Dad decided that he isn't gonna keep the truck no more. We're leaving it behind and he's taking Merle's motorcycle instead, and I've gotta ride in the RV. He says it's to save on fuel, but I think he's really just sick of me riding with him. I cried and moped for too long. I probably got on his nerves. But I couldn't help it. It was my blankie. The one my momma gave to me. He doesn't understand.

Lots of people are in the RV with me, though, so that's good. T-Dog, Andrea, Glenn, Dale, Shane, and me are all in the RV. Sophia, Carl, Lori, Carol, and Rick are in another car. I kinda feel left out. I wish I could ride with them, but there ain't enough seats.

Now, I'm sitting next to Shane, trying to read some book Dale gave to me. It's about different types of birds. The problem is, I can't read half these words. Reading is another thing I'm bad at. I'm bad at a lot of school things. I'm just bad at a lot of things in general.

Shane's cleaning his gun and Andrea's watching him. I'm not paying any attention to the gun, though. I'm still just reading. Then, I get to another word I don't know. So I tap Shane's shoulder for about the millionth time in the past five minutes. He looks over at me, knowing what I'm about to ask.

"What's that word?" I ask him, pointing to the word I can't read.

He leans over and looks at it for just a moment before answering, "Vertebrate. It means animals that have spines."

"Thanks," I murmur, continuing on reading. It takes me a good few seconds to sound out any word with more than two syllables. I don't know how other people can just read it in less than a second.

I get through another sentence and a half before getting to another word I don't know. But before I can ask Shane, Dale brings the RV to a halt. "Oh, jeez," he says. I stand on my knees in the seat to see out the windshield. Looks like there's a big old traffic jam. My dad rides his motorcycle up next to Dale's window. "See a way through?" Dale asks.

Dad nods and goes around the RV. When he passes by my window, I wave at him because I feel a little bad for throwing a fit in the truck before and for thinking that I hate him, 'cause I don't. Not really. When he sees me, he gives me the teeniest, most unnoticeable smile I ever seen. But I see it now. I hope it means he ain't so mad at me no more. Anyway, he starts going through the big maze of cars and trucks and vans and buses.

"Uh, maybe we should just go back," Glenn suggests. He's on map duty. He's got the thing in his lap. It looks real confusing to me. "There's an interstate bypass-"

"We can't spare the fuel," Dale stops him immediately.

We don't got a lot of fuel. My dad had to use some tube to suck all the gas outta his truck before we left it. I don't know how it worked. It didn't make any sense to me, because it looked like a straw, but I know my dad wasn't putting no gasoline in his mouth. But I'm thinking that maybe we could take some gas from these cars, too. I'm about to suggest that, but then I think I better be quiet and stay outta the way so the adults can figure it out. They know what they're doing. I don't.

So we keep going through these broken down and abandoned cars. I'm looking out the window, but all I see are empty cars and cars full of dead people. I hate seeing that, so I look back at my book again. And just as I do, I jump at a sudden squealing sound. I put the book down and look through the windshield once again, only to see a bunch of smoke coming out of the front of the RV.

Dale's getting outta the RV now, so I follow along with everyone else. "I said it. Didn't I say it? A thousand times. Dead in the water," he mutters walking around to the front. He did say it. He said that darn radiator hose was more duct tape than hose, and that was a problem.

"Problem, Dale?" Shane asks.

"Just a small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of-" he pauses and takes a second to look around at where we are, "Ok. That was dumb."

"If you can't find a radiator hose here..." Shane says.

And here comes my dad. He starts going through one of the abandoned cars immediately. "There's a whole bunch a' stuff we can find," he says, taking an old, pink backpack out of the car.

He's wearing his angel-wing vest right now. I love that vest. I picked it out when I was little. Me and Merle, for Father's Day. I asked Merle for money because I was only little and had just about two quarters saved up, but Merle said no. He said he wasn't waisting no money on some Father's Day gift for Dad. But I told him I'd stop talking for however many days as he wanted, and that seemed to sell him. Because after that, we went to the store and I got to pick out a present. I picked that vest and Dad's been wearing it ever since. I had to be quiet around Merle for two whole weeks, but I think it was worth it.

Anyway, T-Dog goes to start siphoning fuel from the cars, like I was thinking we could do. And everyone else is tasked with finding food, water, and anything else we might want or need outta these cars. Lori didn't like the idea at first, but we're doing it anyway.

I'm just about to go along with Carl and Sophia when my dad stops me. He puts his hand on my shoulder. "C'mere. I wanna talk to you," he says as he begins leading me away from the rest of the group.

We get just about far enough that no one can hear us talking, and then Dad stops me and lifts me up onto the hood of a car. I hope I'm not in trouble. "I'm sorry for bein' a crybaby," I tell him, just in case I am in trouble.

