The next morning, Rosie was tired out of her mind. She hadn't slept at all, hadn't even tried to. So she just sat in her spot on the car seat couch, her legs curled up to her chest, as she watched the men take care of the bodies.

Rick had explained to Shane and Lori where Rosie was and what had happened. She spaced out and didn't listen whatsoever when Shane and Lori came to scold her for trying to run away. She didn't see the point in listening if they weren't going to do anything but say that she shouldn't do it again.

Turned out that the gun Rick had given her was actually her father's gun. Apparently he took it from her bag when she was with the vatos. He hadn't taken it back yet, and Rosie really hoped he wouldn't. What would a rock in a slingshot do to a dead man trying to kill her? Absolutely nothing.

The camp suffered a lot of deaths. Rosie was still sure that none of the survivors knew exactly how she felt. And Rosie knew that she didn't know exactly how they felt either. It was just a stupid thing people say to make you feel less alone. But it never helped.

Andrea hadn't moved from Amy's side. It was like she was glued there, to the dirt, next to her dead little sister.

Daryl was going around with a pickaxe, swinging it into each and every walker's skull, just to make sure they were dead. Then Glenn and T-Dog would work together to gather the walkers into a pile and start a fire.

Rosie was watching as they dropped the body of the walker she had killed to save the Morales family into the pile when Rick walked up beside Shane. "She still won't move?" he asked.

"She won't even talk to us," Lori said. She was sitting on one of the crates. "She's been there all night. What do we do?"

"Can't just leave Amy like that. We need to deal with it. Same as the others," Shane said quietly. He, and  everyone else, was still covered in sweat, dirt, and walker blood.

"I'll tell her how it is," Rick said before walking over to where Andrea was. Rosie was picking at the blood caked beneath her nails when Rick started talking to Andrea, but her head shot up when she heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

"I know how the safety works," Andrea said, speaking her first words since last night. She was holding a gun at Rick's head. Rick slowly backed away, apologizing, and Andrea lowered her gun, turning back to Amy.

They all stared at her for a moment, then Daryl appeared next to Carol, his pickaxe over his shoulder. "Y'all can't be serious. Let that girl hamstring us?" he said, gesturing towards Andrea and Amy- or what used to be Amy. "The dead girl's a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?"  Rick asked.

"Take the shot," Daryl said, as if it were obvious. He pointed to his temple. "Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No," Lori said firmly. "For God's sakes, let her be."

Shane stood up, looking between Rick and Daryl. Rosie hoped that he wouldn't start acting like he was king of the world again. He was always so bossy. That was something Rosie's dad always complained to her about him. Rosie didn't want to hear Shane's opinion, but she knew she would probably have to hear it anyway.

Rosie herself thought that Daryl was right. After last night, she knew they needed to kill every walker that was even close to any of them. It didn't matter if it was Amy or not. She didn't need to turn before they killed her. She was already dead.

Daryl scoffed and walked away to continue helping with the bodies.

With a sigh, Rosie stood up from where she was sitting around the firepit, about to go down to the quarry and try to get the blood out from under her finger nails, but then Jacqui started yelling. "A walker got him!" she announced. Rosie turned and saw her standing next to Jim. "A walker bit Jim!"

Boy, was Jim having a rough couple of days.

Rosie stepped out of the way, her back pressed up against the side of the RV as Shane, Rick, and Daryl came marching towards Jim. "Show it to us," Daryl commanded.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," Jim kept saying.

"Show it to us," Daryl said again. Jim backed away grabbing his shovel to use as a weapon. Rosie didn't get why he was fighting. He'd be dead within the next three days. What was the point?

T-Dog snuck up behind Jim and knocked the shovel out of his hands before restraining him, holding his arms back as Daryl lifted Jim's shirt. On the right side of his abdomen, a deep bite mark was red and bleeding, despite Jim's continuous claims of being "okay".

