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Daryl

We were back in the kitchen, eating dinner before settling in for the night. We moved the candles from the piano room to the table so the kitchen was filled with flickering light.

"I'm gonna leave a thank you note," Beth said brightly. I wasn't sure where she had found a pen and paper.

"Why?" I didn't get it, we stole half their stash. They were going to be pissed.

"For when they come back," she said. "If they come back," I watched the thought go over her as she realized there was a chance they were already dead. "Even if they aren't coming back I still want to say thanks," she reasoned.

I looked over her shoulder as she wrote a little note. Her handwriting was loopy and girly and she frowned in concentration as she carefully chose what words to leave them.

"Maybe you don't have to leave that," I said quietly.

She looked up at me, frowning. She didn't understand what I meant.

"Maybe we stick around here for a little while. They come back. We'll just make it work. They may be nuts...but maybe it'll be alright." I didn't look at her as I spoke. I stared down into the jar of pickles I was eating. It was a good place. The house was already secure and with the forest near by I could hunt for us. I could take care of us here.

She smiled at me, biting her lip. "So you do think there are still good people around."

I shrugged.

She chuckled. "What changed your mind?"

I glanced at her and snorted. "You know."

"What?"

I looked at her but couldn't find the words. "I don't know," I mumbled.

"What changed your mind?" She pushed impatiently.

I didn't say anything, I just stared into her eyes, letting her see that I was okay now and I would take care of her. I never had a younger sibling, but I had to figure this is what having a little sister would have felt like. I wanted to protect her and keep her from all the bad things that were out there.

"Oh," she said in a quiet voice.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably when I was saved from having to say something by the cans clanging and the dog barking.

"I'm gonna give that mutt one more chance," I said grabbing the jar of peanut butter.

I left Beth in the kitchen and walked through the dark house towards the front door. I opened the door, ready to call for it but was greeted by a herd of snarling Walkers. I felt my eyes widen and I tried to slam the door. They were too close, and surged forward towards me. I leaned against it, trying desperately to hold them back.

"Beth!" I yelled urgently. "Beth!"

She came hobbling around the corner as fast as she could and threw me my crossbow.

"Run!" I yelled, motioning to the back of the house.

I tucked my crossbow into my shoulder and took a steady breath. I whirled away from the door letting it go. It flipped open and the walkers surged forward, growling eagerly. I fired at the first Walker through the door. It's body fell, tripping and slowing the others.

Beth was injured and wouldn't be able to out run them. I had to lead them away from her, deeper into the house to give her time to escape.

"Beth! Pry open a window! Get your shit!" I yelled, drawing the walkers behind me. They snarled and snapped, my yelling driving them into a frenzy.

"I'm not going to leave you!" she protested. I couldn't see her, but I could hear the fear and determination in her voice. She wasn't far away, the next room maybe.

"Go out!" I yelled back, the walkers were right behind me, growling in excitement. "Go up the road. I'll meet you there." I promised. "Go!" I yelled at her, the last word with more authority. She couldn't argue with me on this. I could protect her, but only if she listened to me. If she didn't we were both going to die.

I saw a flash of blonde hair as she disappeared deeper into the house.

"This way!" I yelled at the herd. I killed one, smashing it's skull with the butt of my crossbow. The body slowed the surging herd down again. I banged against the walls as I ran so they would stay with me instead of following her. I ran down the stairs into the embalming lab.

I turned back to the herd and killed the walker on the lead. I tossed aside my crossbow and snatched up two scalpels off the table. I turned the table sideways across the corner. It kept the Walkers at arms length as they surged towards me. I stabbed each one of them in the skull as they came for me. They piled up against one another but there were too many for me to fight. I crawled out from behind the first table and jumped over the second one, spinning it around to trap the majority of the group. I ran up the stairs. I passed several Walkers but I didn't bother with them. I had to get to Beth.

I flew out of the house and down the steps. I stopped as I faced one in the yard. It's mouth was covered with fresh blood. I froze, my throat closing, as I thought about Beth out here, unable to run. I attacked it angrily, beating it's skull in with my crossbow. When I climbed to my feet I turned back to the road. I was almost afraid of what I would find. But there was no body. Beth's small backpack was laying in the middle of the street.