"Nah. I'm sorry," Dad says, standing right in front of me. And now I'm real confused, so I furrow my eyebrows. I don't get what he's apologizing for. I was the one acting like a baby. But Dad's still apologizing. I'm just confused. Dad leans his hands on the hood of the car on either side of me. "Been thinkin' 'bout it," he says.

"'Bout what? You ain't done nothin'. It was me," I say.

"I shoulda' gone back for it, but I wanted to get you out as fast as I could. I know your momma gave you that blanket and I know it means a lot to ya. But your momma woulda' wanted me to get you out, too," Dad explains to me.

He's being real weird again. Like he was last night. "Are you drunk?" I ask him. I don't think he brought any of the wine with him, but he might've. And now he's being weird again, so it would only make sense.

"What?" Dad scoffs, furrowing his eyebrows. He stares at me for a second. "Why're you askin' me that?"

"'Cause you're bein' weird, like when you drank all that wine," I explain to him.

Dad does the thing where he stares at me for a few long moments, thinking real hard about something. "I ain't drunk," he eventually says. There goes that explanation. But I'm still confused. "I was bein' an asshole this mornin', I left your shit behind, and I yelled at you for cryin' 'bout it, so I'm sorry. A'right?"

I don't know what else to do other than to nod. All I can think about right now is how Dad never would've said something like this if Merle was still around. I don't say that, though. I just think it.

"You're not a crybaby," Dad says.

"Ok," I murmur.

Then, Dad sighs and rubs his face. "There's a pink backpack in the trunk a' that car I was goin' through before. You can take that, find stuff to put in it. Clothes, toys, books, I don't give a shit. Whatever ya want. Just don't go too far and don't go in any cars with dead people inside. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," I say, nodding my head. Dad steps outta my way so I can slide down off the hood of the car, and then he smooths my hair over as I go past him. He's been real confusing lately. I don't know what to say or do around him no more.

Anyway, I start going down the line of cars, peaking in through the windows. As soon as I find the pink backpack, I start looking for all sorts of things to put inside of it. I find a t-shirt with a frog on it, and I think it might be a boy's shirt, but I don't mind. I also find a girl's shirt with a rainbow on it. But I can't wear any of 'em until I find some pants. Not unless I wanna put one on over my dress, but that would look weird.

I'm just about to start searching through a suitcase that's got Lightning McQueen on it because I bet that there's some kids' clothes in there. But just as I start to unzip it, I hear Glenn and Shane whisper-shouting my name.

I spin around, looking for 'em, but I don't see nobody. In fact, every single person is gone. But I'm still hearing them whisper-shouting my name. Then, somebody grabs my arm from behind and I nearly shriek, but the person covers my mouth before I can.

I'm pulled down to the ground, and once we're down, I see that it was Glenn who grabbed me. He pushes me down underneath a truck. Shane's on my left and Glenn crawls in on my right.

"What?" I whisper to Glenn. I don't know what's going on. But Glenn doesn't say anything. So, I turn my head to ask Shane the same question, but when I look at Shane, I see he's got his finger up to his mouth, telling me to be quiet. He's got a real serious look on his face, so I know he ain't playing around. So I snap my mouth shut.

And then I start to hear it. The growling and hissing that only comes from one thing I know; a walker. There are tons of 'em. All stumbling towards us. I can only see their feet, but I can see so many of 'em. I wonder if my dad knows. I wonder if he's hiding, too. And Sophia and Carl and Dale and Rick and Lori and- and everyone. I'm scared for everyone.

One thing about me is that I'm a bit of a wimp when it comes to certain things. I didn't used to be that scared of walkers, 'cause I ain't ever had to kill one before. But then I had to kill the walker in the woods after the night of the fish fry. Now I'm way more scared. Right now, especially, because I'm scared that not everyone else knows.

Maybe my dad's about to get bit. Maybe Sophia is. Maybe Carl is. I can't stand it. I can't stand thinking about that. So I cover my ears and close my eyes. Even with my ears covered, I can still hear 'em. I want my dad. I want my momma.

I stay like that for what feels like forever. But in reality, it's only been a few minutes. I feel Shane's hand on my back, rubbing it a little. "You're ok, June. It's over," he says. So I open my eyes and uncover my ears. Right after Glenn, I climb out from under the truck, and Shane climbs out, too.

"Where's my dad?" I ask, looking all around. I don't see him.

"I'm sure he's 'round here somewhere," Shane tells me, looking around, too.

"I'll help you find him," Glenn says. We start walking along through the cars again, and I pick up my pink backpack when I pass it. I guess I'll go through the Lightning McQueen suitcase later because right now, I gotta find my dad. Glenn's being real careful, keeping me behind him and looking around for any stray walkers.

And then, my dad's voice starts calling my name. "June! June!" he's shouting.

"Dad!" I shout back, running to the sound of his voice.

