let us stick around no matter what God told you."

"Ya really expect me to believe that God sent ya'll here?"

"I don't expect you to believe anything but that which the Almighty Himself chooses to impart upon you," Reverend Amos Fletchley said sonorously. "But he showed me the way to you and told me that we'd be protected by you. He showed me your hearts. You're good, Godly people."

Sinclaire was suddenly possessed of a strong desire to laugh. Here she was practicing fornication with a virgin in the woods while Lori was pregnant with a baby that was either her husband's or his best friend's. Andrea and Dale were shacking up, as were Glenn and Carrie. Tiff was an ex-stripper, stopped only by a zombie apocalypse, and Merle was…well. Merle was Merle. The good Reverend would be in for a shock.

"I guess we can take you to our leader," she said, earning an extremely dirty look from Bowhunter. "We'll let him decide on what to do with you."

"Bring him here," the girl said.

"He's a family man. Got a son and a kid on the way. He ain't gonna come waltzing out here fer yer convenience."

That, as Sinclaire knew, was a lie, but she decided to see what the Reverend and his companion did with the information.

"It's okay," the man said with a reassuring pat on the girl's shoulder. "It won't be like last time."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"What the hell happened to ya?"

"None of your business you jerk," the girl snapped.

"Shit. Fine then. Ya'll can follow or not. All the same to me."

With that, Bowhunter turned and stomped toward camp. Sinclaire hurried to catch up.

"I've never seen you be that mean," she whispered.

"Don't like that fuckin' preacher man. Don't know what the hell's up with the girl. She's skittish and I don't like people like that."

"Someone's hurt her," Sinclaire said.

"Yeah, and what do ya think that means for us?"

"I don't know. I think bringing them to Rick was a good idea though."

"Hope so," was all he replied.

It wasn't exactly a cheery answer, and when she saw the alarm on everyone's faces when newcomers stepped into the camp, she wished they had just gotten Rick and met back with them in the woods. Shane and Nate both stepped forward with guns drawn and the girl began to shake visibly.

"Buck up," Bowhunter muttered out of the side of his mouth. "Ain't gonna shoot ya with me standin' right in front of ya."

"I'm fine," she said, clearly lying.

"Who the hell's this?" Merle asked for everyone.

"They claim to come in peace," Sinclaire said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "They want to talk to Rick."

Rick stepped forward and Shane came with him with the shotgun on his shoulder.

"Get yer ass over here," Merle barked at Sinclaire.

She didn't want to have to deal with the repercussions of ignoring him, so she took her ass over to where he was seated by the fire.

"The fuck ya thinkin' Yank?" he demanded. "We barely got enough fer us and ya start bringin' home strays?"

"What can I say?" she said flippantly. "I'm soft hearted. You can't complain about it for sure."

"Shit," he said, drawing the word out into three or four syllables. "I can complain all I damn well please. They coulda knifed ya in yer fuckin' back or some shit."

"You underestimate me," she said with a grin.

"Where's my idiot brother anyhow?"

"He stayed to talk with Rick and the Reverend. To be fair you didn't order his ass over here."

"Figured it'd be implied," Merle said with a frown, borrowing one of Sinclaire's phrases without realizing it. "Hang on. Reverend? Ya shittin' me?"

"Not at all. Or at least that's what he says he is. Dresses the part too."

"The girl?"

"I don't know. She's spooked. She talked about "him" waiting for her. I don't know who "him" is though. The guns seemed to scare the hell out of her too."

"Been hurt bad," Merle said as he eyed her. "Broke ribs I betcha."

"Ribs?" Sinclaire turned and looked back.

"See how she's standin'? Ain't nobody's posture that damn good all the time."

"Surprisingly astute," she said with a smile.

"I broke Daryl's once," he said. "That's how he walked fer about a month. Ain't nothin' ya can do ya know. Just gotta let 'em heal."

"It'll take more than a month to heal what's wrong with that girl," Sinclaire predicted. "If Rick let's them stay."

"My bet is that he will," Merle said. "He's a fuckin' soft touch. Jest like ya are."

"Fuck you Merle Dixon; I am not a soft touch."

"Jest repeatin' after ya, Yank."

He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Seems like it's getting sort of heated over there," she said after a moment of watching the conversation.

Rick was speaking, but so was Shane. Nate had stepped into the conversation as well and soon Sinclaire saw him start talking just like everyone else. The girl was gesturing and the Reverend seemed to be trying to get everyone to quiet down. It wasn't working. Bowhunter was the only one who was silent.

Tiff and Carrie came and sat down near Merle and Sinclaire.

"I'm worried," Tiff admitted when Merle put his arm around her.

"Why?" he asked. "Look harmless to me."

"But what if they're infected?" Carrie asked.

"That's what happened at the safe haven," Tiff said. "People who were bitten came in even though they weren't supposed to and killed almost everyone there."

Merle looked at Sinclaire.

"I guess we could ask them to submit to being searched," she said. "But I don't know how the girl would take it."