The adults gathered in a circle to discuss what to do. Aside from Jim. He sat outside the RV. And Rosie went down to the quarry, like she intended to before. She couldn't stand the feeling of blood behind her fingernails, first of all, and second of all, she frankly did not care what happened to Jim. She barely knew him and he'd be dead within a few days, no matter what.

If I were him, I'd have blown my brains out already, Rosie thought.

She sat on the rocks by the quarry, leaning over the water and continuously scrubbing her hands. There were still some bloodstained rocks a few feet away where Shane beat the shit out of Ed. That was something that had happened when Rosie was gone.

Ed Peletier was Carol's husband and Sophia's father. He was a piece of shit, apparently. Rosie just thought he was a normal guy. He wasn't much different from her own father, aside from the fact that David let Rosie do things that weren't strictly "feminine", like hunting and shooting guns.

Anyway, Shane had beaten the shit out of Ed after he hit Carol. Rosie didn't get why. Her dad never got in trouble when he hit Rosie. Rosie thought maybe it was because she was a kid and Carol was an adult. And maybe it was because the world was ending. There was no more consequences to beating the shit out of people. Maybe Shane just didn't like Ed.

Ed Peletier was dead now anyway, Rosie remembered. Just like Amy. Just like so many others at that camp.

While she sat there, scrubbing away at her hands and picking beneath her nails, she thought about her baseball coach. She wondered if he was still alive. She wondered if he had looked for her. Sometimes she wished that he was there in Atlanta with her, but it made her feel guilty to think that because of nights like last night. Nights where so many people died.

It was better for her baseball coach to be far away. Safer, hopefully. Everyone around Rosie all seemed to keep dying.

The blood from underneath her nails was finally- for the most part, at least- gone. It was no use trying to get all of it out, even if seeing it there made her want to puke. It wasn't going to come out. The blood on her clothes wasn't going to come out either, but that wasn't as noticeable because the clothing was darker. Plus, she still had her new crocodile shirt in her backpack to change into whenever she got the chance.

Rosie figured the next best thing to do would be to help. Whether it be helping Daryl make sure all of the walkers were dead, or helping T-Dog and Glenn drag the bodies to the fire.

She also knew she could pack up her tent, but she didn't want to. If someone else wanted it, they could have it. But Rosie wasn't spending another second in that tent.

The adults were talking earlier that morning, and Rosie had been listening. Sometimes she wondered if they forgot she was there. They said that they couldn't stay there any longer. The noise from the gunfire was going to attract every walker from Atlanta and the same thing would happen again.

So they were going.

Rosie wasn't sure if they had decided where exactly they were going just yet, but that didn't matter to her. Not like she had a say in it anyway. She'd tried to run away and make her own choice on where to go, and they stopped her. The same thing would just happen again. Part of her wished she'd stayed with the vatos.

The girl walked back up to camp and was headed towards the RV. That's where everyone was usually gathered, so that's where Rosie figured she would find the adults, and maybe figure out what their plan was.

No one was there at the moment, so Rosie decided she'd wait for them quietly, so when they did start talking, they wouldn't notice that she was listening. She sat on a crate outside of the RV, holding her chin in her hands with a small grimace as she watched Daryl drive his pickaxe down into the walkers' skulls.

What was really surprising, though, was that when Daryl was about to get to Ed Peletier, Carol stepped up. "I'll do it. He's my husband," she said quietly. Daryl seemed hesitant, but he handed her the pickaxe anyway.

With week arms and some sobbing, Carol lifted the pickaxe and dropped it down onto Ed's skull. Over and over and over again.

When Carol was done, she looked directly at Rosie. "I'm sorry," she said. Rosie didn't understand what she was apologizing for.

"Don't gotta be," Rosie replied quietly. As far as she knew, Carol had no reason to be apologizing. Was it because she had to watch Carol do that? That didn't make sense, because Rosie had seen worse.