Finally, I find him with T-Dog. Without even thinking about it, I run up to my dad and hug him real hard. He doesn't like hugging me- or anyone, really- very much, but I think he's ignoring that right now, 'cause he's letting me hug him.

"You ain't bit?" he asks me, rubbing my back up and down.

"Not bit," I tell him, taking a deep breath.

"Good. What I say 'bout not goin' too far?" Dad scolds, pushing me away from him so I'll look at his face. I don't say anything. He did say not to go too far, but how was I supposed to know how far was too far?

"Shane, Glenn, Daryl! I need you," Rick shouts from behind some guardrail.

"Shit," Dad mutters under his breath. He picks his crossbow up off the ground. "Stay with Lori. You do not leave her sight. Hear me?"

"Yes, sir," I say, nodding my head. He goes off with Rick, Glenn, and Shane.

I turn to Lori, and that's when I notice that Carol is standing next to her, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. "My baby! Oh, my baby!" she's crying, hiding her face in her hands.

Lori's right beside her, rubbing her back comfortingly and saying, "They're gonna find her. They will."

Carl's behind his mom, and he's got this real worried look on his face. "What happened?" I ask him, my eyebrows pinched together. Now I'm getting worried, too, 'cause Carol's crying for her baby and Sophia ain't here.

"Two walkers were chasing her. She ran away. Now they can't find her," Carl explains solemnly.

Oh, no. Carol must be worried sick. I bet my momma would be real worried if I went missing like that. I mean, I don't know for sure, 'cause if I went missing, she probably wouldn't know until after I was already found. 'Cause I only got to visit her every couple of months. But I bet she'd be worried. I'm worried for Sophia, too.

Hearing Carol crying makes me feel really, really bad, so I try to comfort her. "I bet my dad will find her, ma'am. He's the best tracker in the whole world," I tell her. I'm not sure if I should call her Carol or ma'am because I haven't really talked to her that much. I don't know what she prefers.

Despite my attempt at comforting her, Carol just keeps crying. Crying and crying and crying.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Why don't you keep searching through the cars, huh?" Lori says, giving me a tight-lipped smile that I can tell is fake. She's tryna get me to go away because I'm not making Carol feel any better. I don't mind, though. Sometimes people just wanna be left alone.

So I nod and walk away. I stay in Lori's sight, just like I'm supposed to. I go through that Lightning McQueen suitcase and I find some Spider-man pajamas and a blue t-shirt that will both fit me. There's also a little toy spaceship in the bag, so I take that, too.

Just as I finish going through the Lightning McQueen suitcase, Glenn and Shane get back to the highway. They tell Carol that they still ain't found Sophia, but Daryl and Rick are following her tracks. For now, we just gotta keep going through cars and clearing a path for the RV to go through. Part of me thinks we should all be out looking for Sophia, but I know the adults know better than I do, so I keep my mouth shut.

It's almost a full two hours later, I think, when Dad and Rick come back to the highway. The bad news is Sophia ain't with them. My dad couldn't find her. They've both got blood on their clothes. That is really, really bad. I feel like crying, but I don't because I've already done enough of that. Dad says I ain't a crybaby, but I feel like one.

Carol's crying. She's not a crybaby, though. She's a worried, loving momma. She's got every right to cry right now. "You didn't find her?" she asks, her voice breaking.

"Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light," Rick tells her as he climbs over the guardrail. I'm not looking at him, though. I'm looking at the blood on my dad's shirt, wondering where it's from.

"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the woods," Carol says, shaking her head. Her voice is wobbling up and down.

"Out in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost," Dad explains, using a soft, careful voice that I almost never, ever hear.

"But she's 12. She can't be out there on her own. You didn't find anything?" Carol asks them both. The way her voice sounds makes my chest feel weird. Like my heart is falling down to my feet.

"I know this is hard. But I'm asking you not to panic," Rick says. He's talking like a cop talks when he's telling someone real bad news. Like he's sympathetic, but he means business and he's speaking with honesty. "We know she was out there," Rick adds. That's a given.

Dad steps closer to the rail, his eyebrows pinched together. "And we tracked her for a while," he says, still using that soft voice.

"We have to make this an organized effort. Daryl knows the woods better than anybody. I've asked him to oversee this," Rick explains to us all. He's right. My dad knows all about the woods. He used to go on hunting trips with my grandpa. I barely ever got to go with because Dad never liked me being around Grandpa.

Even though Rick was the one talking, Carol's been looking at my dad. I think she spotted what I spotted earlier. "Is that blood?" she asks.

It's quiet for a good, long moment before Rick says, "We took down a walker."

"Walker? Oh, my God," Carol breathes out.

"There was no sign it was ever anywhere near Sophia," Rick assured her, trying to look her in the eyes.

"How can you know that?" Andrea asks.

