Dad's pacing around in the back of the cube van and Glenn's waiting in the driver's seat. I'm sitting at the edge of the back with my legs dangling over the edge. I'm feeling a bit nervous about my dad going off into Atlanta, but I know he's gotta because if he doesn't, then we ain't ever gonna get Merle back. I just wish it was safer. 'Cause if he don't come back, I don't know what I'll do. But he'll come back. He's gotta. Merle didn't, though. And I can't stop thinking about that.

"Dad," I say, because there's no other way to get myself to stop thinking about it this time.

He's still pacing around in circles, all antsy to go and get Merle. "What?" he asks me.

"I'm nervous 'bout you goin'," I admit to him with my eyebrows pinched together. He finally stops his pacing and looks down at me. "'Cause it's dangerous there. I told Merle not to go and he did, anyway, and now he's stuck," I say. He's doing that thing where he stares at me, thinking real hard for a few moments, and I'm looking at my shoes.

Then, he does something I don't expect. He sits down at the back of the cube van with me, right by my side. He knocks his foot into mine to make me look over at him. "I promise you I'mma be back, a'right?" he says.

"Merle said he'd be back, too. He said he'd be back 'fore you were," I say quietly. I know my dad doesn't like it when I talk back, but I don't know if this counts as that or not, so I take the risk, anyway.

Luckily, he doesn't get mad at me. "I'm promisin' you, I'mma be back," he says. I look down at my shoes again because I don't know if he can even make that promise. 'Cause he don't know if he can keep it. Maybe just Merle will come back. Maybe Dad will get bit or maybe he'll get killed. Or maybe he won't find Merle and he'll never come back, 'cause he'll just keep looking for Merle. I wanna tell him that, but I don't, because I know that'd probably make him feel bad. "June," Dad says, knockin' his foot into mine for a second time. I look at him again. I think he can read my mind, 'cause the next thing he says is, "I'm comin' back, with or without Merle. I swear to you," Dad says.

My dad's not very good and making people feel better, usually, so I give him the benefit of the doubt. "Ok," I say. I want to hug him because I'm scared that I ain't ever gonna hug him again, but I don't. I don't because I know he doesn't want me to.

"Ok," he says, too. He puts his hand on my head and smooths over my hair before getting back up. "Don't forget to finish skinnin' them squirrels," he reminds me as he's standing up. Then, he marches up to the front of the van and uses his foot to honk on the horn. "Come on! Let's go!" he shouts.

I slide off of the back of the van as Rick comes walking over. Shane follows him and starts telling him 'bout how he thinks this is a real bad idea. I'm watching them talk as I'm leaning up against the back of Shane's black Jeep, and Shane's giving Rick some bullets.

Earlier, Shane was saying that he doesn't think Merle's worth all the fuss. The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dyin' of thirst, he said. Uncle Merle always gave me water when I said I was thirsty, but I don't think he would give it to any of the people at this camp. Especially not Shane. Shane called Merle a douchebag. I've heard that word before, but I ain't exactly sure what it means. I just know it ain't good. Anyway, when Shane's done talking to Rick, he comes over and stands by me, leaning up against his Jeep.

When Rick climbs into the passenger seat of the van, Dad comes back to pull the door down. I give him a smile, even though I'm not real happy right now, and wave. He nods as he pulls the door down and Glenn starts driving him away to the city full a' dead people.

Once the door is closed and they're all driving away, Shane puts his hand on my head like he often does with Carl. "Sorry 'bout all this, kiddo," he says, sounding both annoyed and disappointed.

"It's ok. Dad needs Merle. He's his brother," I say, digging the toe of my sneakers into the dirt.

"You're his daughter. You need him more than he needs Merle. I can guarantee that," Shane says, sounding even more annoyed than before. We're both quiet for a moment, and then he scoffs and lets out a chuckle that don't sound like a happy one. Then he runs his hand through his hair and pats my back once. "Alright, why don't you get them squirrels done so you can come catch some frogs with me and Carl. I'll help you. Maybe we can teach Carl a thing or two 'bout skinnin'," he says.

My fake, small smile grows a little more genuine and a little more wide because I really like catching frogs. "Yeah," I say, nodding my head. I was teaching Carl to hunt just this morning, and now I'll get to teach him to skin.

"Alright," he says enthusiastically. We start walking over to where my dad left the squirrels and one of his knives out for me and sit down on some logs. At first, I grab the smallest squirrel because I know it'll be easier, but then I'm thinking 'bout Carl helping us and I think he should probably get the easiest squirrel, so I take a different one. "You get started. I'mma go find Carl," Shane says.