I looked up as I heard the squeal of tires as a car raced away.

"Beth!"I screamed and I tore off down the road after it. "Beth!" I yelled again and I didn't stop running.

I ran all night. I ran for as long as I could. I ran until I reached a crossroads and I didn't know which way they went so I couldn't run anymore. I failed again. She was gone.

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Jo

There were no stars that night. The clouds were low hanging and dark. I ran. I ran all night. I ran until my legs were shaking and I threw up. Then I ran some more. I ran because I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.

I couldn't see anything in the darkness, only the shape of the trees in my peripheral. In the inky blackness I couldn't even see my own feet. I could only feel the ties beneath my boots. I didn't stop, I couldn't stop.

The growls were echoing in my mind as I ran. At one point I didn't know if I was running down the tracks or fighting in the ring. I could have been back in the cell block nearly delirious with fever or, and perhaps what scared me the most, still in the tombs. Either way it didn't matter, it was all the same. My muscles were beyond fatigued and I couldn't think. All I knew was I had to keep moving to stay alive.

When dawn broke I could stop. I collapsed in the middle of the tracks. I lay on the cold gravel, my whole body shaking as I fought to pull in ragged breaths. I started to cough and couldn't stop. I rolled up onto my hands and knees as I gagged and threw up. I shuddered as I fought to regain control of my body. If any walkers came now I would be dead.

When I was done I rolled back onto my side and looked around, checking the area. It was belated, and I was lucky I wasn't already dead. There were no Walkers. As I lay, sprawled on the ground I wondered how long there hadn't been any Walkers. How far had I run?

I was so tired. I was tired of being alone. I was tired of not knowing what was real and what was in my head. I was just tired.

It was the first and only time I ever considered giving up. And it wasn't just a fleeting thought. I just wanted to be done. I was so tired.

I closed my eyes and let myself drift. I don't know if I actually fell asleep, I must have because when I opened my eyes the sun was high. I forced myself to get to my feet. My head was spinning and my brain and throat felt cottony. I needed to do something. I needed to find some place safe, or something...

I cupped my forehead, trying to THINK.

But I couldn't, I couldn't push past whatever was happening. I grabbed the straps on my backpack, but the bag felt like it weighed a ton. I didn't think I would be able to lift it at all. How could I have possibly run all night with it? I dragged it away from the train tracks towards the trees with silent tears running down my face.

I had to find someplace safe to sleep. I had to rest. But what was safe? I had no one to watch my back, I had no one to take turns keeping watch. I had no one. I was so tired of being alone.

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Daryl

I sat, crosslegged in the middle of the road for most of the day, staring at the ground. It was my fault again, and I was alone.

It was well into the afternoon when a pair of black cowboy boots stepped into my field of vision. I could hear others with him, but I didn't bother looking up. There were too many for me to fight by myself.

"Well, lookit here," the man drawled. When I didn't look up at him, he stepped closer and leaned down towards me. When he was close enough I hit him. I stood as I swung, putting every ounce of power and frustration I had into the blow. He fell back and by the time I was all the way on my feet I was pointing my crossbow at his forehead.

I heard guns cock around me, but I didn't look away from the man with the cowboy boots.

"Damnit hold up!" He yelled to the group from the ground.

"I'm claiming the vest," a voice came behind me. So they were planning on killing me no matter what. "I like them wings," he growled behind me. I had a strange sense of satisfaction knowing if they were going to kill me anyway at least I had done something to deserve it.

"Hold up," the man said. He looked down at the blood leaking from his nose and started laughing. He laughed like me hitting him was the funniest goddamn thing that ever happened to him.

He climbed to his feet and took a step towards me. I took one back, towards his men, to keep enough room between him and me so he couldn't reach my crossbow.

"A bowman," he said still smiling. "I respect that." He wiped away the blood casually. As I stared him into the eyes I could see he was a hard man. He reminded me of Merle, or my old man. I hated my old man. I instantly disliked him.

