CHAPTER FIFTEEN,
for whom the bell tolls

HELL WAS A fierce word. It bothered Samantha that people felt the need to invent a blazing inferno of fire and brimstone, endless torture and suffering. She had been reading The Devine Comedy she managed to take from the CDC, and according to Dante's philosophy, true hell is where ones mistakes brought them suffering.

She could see in hell in Nathan's eyes, but it slowly spread towards Carol Peletier. What they are going through - that's the true meaning of hell.

Standing next to Carol, Samantha gazed at her. All the tears that had trailed down the mother's cheeks had soon dried out, leaving nothing but old trails of the misery she was going through. "We'll find her." She assured, trying to hard to smile.

The look on the Carol's face was heartbreaking. "She's just a little girl." She uttered. Nathan glanced at her, the first time he's looked away from the trees since he came from searching with Daryl and the others.

"She's brave, ma'am," Nate spoke up, a smile on his face that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Braver than you think. You're gonna see her again, I'll make sure of that."

Something in the woman's eyes seemed to shift, a singular emotion forming that Samantha has seen and felt before. Resentment. Nathan noticed immediately because every inch of his face completely stopped, Carol making him go still.

"You were supposed to make sure she was safe," She said, a cold edge in her tone. "But you left her, you left my baby alone in this world."

Nathan didn't say anything, her words consuming him and swallowing him whole. With a glare, she turned and left. The soldier's jaw was clenched and his eyes were impassive, but on the inside he was having a war within himself. He wish could rip off his skin and wear another's, he wish his God would give him peace with his mind - but maybe Nathan wasn't so deserving.

"Nate-"

"Don't," His harshness slapped her in the face. "She's right."

Samantha didn't know how to change his mind, how to clear his dark path full self hatred and guilt. He was too deep, too far gone in his own battles that maybe he needed to find himself before she could.

"Oh god, they're back." Glenn's voice fell to her ears as Rick and Daryl came out of the woods - but there was no Sophia with them.

"You didn't find her?" Carol whispered, hysteria rising in her voice.

"We did everything we could. We'll pick it up again at first light." Rick promised.

"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own!" Carol cried. "To spend the night, alone in the woods!"

Samantha scanned Daryl. He looked exhausted and dirty, his crossbow slung tiredly over his shoulder.
"Out in the dark's no good. We'd be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost." Daryl reasoned.

Carol begun to sob. "But she's twelve! She can't be out there on her own. You didn't find anything?!"

"I know this is hard, but I'm asking you not to panic," Rick pleaded as Lori slid an arm over the mother's shoulder. "We know she was out there."

"And we tracked her for awhile." Daryl added.

They begun to explain more, but Carol wasn't listening. Samantha saw her eyes trail to their bloody clothes."Is that blood?" She whispered frantically.

"We took down a walker." Rick admitted.

"A walker? Oh my, god!" Carol gasped in horror.

"There was no sign it was ever anywhere near Sophia." Rick assured.

"How can you know that?" Andrea asked.

Samantha glared at the blonde. "You really want to say that now?" She hissed.

"We cut the son of a bitch to make sure." Daryl elaborated.

For a moment they were silent, until the twenty year old caught that same resentment Carol had for Nathan not too long ago form in her eyes again, this time aimed at Rick.

"How could you just leave her out there to begin with?" She spat. "How could you just leave her?!"

"Those two walkers were on us. I had to draw them off."

"There was two of you though," She continued, her eyes darting from Nathan to Rick. "How could you just leave my baby?!"

"Its my fault, Rick told me to stay but I wanted to help." Nathan reasoned.

Surprisingly, Shane stood up for him, "They were both only doing what they thought was best for her."

"How is she supposed to find her way back?" Carol sobbed, her watery glare never faltering. "She's just a child!"

"It was my only option. We tried!" Rick begged her.

"Nobody doubts that." Shane added.

The next sentence Carol spoke broke Samantha heart, it being the words of a broken mister,

"My little girl got left in the woods."