The first time I skinned anything was with Uncle Merle. He was babysitting while Dad was at work and he decided that five years old was old enough to be skinning rabbits. I ended up cutting my hand real bad and had to get stitches. Dad was real mad at Merle that day for a lot of reasons. Obviously, 'cause I had to get stitches, but also because getting those stitches costed lots of money and Dad wanted to teach me how to skin. I remember crying and crying 'cause my hand hurt so bad. Dad let me sleep in his bed that night. I ain't done that in a real long time. Thinking 'bout this makes me worry 'bout my dad again, so I try thinking 'bout something else.

Squirrels. What else about squirrels? They like nuts and acorns. I'm allergic to peanuts. That was another hospital bill that costed lots of money.  I got to go to Cracker Barrel with just Dad when I was four. We had to leave before we even got to order, though, because I ate one of the peanuts they gave us and I couldn't breathe. My face got all red and itchy and I felt like I was dying. Dad panicked and grabbed me and ran outta the restaurant. Then he drove all fast and crazy to the hospital and I felt like I was gonna pass out. The people at the hospital helped me, though. I got to sleep in Dad's bed that night, too.

Man, I hope he'll be ok.

"Hi, June," Carl says, sitting down on the log across from me. Shane sits down next to me and takes a squirrel off the rope that Dad threw at Rick. I toss the smallest one onto Carl's lap.

"Hi, Carl," I say, giving him a polite smile. Shane hands him a knife. I'm already half way done with my squirrel.

"You're pretty quick at that, there, June," Shane says, gesturing to my hands, which are working away.

"Thanks. I got lots a' practice," I say. Shane doesn't seem to like that I got lots a' practice. He thinks I oughta be doing more kid stuff instead of skinning squirrels for my dad. But he's trying to make it fun by having Carl help.

He starts teaching Carl how to skin his squirrel, which takes a real long time. By the time Carl's done skinning his, me and Shane have already finished the whole rope full of 'em. It's alright, though, because Carl's good company. He's always got lots of stories to tell me 'bout his friends at school and everything.

Anyway, when we're done skinning all the squirrels, we go down to the quarry to catch some frogs. Shane says that we're catching them because we're gonna eat frog legs. I hope he doesn't make me try any 'cause that sounds real gross. Carl and Shane got their pant legs rolled up high, almost like they're shorts, but I can't roll up my pant legs 'cause I'm wearing a dress. I got shorts on underneath, though.

I only got a few dresses right now, 'cause most of 'em are sitting in my closet at home and I'm probably never gonna see 'em again. When we were rushing to get stuff thrown into the truck, Dad was throwing shorts and t-shirts into my bag, but I grabbed a few dresses 'cause I like 'em a lot. Dad says I dress like an old lady. But whenever we go to Goodwill to get me some new clothes, he lets me pick what I want and I like the old-lady-lookin' dresses the best. They remind me of the book Heidi. I like that book lots. Dad doesn't care as long as I got clothes that fit me.

But now my dress is getting all wet as me and Carl are splashing around, looking for frogs. I don't mind. I got other clothes to change into when we're done. Me and Carl are jumping around after frogs for awhile, but we still don't catch any. So far, I've only even seen two. I thought there'd be more.

"I'm not getting anything," Carl says solemnly. He plops himself down on one of the rocks and stares at the water, waiting for a frog. But still, no frogs come jumping out.

"Me neither," I say, kicking my feet around in the water.

"Yeah. Bein' all wily, stayin' submerged. Little suckers, they know something's up. That's what's goin' on," Shane says. He's the frog-catching expert, apparently, so I believe him. He gets his big, clanky bucket and walked into the water again. "Just gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way. Alright, look, you two are the key in all this, ok? All I'm gonna do is I'm gonna go after one of 'em, alright, scare the rest of 'em off. They're all gonna scatter. I'm gonna drive 'em your way. 'Kay?" Shane explains.

"Ok," me and Carl say at the same time, getting all excited.

"Ok. What I need you to do is you need to round up every bad boy you see, alright? Are you with me? You with me?" Shane asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Carl says, his smile growing.

"Yes, sir," I say, nodding and bouncing up and down.

"Hells yeah. Gimme your mean face," Shane says. Then he bares his teeth and makes a growling noise and Carl does, too. I'm just raising my eyebrows and trying not to laugh at them, 'cause I don't even think I can make a mean face right now if I tried. I'm feelin' too smiley. "C'mon, girl!" Shane's egging me on, tryna get me to make a face like him. "I said your mean face!"

I can't help but start giggling. I bring my hands up to cover my face until I can stop. Then I lower my hands and give him the best mean face I can manage.

"Atta girl," Shane says, smiling at me. My mean face only lasts for a second longer 'cause, before I know it, I'm giggling again. "Alright. You ready?" Shane asks me and Carl.