"You shouldn't give them a choice!" Tiff said vehemently. "If they change in the night we could all die!"

Sinclaire knew she was right about that so she said, "If Rick lets them stay I'll tell him to search them."

The two women seemed to relax a little at that, but the scene near the Reverend was getting more tense by the minute. Shane was shouting now and occasionally so was Nate.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"That's my little brother," Merle said with a grin as silence fell at Daryl's sudden shout.

"Longer we stand here yellin' the more attention we draw," he continued. "So let's make a damn decision and be done with it. I say they can stay. We watch ya like fuckin' hawks," he clarified. "But ya stay. 'Least that's my vote. Do what the fuck ya want."

Sinclaire gave him a thumbs up as he walked away from the conversation and he gave her the barest hint of a grin.

"Ya finally got some balls," Merle said, punching him the arm.

"Figured ya'd chew me out fer sayin' they could stay," Daryl said as he sat down beside Sinclaire.

"Rick's gonna cave," Merle said. "Knew it from the minute ya'll dragged 'em into the damn parkin' lot."

"Your grasp of human nature is surprisingly astute," Sinclaire muttered when Rick gestured for Reverend and companion to join the group at the fire.

"Sure is," Merle said smugly.

"Are you up for making new friends?" she asked.

"Fuck that. Sure hope it ain't gonna break their hearts when I don't give a shit."

"The girl seems pretty standoffish," Sinclaire acknowledged. "But Reverend Amos is a friendly man."

She'd barely finished the sentence before the man was in the middle of the group shaking hands and praising God.

"He starts handin' out Kool-Aid and ya come find me," Merle muttered to Sinclaire and Tiff.

"Sure thing," Sinclaire said as Tiff giggled and gave him a hug.

"And these must be your friends," Amos said, holding out his hand to Merle. "I can't tell you how happy I am that the Lord led me here."

"Looks to me like Yank and Daryl led ya here," Merle said. Sinclaire kicked his shin and he shook the man's hand.

"Who do you think sent them to us?" the man said unflappably.

Merle sighed and chose not to continue the conversation. Mostly thanks to another kick from Sinclaire.

The girl didn't seem to be interested in a meet and greet. She stood stiffly with her back to the fire and her arms crossed. Every now and then Merle saw her glance at Daryl. Finally she couldn't hold back anymore.

"Why'd you stick up for us?" she asked.

Daryl looked up at her and shrugged.

"You didn't even want to take us back. Why'd you do it?"

"What was the point in not doin' it? Ya already knew where we was livin' by then. Ya think I could make ya forget? I ain't a fuckin' Jedi."

She snorted and turned away again.

Sinclaire laughed. "These are not the survivors you are looking for."

Merle ruffled her hair and stood up.

"Question is, where ya puttin' 'em?" he asked. "We're pretty full up around here."

"There's always the kitchen," Nate pointed out.

"What about that?" the girl asked, jerking her thumb at the box truck. "It looks big enough."

"That's mine," Daryl drawled.

"Fuck that, I'm just lettin' ya borrow it," Merle said indignantly.

"Actually," Sinclaire said as she spun a keychain around her finger. "It's mine. But the point is that it's taken. We sleep in it."

"When you've got a tree house all your own?" the girl asked.

Sinclaire shrugged. "Variety is the spice of life. Even during a zombie apocalypse."

"Zombies?" the girl repeated. "Is that what you call the biters?"

"Yeah. Biters? Is that what you call them?"

"That's what he called them."

"He who?" Sinclaire asked, aware that it made her sound like a donkey.

The girl didn't answer so the Reverend took over.

"Fellow calls himself the…mayor?"

"Governor," the girl answered tightly. "He called himself the Governor."

"The Governor," Amos corrected himself. "I never knew him myself. I ran into Girlie at my church; she'd been hurt bad. Barely escaped with her life."

"Your church?" Sinclaire asked. "Were you hiding out there?"

"Why would I not take shelter in the house of the Lord?"

"I don't know. I guess it occurred to a lot of people," Sinclaire mused.

"Just me and the Rev." the girl snapped. "He patched me up; we stayed there until the food ran out."

"How much food ya keep in yer church?" Merle asked. He was still standing but he was plainly more interested in the conversation than he thought he'd be and he wasn't planning to go anywhere.

"We'd been planning a big youth party and bake sale," Amos said. "I actually had more than enough to live on for a long while."

"Well shit," Merle drawled. "Guess it was good timin' fer ya."

"The Lord did provide."

"Ya must be a hell of a guy fer him to provide so damn much fer ya and let most everybody else get eaten."

The sarcasm was brutal but the Reverend seemed used to it. He only shrugged and others joined in the conversation.

Sinclaire turned when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"I want to talk to you."

She raised an eyebrow at Shane but she stood up. Daryl stood too, Merle stepped forward when she did.

"I don't need your entourage either," Shane snapped.

"You make me sound like a rock star. Very well my dahlings," she said to Merle and Daryl. "If I'm not back in five minutes bring a shovel. You'll have to help me hide the body."