What Rosie wasn't understanding was that Carol knew. She had figured it out. She'd seen the similarities between Ed and David. So when she was apologizing, she was really apologizing for never having done something. She knew Rosie was being hurt, but she didn't do anything about it. What could she do though, really? She was on a tight leash with Ed watching her every move.

Carol nodded and gave the pickaxe back to Daryl before walking away.

Daryl looked from Rosie, to Carol, and then back at Rosie. He narrowed his eyes a little bit at Rosie, and then went back to shoving the pickaxe into walkers' skulls. "You ever talk to her before?" he asked.

Rosie chewed on the inside of her lip a little bit. "Don't think so. Don't get what she's sorry for," Rosie told Daryl. He didn't say anything, so she added something else. "Women are confusing," she said, making Daryl scoff out a laugh.

Neither of them said anything for another minute as Daryl continued on with his job, but then Rosie thought of something to say. "Sorry I didn't stop Merle," she told him.

"Asshole cut off his own hand. He could've just waited," Daryl said with a scoff.

Rosie didn't say anything. She still felt stupid. If she could've just remembered the bobby pin she'd left outside the door, then maybe Merle would still be there.

"Killed those walkers with that tiny lil' pocket knife on your way to the roof, huh?" Daryl said, changing the topic of conversation. Rosie shrugged, remembering the walkers in the stairwell. "Pretty badass," Daryl said.

Rosie found herself wanting to smile at that.

That's right, the guy with a badass crossbow thinks I'm badass.

"Gotta get ya a better knife," Daryl added.

That's when they heard the gun shot. Rosie jumped, turned around quickly, and saw Andrea leaning over Amy's dead dead body. Everyone else heard it too. They were all staring with wide eyes.

Andrea had waited for Amy to turn before killing her.

Rosie thought that was just cruel.

•

It felt disrespectful to go to a funeral in your normal, everyday clothes. When Rosie went to Fraser's funeral, she had to wear a black shirt and black pants. She was grateful her dad didn't make her wear a dress.

But this funeral was different. And every other funeral Rosie would ever go to was going to be different.

They all stood and watched Andrea put Amy into her grave. She refused any help anyone offered, claiming that she could do it herself, even though it looked like she was struggling. Her clothes were so covered in blood that they looked liked they'd been badly tie-dyed pink.

After the funeral, Rosie sat outside of the RV. She was surprised when Carl came and sat down right next to her. She was sure he ought to have hated her after she punched him.

Carl seemed a lot more sensitive about the whole thing with Amy and the others from camp who died. He knew Amy much better than Rosie did. He was also worried about Rick leaving again, but Rosie didn't know how to make him feel better, so she just shrugged.

"Do you think we should go to the CDC, like my dad says?" Carl asked Rosie. He was drawing in the dirt with a stick.

Rosie shrugged. "I don't know. They said we can't stay here though," she replied. She knew she had no choice on what to do. With her dad gone, every single adult seemed to think they had some sort of authority over Rosie and what she did. It was annoying.

"Yeah," Carl said. He waited a few moments before asking, "Was it scary? Killing those, um, walkers?"

She shrugged again, as if it were nothing. "I don't know. I had a gun, so I knew they weren't gonna get to me. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter," Rosie explained.

"You're not afraid of dying?" Carl asked, furrowing his eyebrows at the girl.

"No. Don't got anythin' to live for 'cept for myself," Rosie told him.

"Well, aren't you scared it'll hurt?"

"Yeah, but it'll only hurt for a lil' bit. Stop askin' me things," Rosie said before getting up and walking away, leaving Carl alone next to the RV.

A little while later, they were all gathered around the campfire. Rick and Shane came marching out of the woods together. "I've been thinking about Rick's plan," Shane announced.

Oh great. Deputy Dipshit's still in charge.

"Now look, there are no... there are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"

Rosie looked down at her boots. She wanted to leave sooner. She didn't want to be there anymore. She didn't want to look at that tent anymore. She didn't want any of it.