"Yeah!" Carl shouts. I nod along with him.

"Alright, here we go," Shane says, getting his bucket ready in his hands. He raises the bucket and everything's quiet for a moment. Me and Carl are waiting and Shane's looking at us and then back at the water.

Then, slowly, he spots a frog. He sinks his bucket under the water and starts splashing around, scaring off all the frogs from him. He tells us that they're all coming our way and Carl starts swinging his net around while I'm trying to grab the frogs with my bare hands, 'cause I don't got no net. Shane keeps splashing in the water and me and Carl keep laughing, but we ain't really catching any frogs.

After maybe thirty seconds of Shane splashin' around and me and Carl going after all the frogs, I slip and fall back on my butt, getting me all soaked with water. Carl starts laughing at me and now I'm laughing at myself, too.

"Alright, what do you two got? What do you got?" Shane says quickly, wading over to us.

My hands don't got no frogs in 'em, so I hold my hands out to my sides, showing that I've got nothing. Carl lifts his net outta the water to reveal that he's got nothing, too. "Dirt," he sighs.

"Oh boy. Alright, we gotta start over. C'mon. Let's find this bucket," Shane says. Me and him and Carl all go searching through the shiny, blue water, looking for that clanky bucket. I can hear the women over on the other side, laughing 'bout something and I'm wondering what they're laughing for. Maybe they're laughing at us. I'm sure we look real goofy right about now.

I'm waving my arms through the water, waiting to find the bucket when my hand hits on something. It ain't the bucket. It's smaller. And then it moves. And then I look down at the water and I see a frog jumping by my hand. I jump forward and grab the frog with both my hands, tryna make sure the slippery little guy don't get away.

"I gotta frog! Shane, look! Look!" I exclaim, proudly holding my frog out in front of me.

"Atta girl!" Shane says, patting my back. He's got the bucket in his hand, now, so I guess he found it.

"Cool. Can I hold it?" Carl asks me, peeking at the frog in my hands. I nod and open up my hands just a little bit so Carl can grab the frog. But just as I open my hands, the thing goes jumping off into the water. Carl groans and tosses his head back. "Dang it," he says.

"We can probably catch another if we keep tryin'. Then you can hold that one," I say, tryna make him feel better.

"Hey, Carl," Lori's voice calls out. We all spin around to see her walking down the path to us. "What did I tell you about not leaving Dale's sight?"

"But Shane said we could catch frogs, remember?" Carl says, squinting his eyes from the sun. Shane's avoiding eye contact with Lori. I don't know why. They been acting weird since yesterday. I think it's got somethin' to do with Rick. I don't know for sure, though.

"It doesn't matter what Shane says. it matters what I say. Go on back to camp," Lori says, nodding her head up the hill. Carl sighs, but gets up and does as he's told, anyway. "I'll be right behind you," Lori tells him.

Shane starts running his hand through his hair again. He glances at me and then at Lori. "Why don't you go on and head back to camp, too, June," he says to me. I don't really wanna go back to camp right now because catching frogs has been a real good distraction. But I grab my shoes, anyway, because I know better than to disobey.

As I'm walking away, I can hear Shane and Lori arguing. I think I was right about it being about Rick, 'cause I hear Lori say my husband. I'm doing as I'm told and going back to camp, but I'm dragging my feet. Not because I wanna eavesdrop, but because I wanna stay down at the quarry. I'm thinking that maybe, when Shane's done arguing with Lori, he'll say we can stay at the quarry.

But as I'm walking, something else catches my attention. I hear Ed Peletier yelling about something, so I snap my head in the direction of his voice. Just then, I see him smack Carol right across her face. She's with a lot of the other women, washing clothes by the water. They're all freaking out at Ed and I wish I could tell 'em that it's only gonna make Ed angrier, but I know better than to go sticking my nose into other people's business.

Behind me, I hear rocks crunching real fast. I turn and I see Shane marching real fast and real angry toward the woman. He passes me and I can feel how angry he is. When he gets down there, he grabs Ed by the shirt and starts dragging him away from the women. And then he beats him and beats him and beats him and beats him. Shane just doesn't stop beating Ed until his face is all bloody and he's writhing around in the dirt.

My eyes are wide as Shane comes marching back up the hill. I wonder if, what he did to Ed, he's wanted to do that to Merle or Dad before. It makes me nervous, seeing Shane's fists all bloody and his expression so empty. When he walks past me, he doesn't look at me. He goes right past me and I watch him go with big, wide eyes.

I wish my dad would just come back. I wonder what he's doing in Atlanta right now. I wonder if he found Merle. Or maybe he's dead. No. He promised he'll come back. He's gonna come back.