"Ya see a man with a rifle, he could have been some kind of photographer or soccer coach back in the day. But...a bowman's a bowman through and through." He dropped his eyes to my crossbow. "What you got there? Hundred and fifty pound draw weight?" He asked, his voice was light and there was still a grin on his face. But I bet he could have grinned like that while he slit my throat. "I'll be donkey licked if that don't fire at least three hundred feet per second. I've been looking for a weapon like that," he continued in a calm voice.

I tightened my grip on my bow. He was going to have to pry it out of my cold dead fingers.

"Of course, I'd want one with a bit more ammo and minus the oblongata stains," he said grinning away like the tip of my bolt wasn't eighteen inches from his forehead. The men behind me chuckled.

"Get yourself into some trouble partner?" It was the voice of the man who claimed my vest. I wanted to whip around and shoot him, but I was betting the man in front of me talking was the most dangerous man here.

"You pull that trigger, these boys are gonna drop you several times over. That what you want?"

I didn't respond, just glared at him down my sights. If I was gonna die anyway I was taking the leader of this little group with me.

Something in his eyes flickered, like he knew what I was thinking. "Come on, fella, suicide is stupid. Why hurt yourself, when you can hurt other people?" and he smiled for real. "Name's Joe."

The name hit me like a kick in the ribs. She would have been pissed if I got myself killed over something stupid. She would have already been twelve steps ahead of this smooth talking man. She would have already known how to play him and get us out of here. Either that or she would have already killed him. Either way.

I lowered the crossbow. "Daryl," I growled back. The men surrounding me lowered their weapons. Joe was smiling at me and nodding, welcoming me to the group.

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Jo

I jerked awake. It was nearly dark, and night was falling fast. I was wedged between two trees in a small hollow. The dirt was cool and wet against my skin. I only vaguely remembered dragging myself in here. I stopped and listened before I moved to get out. I didn't hear any Walkers nearby so I pulled myself out.

My body felt heavy and like it belonged to someone else. As soon as I moved my head began to pound. I stopped, staring down stupidly at my pack. My bottle of water was sitting, tucked into the side pouch where I put it the morning before. Or was it two mornings before? I couldn't remember. Everything was hazy.

I dropped down to the ground next to the pack and pulled the bottle of water out. My hands shook as I unscrewed the cap and forced myself to take three small sips. As soon as the water touched my tongue I knew exactly what I had done. I took another series of sips and reached into the bag, pulling out enough food for a full meal.

It was such a stupid thing. I could have gotten myself killed. All because I forgot to eat and forgot to drink. When there was someone else around it was easy to remember. You watched out for each other. It was especially easy to remember to eat when your partner in crime was a badass red neck who tended to get hangry when he missed a meal. But I didn't have that anymore. The stress from always being alert was wearing on me. It made me sloppy and I could have died because of it.

Once I was done eating I sipped some more water. There was nothing else for me to do, but crawl back into my hollow and try to get some decent sleep. Somehow I was still exhausted even after sleeping more of the day. Though I didn't know if any real amount of sleep could help that.

It was a tight squeeze, but I managed to wedge myself back in. I took another two sips of water and shook the bottle. I had drank half. It would have to be enough for now. In the morning I would be on the move again and I could find someplace to replenish it. I drew my kukri, resting it against my leg. The grip in my hand was comforting and I closed my eyes to sleep.

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Daryl

The group worked together like they had been with each other a long time. We camped in a clearing. Everyone set up their bedrolls, pulled food out of their own bags and ignored each other for the rest of the night. They weren't really a group, they were just a bunch of survivors who stuck together for surviving sake. I went to sleep hungry that night.

I woke up at dawn with my stomach rumbling. I left everyone sleeping and went hunting. It felt strange to be out in the woods on my own again. It took me hours before I found a rabbit.

I released my bolt and it struck home at the exact moment an arrow lodged in it's small body.

"What the hell you doin?" I snapped whirling to see the asshole who wanted to take my stuff standing behind me.

He was drafting off my tracking, tracking me while I did the hard work tracking it. Merle used to do that sometimes. He'd take my kill and bring it back as his own, leaving me to have to find another. By the time I found something else and got back my old man was always in a mood and I suffered for it. The memories surging through me made me even more mad.

