I carried another crate of food down into the basement as per Uncle Hershel's request. Rick's group was moving into the house since winter was coming and for their safety, especially after Dale's death. My leg throbbed with every step I took down the steps but I gritted my teeth and pushed through the pain.

"Ves, can you come up here?" Maggie called from the top of the steps.

"Got another crate for me?"

She laughed, "Nah, no more crates, don't worry."

"Thank god. I don't think I would've been able to take another trip down here." My hand gripped the railing as I walked back up the stairs. The pain in my leg was becoming unbearable, but I didn't want to take the sidelines or be put back on bedrest so I masked the pain as best as I could. "What's up?"

Maggie looked over her shoulder towards the living room then leaned in close to me. "Do you think Glenn might still be upset?"

"About what? Didn't y'all already kiss and make up with all that 'I love you' crap?"

"Yeah, we did, but I don't know... He's been actin' a bit weird."

I leaned against the doorframe to take some weight off my bad leg. I sighed, looking between the living room and her. "Glenn's always been a bit weird, Mags. That's what makes you two special for each other. Whatever it is, it's probably nothin' or maybe it's the fact that he watched one of his people die last night. Just give him a bit and talk to him later."

"Yeah, you're right."

"When am I not?"

"Oh shut up!" She joked as she playfully hit my arm. "But I do think there's one person you shouldn't shut up for." A smirk grew on her face as she jutted her chin out, like she was pointing something out. When I turned around, Daryl walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes! I'll go talk to Glenn later, but you should talk to him now."

Maggie shoved me down the hallway to stand near the bathroom and held me there until the doorknob started to turn. I tried pulling away from her, but her grip was strong - just like her determination. When the door started to open, she quickly let me go and ran into the other room.

"Maggie!" I hissed out and the insult that I was about to throw at her died on my tongue when Daryl's tall body stood right next to me. "Hey, Daryl. Fancy seein' you here."

His brows furrowed a bit. "It's the bathroom and I had to take a piss. If anythin', I should be sayin' that to you, Vesper."

"Right, yeah. Um, about last night, with Dale and the whole Randall thing..."

"Nothin' to talk 'bout. Dale's dead and if it weren't for that damn kid, so would Randall." He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the door.

Taking a chance, I took a small step towards Daryl. It was a somewhat narrow hallway so if I took two more steps, I would practically be right up under him. "Yeah, I know, but still. I wouldn't go as far as sayin' that you and Dale were buddy-chum-pals, but puttin' him outta his misery must not've been easy."

"Somebody had to do it." He pulled one of his hands out and started chewing the side of thumb. It was a habit I figured he did whenever he was nervous or deep in thought. "Gonna go with Rick to dump Randall. Might not be back 'til 'bout sundown."

"You think it'll be a solid plan?"

He shrugged. "It's the only plan we have right now, so it's gotta be."

"Just... Just be safe out there, alright?"

"Alright."

I gave him a small nod with a smile, and as I walked away, I patted him on his arm. The warmth that he radiated was so strong that even when I stood out on the porch, I could still feel the remnants of it. It was a gesture that I did out of comfort, but it was a nice bonus that I got a chance to feel his muscles. As I leaned against the railing of the porch, I watched as everybody milled around. Most of them were moving things from their vehicles into the house for the winter. Daryl and T-Dog were prepping Daryl's blue truck for the little road trip with Randall.

I eventually grew tired of people watching so I decided to go on a little perimeter walk. I grabbed my bow and arrows and told Uncle Hershel where I would be. The walk to the tree line was long, but the serenity of the woods made it worthwhile.

My machete tapped against my right leg and my bow was loosely held in my hands. If it were any other universe, it would just be me taking a nice little walk in the woods. But it's not, and the tracks that caught my eye told me as much. The outline of boots were easy to pick out but the other tracks next to it was a mess.

I took a look at my surroundings to check for any walkers or for anything else weird. When I deemed it was good enough, I followed the tracks further into the woods. They circled around and doubled back a lot, almost as though someone was making sure they wouldn't get followed. A bad feeling started to settle in the pit of my stomach as I continued to follow it. Something about this wasn't right...

The tracks went deeper and deeper into the woods, maybe about a mile or two. At that point my leg was screaming at me. I raised bow with my arrow in place when the sounds of hushed talking reached my ears.

"Now your group, you know where they're at?"

"No, I don't. I really-"

"Okay. Get your little ass up here. Now I'm the only shot of you getting out of these woods alive. You hear me?" I peaked around a tree to Shane crouched in front of Randall. "Now you start talking, boy. Where are they at?"