━━━━━

When Carol's silent sobs finally ceased, Samantha tried to let sleep take over, but fate had other plans. Her mind was restless, either from her insomnia, her anxieties - or maybe both, she couldn't decide.

She could faintly hear the crickets outside, the slight sound of trees rustling as the wind passed through them. Even if everyone else was dead, the night was still very much alive. Finally giving into the thought of not getting any sleep, Samantha stood.

The RV was stuffy, full of people and the smell of sweat. It was almost hard to breathe, so slowly she crept to the door.

Opening the door silently, the smell hit her nostrils and Samantha gagged. She knew what it was. She's known it for years, it was the familiar stench that belonged to a wrinkled toxic stick that she's grown to hate. It invaded her lungs, burning them, and she let out a cough and looked to the side of the RV.

"I've always hated that smell," She spoke to him, closing the door behind her. "My grandmother used to smoke them all the time, so did my ex. It's something I've never grown to like, y'know?" She stopped herself before she continued, realizing she had been rambling and exposed herself. Her skin was burning, as if he were using Samantha as an ashtray again.

Daryl Dixon gazed at her and pulled the cigarette from his lips, his other hand holding his beloved crossbow. She stood next to him and he shuffled in his spot, growing awkward with her shoulder almost touching is - so he trained his eyes onto the trees, watching, waiting for the little girl that got lost in the woods.

The moon was big and bright, casting down upon them like a great illumnous pearl. It soothed her head, making her think rationally and she realized she hasn't thanked him yet for her life, twice. They were close, yet he's saved her - they weren't close, yet she knew his deepest secret.

"Thank you." She finally pushed out, swallowing the saliva that had built up in the barrens of her mouth.

Daryl looked at her, eyeing the Walsh girl with a questionable stare. "Ain't gotta thank me," He assured her gruffly. "Was doing mighty fine without ya gratitude."

Instead of a glare (which he expected) she only smiled at him. "You saved me twice, of course I'm going to thank you whether you like it or not."

She remembered what happened at the CDC, every detail able to be easily grabbed onto. For the little time she's known him, maybe she truly sees him. Not what's on the surface, but underneath the tough front he puts up. He wasn't just Merle's brother, Daryl was more than a redneck - and she thinks she just finally found that out.

"I was self destructive when I was a teenager," Samantha spoke softly, staring at the side of his face. Daryl looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "I felt so empty, so I did anything to feel anything to not feel that void," At first, she couldn't understand why she was opening up to him because her and Daryl would've been considered strangers, but she needed him to who she was, that he didn't have to be alone.

"My ex boyfriend, Casey, had this void too and that's what drew me towards him," She continued, shame prickling her skin and turning her insides. "He liked cigarettes too, and he used that including everything else against me, and one day Shane saw and," She paused, still able to smell the burning flesh. It was an awful stench. "Shane called it self defense, and Casey went the jail."

But he didn't stay in jail for long, eventually having a second chance in another relationship - but he ended up in prison after he killed his girlfriend in a domestic dispute. Samantha sometimes wonder if that could've been her if Shane never showed up when he did, and the thought haunts her.

Her hands ran up and down her tattoos. "See these? I got them after everything to cover up the scars my last. I was so ashamed, I didn't want to be painted as a victim," She looked at him, to see that he was already looking at her. "Until I realized scars don't tell the story of a victim, but a survivor."

Daryl shifted his weight, his gaze back at the darkened trees and the cigarette in between his fingers. Samantha wanted him to know that he didn't needed to be ashamed of his past, of his scars, of everything.

Not only did she have his secret, he had hers too.

And maybe that's why after she went back into the RV, he put his cigarette out.

━━━━━

"Sammy, is Shane mad at me?"

Carl Grimes tugged at his godmother's hand and caused her to look down at him with concern. She glanced at the others to make sure they werent in earshot.