"Catching me some breakfast," the man in front of me drawled smugly.

"That's mine," I snapped, stalking over to the rabbit.

"My arrow's the one that hit first. The cottontail belongs to me," he called back.

"Been out here since the sun came up," I growled, pulling the bolt and arrow out of the rabbit.

"You see, the rules of the hunt don't mean jack out here. Now, that rabbit you holding is claimed boy. Claimed whether you like it or not. So if I was you, I would hand it over, before you get to wishin you ain't never even got out of bed this morning."

"It ain't yours," I growled back, sizing him up. He was a little taller than me but I bet I could take him. Neither of us had an arrow notched or loaded so it would be knives. I didn't see one on his waist but that didn't mean he didn't have one.

"You know...I'll bet its a bitch that got you all mess up, huh?" he asked, smirking at me.

I wanted to punch that smug look off his face.

"Am I right? Got you walking around here like a dead man who just lost himself a piece of tail. Must have been a good'in. Tell me something. Was it one of the little'ins?"

My jaw snapped together and I dropped my hand to my knife. I thought of all the kids back at the prison I had fought to protect, I thought about Beth and how she could be with someone like him right now. He was not leaving this clearing alive.

"Cause they don't last too long out here."

Men like him didn't deserve to live. I whirled on him, pulling my knife.
Joe appeared out from behind a tree and grabbed my knife hand.

"Easy fellas," Joe said in a patient voice. "Let's just put our weapons down. See if we can't figure out what's really the problem here huh?" He turned back to the man in front of me. "You claim it?" he asked.

"Hell yeah," he said smugly.

"Well, there you go. That critter belongs to Len," Joe said simply as though that was the end of it but he was watching my fave carefully.

"So let's have it," Len snapped.

"Looks like you may be wanting an explanation." Joe said rationally. "See, going it alone, that ain't an option nowadays. I don't know no one badass enough to be able to pull that off. Still, it is survival of the fittest.That's a paradox right there. So I laid out some rules of the road to keep things from going Darwin every couple hours. Keep our merry band together and stress free. All you gotta do is claim, that's how you mark your territory, your prey, your bed at night. One word, claim."

I shook my head. This was turning out to be the worst choice I ever made being with these guys. "I ain't claiming nothing," I growled angrily. I couldn't tell who I was more angry with, the men in front of me or myself.

"We're gonna teach him right?" Len said taking an agressive step towards me, I lowered my head, ready to fight back if he attacked me. "The rules say we gotta teach him."

Joe looked back at me. "Now it wouldn't be fair to punish you for violating a rule you never knew existed." Len shook his head and stomped away angrily.

"There ain't no rules no more," my words were for Joe, but I didn't take my eyes off of Len. I didn't trust him.

"Oh there are, you know that. That's why I didn't kill you for the crossbow." Joe reached down and took hold of the other end of the rabbit. I stepped towards him angrily. "Easy there partner," he warned. He used his hatchet to cut the rabbit in two.

He tossed the other half to Len. Len caught it, glared once more at me and stomped off back towards camp.

"Claimed," Joe said looking at me. "That's all you gotta say." He looked at my face. "Hey, ass end is still an end." Then he walked off back towards the group.

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Jo

When I woke up I still felt a little off, but better I drank half of what was left of the water and ate more food than normal, to boost my energy. I climbed out of my hollow, stretched my limbs and set off in search of water. I was still doing okay with my food supplies, but it also wouldn't hurt to keep an eye out.

I followed the tracks, figuring it was the best way to not get lost. From here I still thought I would be able to find my way back to the house or the prison if I wanted to. Though I didn't know how far I had run that night.

Eventually the tracks would cross some kind of water. It was only a couple hours before that happened. I stopped, climbing down the bank to the small stream. I sat on a rock, ate some lunch and downed the rest of the water. I refilled the bottle and forced myself to drink two full bottles until I was so full of water I felt sick again. Then I filled it a final time and stowed it in my pack. I swung the pack back up on my shoulders and for lack of a better idea continued down the tracks. They had to lead somewhere.

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