Rick looks at my dad, making him answer instead of answering himself. "We cut the son of a bitch open. Made sure," Dad says. I cringe just thinking about that. My dad gutting a dead human.

"Oh, God," Carol says. She sits down on the guardrail, breathing real heavy, then she looks at Rick. "How could you just leave her out there to begin with? How could you just leave her?!"

"Those two walkers were on us. I had to draw 'em off. It was her best chance," Rick tells her, bending down to meet her eye level.

"How was she supposed to find her way back on her own? She's just a child. She's just a child," Carol cries.

"It was my only option. The only choice I could make," Rick insists. I hate this. I want Sophia to come back. I want to find her now, so then this can all be over.

"I'm sure nobody doubts that," Shane adds, leaning on the guardrail.

But Carol just keeps crying. "My little girl got left in the woods," she says.

Dad climbs over the guardrail and puts his hand on the back of my head. He starts pushing me, getting me to walk, so I go with him.

"Do you think you'll find her, Dad?" I ask as we go.

"I hope so, Juni," Dad says, running his hand through my hair. I furrow my eyebrows and look up at his face because, there he goes, being weird again. He glances down at me. "What?" he asks.

"Only Merle called me that," I tell him.

Dad scoffs out a laugh. "I named you. I can call ya what I wanna call ya," he says. I guess that's true. He did name me. "C'mon. We're gonna cover the windows on one a' these cars, sleep in there. RV ain't big enough for all of us," Dad explains.

So we spend the next half hour finding blankets and paper and cardboard and whatever else we can find to cover up the windows. If any walkers come along, we don't want 'em to see us in the car and start banging on the glass. Then we'll be trapped.

By the time we're all set up and have helped everyone else set up, too, the sun has already gone down. Dad leans back the passenger seat of the car and lays there while I lay across the backseat.

I'm trying really, really, really hard to fall asleep. I'm even counting sheep that I can't even actually see. I'm just doing it because people do it in movies. But it ain't working. Not even a little bit.

Ever since I was a teeny-tiny little baby, I've always, always had my blankie with me while I slept. I've never even tried sleeping without it. Merle always said I'd get made fun of if I brought it to a sleepover, but I've never been to a sleepover, anyway, so it don't even matter. I've always had it. And now I don't. Now I don't have it and I can't sleep because of it.

Plus, I used to have medicine that helped me sleep. Can't remember what it was called, but I think it started with an M. I've had to get used to not having that no more, ever since we left home. And now my blankie being gone is just making it even harder.

Feels like it's been hours. Maybe it has been. I can't tell if my dad is awake or asleep. I bet he's sleeping already. He don't need some stupid blanket to sleep. Lucky him.

After a while, I give up. I'm not gonna get any sleep. There's no point just laying here doing nothing. So I sit up and pull the cover on the roof window back. I don't know what it's actually called, but this car has a window on the roof of it, which is really, really cool. I wish Dad's truck woulda' had that. This way, I can see the stars.

"Baby, please just go to sleep," my dad suddenly says, making me jump. I thought he was sleeping. And he called me a different name again. And he ain't even drunk.

He reaches his arm up and closes the shade on the roof window and I plop back down onto the back seat. "I can't," I tell him.

"Try," he says.

"I been tryin'. I swear, Dad," I tell him. It's so frustrating that I feel like crying again. I really am a crybaby, no matter what Dad has to say about it.

"Gettin' up and lookin' out the window ain't tryin'," Dad says, pressing his pointer finger and thumb into his eyes.

"I'm just not tired," I say, shrugging. I really do feel tired, though. But my brain won't stop running.

"Yes, you are," Dad says. He just knows things, sometimes. Sometimes he can read my mind. It's freaky. "You need to sleep, Juniper," he tells me.

"I can't, Dad," I tell him.

"June, I'm not play-" Dad suddenly stops and cuts himself off. He sighs and presses his hands into his eyes. I thought he was gonna get mad. I can't tell what he's doing. "Come up here," he eventually says.

I'm scared I'm in trouble, but I do what he says, anyway, because trying to avoid a punishment only makes him mad. So I climb up into the driver's seat, like he said.

"Lean the seat back," he tells me. I think that means I'm not in trouble. I don't know. He's being really confusing. I just do what he says and lean the seat back. "Now lay down and go to sleep," Dad says.

"I've been tryin', Daddy," I complain, huffing out a sigh.

"Just try again," Dad insists.

I huff one more time before crossing my arms and laying back in the seat. Only a second later, I feel Dad's hand on my head. He starts rubbing his thumb up and down, up and down, up and down just like he did last night. I feel like crying again. I just feel so confused. I don't get it. I don't get him. Was it not just because he was drunk? Or does he just feel bad for leaving my stuff behind? I don't understand.

He just wants me to shut up and go to sleep, I bet.