"I don't think he's mad at you, why would you believe that?" Carl's face fell and she glanced at the group again, before she kneeled down to his level with an assuring smile. "He's not mad at you, midget - he's probably mad at himself."

Confusion twisted his small features. "Why would he be mad at himself?" He questioned.

Samantha pondered for a moment, her eyes trailing to that of Lori Grimes before looking back at her godson again. "Adult things," She responded softly. "He's going through his own thing right now - we all are."

With a nodding of his head, they caught up with the group and she hurried next to Shane. He glanced at Carl and back at his sister quizzically. "What was that about?"

She only responded with a mere shrug, and before he could press more into the conversation their steps stopped at the sight of a tent.

The survivors ground down, glancing around the surrounding area for walkers. "She could be here." Rick commented.

"There could be a bunch of things in there." Daryl retorted, crossbow raised. At this Samantha raised her own firearm, watching as Daryl investigated the tent. A few moments later he returned and sent the group a shrug.

"Carol," Rick called and immediately she rushed forward, "Call out softly. If she's there, yours is the first voice she should hear."

The broken mother begin to call out to her lost daughter desperately as Daryl slowly unzipped the tent. Samantha could see the sweat dripping down and from his forehead, his hair messy and unruly. As soon as the flap was opened, a deadly smell filled the area and her stomach twisted. There was without a doubt a dead body in there.

Daryl slipped into the tent wordlessly, Rick and Shane attempting to follow but only ended up in a gagging fit. "It ain't her." He announced, coming out with a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"What's in there?"

"Some guy," Daryl answered. "Did what Jenner said."

"Opted out?" Samantha questioned.

Daryl scanned her face for a moment and nodded.

As disappoint and sweat layered the survivors skin, sudden church bells ripped through the silence and echoed around the trees. Determination pumped Nathan's heart and he took off running, the guilt that consumed him being his motivation to find her. The others ran after him, calling out to him, but he completely blocked out their voices.

They broke through the tree line and there stood a church, the sight making a twitch of a smile on the soldier's face. This had to be a sign from God - she had to be in there.

He rushed up to the steps, ignoring Rick's orders and he bursted through, a wave of rot hitting his nose and he gagged, looking at the pews where figures sat - but they turned, their skin dead and their teeth bared.
"Fuck." He cursed, the others catching up to him quickly.

Samantha stood next to her brother and pulled out her dagger, using all of the strength she had in her muscle to throw it into the nearest walker. It fell to the ground and she ripped it out - throwing it towards Shane who swiftly caught it, plunging it into a walker's head.

She had grown so accustomed killing things that, that it was sort've comic. A few months ago she would've never thought of killing things, especially the dead - yet here she was, a zombie killer.

The others took out the rest, there still being no sign of the lost Sophia. Shane handed his baby sister her dagger back, and the two shared a nod.

Daryl stood in front of a Jesus statue. "Yo, JC, taking request?" He mocked.

More bells ringed into the area, the survivors exchanging confused glances and charged to the outside. Nathan had made it before them, and when they came to the side of the church he was ripping through the wires of an outlet. "Shut up!" He snapped, slamming the door to it shut with frustration burning in his eyes.

"A timer. It's on a timer." Daryl rasped.

Carol glanced at the doors to the church. "I'm going to go in for a bit." When she did, Nathan hesitantly followed inside, deciding he needed to let some demons off his chest, the silence to ask for forgiveness for his sins.

His best friend loomed outside, eying the all powerful building. Samantha hadn't been to church since Jean, but she could remember when she did. She was forced to wear pretty dresses and forced to look pretty - forced to be someone else.

Jean wanted her so badly to be not like her brother, a big disappointment as she called him. Samantha was her grandmother's final hope of relieving her from that, but after she died - she didn't continue the routine.

Anything that involves religion reminded Samantha of Jean, her beliefs worn on her like a crown. She was so rooted to them that she made young Samantha Walsh read verse from verse, imprinting the words into her brain. Soon, she grown to hate the very thing that her grandmother loved the most - her faith, something that has caused wars and has caused murders and prejudices. Why would people bleed for something so destructive?