"We had a camp set off the highway. About five miles from here." Shit! They're practically right under our noses and at any time they could decide to just 'wander' onto the damn farm and kill us all. "Who knows if they're still there?"

"So you're gonna take me to 'em?"

"Why?"

"Because, man, I- I'm just- I'm done with this group, man. They're doomed and I want no part of it."

"So you're not gonna kill me?"

"Come on, man. If I was, you'd be dead." Shane pulled Randall off of the forest floor and pushed him in front to lead the way.

I waited until they were just out of ear shot to start following them again. My bow was lowered as I quickly followed after them. I moved from tree to tree to avoid getting noticed which was surprisingly hard to do; Shane looked over his shoulder way too much for my liking. Randall's chatter helped make sure that I was going in the right direction, but when there was a shout followed by silence I knew that Shane had killed him.

I readied my bow and hid behind a tree that was just a few feet away from them. Times like this I wished that I brought somebody, namely Daryl, with me. If I were to shoot Shane, I'd only have one good shot before having to go hand-to-hand if I couldn't reach my machete fast enough. I just have to make it back to the farm without him noticing me.

I went to shift my weight to crouch down, but a twig that was under my foot had different plans. The loud snap caused me to freeze and hold my breath.

"Who's there?" Shane yelled out into the forest. "I know there's somebody out here!"

This is where I have to make a vital decision. I can either stay in my spot and hope for the best; I can run and hope for the best; Or I can confront Shane and hope for the best. With my leg in as much pain as it is now, running wouldn't be the best and if I stayed right here, it would give him the upper hand because he would be close enough to lash out. So I guess option three is the way to go.

I took a deep calming breath before stepping out from behind the tree. My bow was raised high and I tried my best to keep my voice as steady as I could. I let my anger take the lead like I've done many times before. "I had a feelin' you would be one to kill a man with his back turned and hands tied. Say, did you do it to get back in your mistresses' good graces or her husband's?"

"You have no clue what you're talkin' about, girl." Shane sneered. He had blood dripping down his nose, probably from a self-inflected injury so that he could sell a story. "You saw somethin' you weren't supposed to. Now I gotta tie up lose ends."

"I saw exactly what I needed to see, Shane. I had my suspicions 'bout you, especially after you lied 'bout killin' Otis, but this just proves everythin'."

Shane lunged at me at the same time I released my arrow and instead of hitting him in his chest, the arrow flew right by him- just nicking his arm. His shoulder rammed into my chest and I went flying back onto the ground. He quickly climbed on top to straddle my waist and punched me right below my eye.

As he was about to throw another punch, I pushed my hips up, bucking him off of me, and scrambled to my feet. I threw an uppercut into Shane's diaphragm and when he doubled over, I gripped his shoulders and threw my knee up to the same spot. My arms were about to wrap around his neck but he wrapped his arms around my waist and forced me back onto the ground with him on top.

I could almost feel each of his individual fingers as his hands tightly wrapped around my throat. I dug my nails into his inner wrists hard enough for him to loosen his grip and when he did, I got back up to my feet and kicked him in the head. He landed with a grunt, his face bloodier than before. Shane yanked my foot out from under me, causing me to land with a thud next to him. At some point my machete had fallen out of its sheath somewhere and Shane's gun was quick to follow.

We grappled each other, both trying to gain the upper hand. We both had strength and speed, but I didn't know how much experience Shane had at fighting. What I did know is that wherever Shane lacked in experience, it was quickly filled by psychotic rage.

My eyes slammed shut when my head bounced off the rough bark of the tree Shane tackled me into. When he released me from his monstrous grasp, I slid down the tree trunk and fell over to the side. I focused on the ringing in my ears as I swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up out of my mouth.

I listened as his heavy footsteps moved away from me, muttering angrily under his breath. Knowing I didn't have long, I took a moment to gather my bearings and get my vision straightened. As I slowly pushed myself up from the ground, I let my surroundings fade from my attention and solely focused on the sociopath that stood several feet away with his back to me.

I swayed on my feet with each quiet step I took towards him. It wasn't until I was almost flush against him did he realize that I was there. I threw my right arm up and around him until his neck was in the crook of my elbow, squeezing hard I grabbed onto my right bicep to add more pressure. I grunted in pain as he scratched and clawed at my arms and whatever else he could reach. Forcing us both to the ground for even more leverage, I held him tightly in the chokehold until his defensive movements slowed to a full stop.

When I deemed it safe enough to release him, I placed my two fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. Feeling nothing but stillness, I crawled away from the now-dead Shane and rested against the tree that nearly knocked me out.

If anything stuck with me from before the rise of the dead, it was mine and Jax's motto: Strike hard, strike fast. And may God have mercy on my enemies 'cause I sure as hell won't.