Samantha entered the building and caught Carol praying at the statue - and from one of the pews behind her sat Nathan. He was bent over, hands clasped together so tightly that his skin begun to whiten.

Her brows furrowed and she moved to the front of the pew, the thing he's doing being so foreign to her. Nathan wasn't religious, he wasn't a godly man, so why was he doing this?

"What are you doing?" Her voice ripped through his silence and disturbed the words that he whispered under his breath.

Nathan opened his eyes and craned his neck to look at her. "I'm praying." He replied.

"You never told me." She whispered.

Nathan bit his lip. "I know how much you hate it," He opened his hands and in them was a cross, her reflection in the silver of it. "Out of everyone in my family, I'm the only one that begs for miracles, that believes."

Her best friend having to hide something so dear just for her - it didn't make her feel good, not sitting right in her stomach.

Samantha rubbed her head. "And you're praying for Sophia?"

He nodded, frowning. "Not just for her but for everything else," Nate glanced at the statue of Christ, and then he averted his gaze away. "I'm so sorry for what's been happening between us, Ive just been going through so much and I-"

He cut himself off when she gripped his hand. Nathan stared at them for a moment before meeting her eyes. "You're my best friend, we're supposed to tell each other these things. I don't want you to have to deal with this alone," She stated softly. "We're in this together, Sergeant dickhead."

Nathan released a laugh, it coming out so genuine it spread to her and made her smile, hearing something almost happy coming out of her best friend because contagious. "Until the very end you're my best friend, princess," He agreed, smiling a genuine smile too. "This whole thing is reminding me of that one Metallica song-"

"For Whom the Bells Tolls."

Not too long later the group separated and continued their search. The green was never ending, the leaves crunching beneath their feet, Samantha was with her brother as they delve deeper into the trees.

Shane glanced at his sister and chuckled. "This reminds me of the time I took Sammy camping." He mused.

Samantha furrowed her brows. "Which time?" She questioned.

"Labor day weekend."

Her eyes widened, the memories resurfacing. "Shane, they don't need to know." She stated.

"Wait, I wanna know!" Carl retorted curiously.

"Sam demanded for her very own tent, so me being a great big brother, I gave her what she wanted," Shane started, smiling in reminisce. "She hated roaches, so when she woke up and found one crawling on her, she ran butt naked through the woods and into another camper's tent - her principal."

Rick started laughing. "I remember that! Y'all came over in the middle of the night all dirty and full of fright."

"She also didn't go to school for a week." Shane added with a laugh.

"Why were you naked?" Carl asked, pursing his lips to hide his wide smile.

"It gets hot," Samantha reasoned, huffing before shooting Shane a look. "If we're talking about stories, lets talk about the time you almost got bit by a snake."

It was his turn to be confused."I never almost got bit by a snake."

"You were wasted, you went to go take a leak and a snake almost bit your-"

Before she could finish a twig snapped and her godson gripped her hand out of instinct, both his father and Samantha's brother stepping forward protectively - but it wasn't a walker.

The deer sniffed innocently at the ground, stepping out into the clearing. Samantha glanced at Rick and saw his expression had contorted into bliss, as if his prayers had been finally answered.

Shane still raised his gun but Samantha whispered his name, placing her free hand onto his forearm and shaking her head. The moment was too pure to be ruined, too pure to be living in a world like this yet they had stumbled upon it.

Carl tugged at her hand, pulling her forward quietly, his smile large and causing his godmother to smile as well. The deer was a symbol of hope, a sign that life still roamed the world even though the dead had risen.

The sound of a twig snapping under Carl's feet caught the attention of the animal, it's black eyes peering over at them with curiosity. For a second, all three of them connected - nature and human kind, and Samantha remembered Jim's words, the same ones she had used back at the CDC.

"Where there's life, there's hope."

Then there was a gunshot.

words ; 3321
edited ; ✔️