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𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 that was slowly seeping into the dirt, red and shimmering in the sunlight. The little girl, who had not been Sophia for some time, laid face down. I barely paid attention to Carol's sobbing as she ran from the scene, or the labored breathing of my friends around me.

I dropped down into a squat, resting my hands against my forehead, feeling the cool metal of my gun press against my sweltering skin. There were tears streaming down my cheeks that I mistook for sweat.

My hands were shaking and it took everything in me to slow the movement as I breathed in deeply through my nose and out my mouth. I felt hands touch me, softly, weighing down against my shoulders before bending down to wrap themselves around me. I didn't care that it was Shane, that moments before I'd been calling him a monster, screaming at him to stop, because his weight was comforting and keeping me grounded.

I needed to be rooted back to this earth, rather than the air that was trying to shake me apart. He bowed his head against mine, pressing his forehead into my hair as I sucked in a deep breath to hold back my own mangled sob. I'd allowed myself to be filled with false hope, that somehow through it all, we'd find her. That she'd be hiding into a little burrow, a cupboard, a car, and she'd be safe and sound. That we'd have a beautiful reunion between mother and daughter, and all would be right in the world.

But she'd been dead. From the start. She'd always been dead.

Beth made a loud sobbing noise behind me and I turned my head swiftly, watching her race forward. I was on my knees, stumbling forward as the girl dropped down beside her mother's body.

"Beth, wait, no–" I broke out before she began to scream. Her mother, Annette, chomped at the air and clawed at the girl's hair to bring her down.

Beth let out a wailing scream as everyone began to race forward. I had Beth around the waist, dragging her backwards and away from the walker as it tried to bring itself out from under another to get to her.

I threw Beth towards Maggie as she ran towards us and I had my knife pulled out from my waistband in seconds. I was upon the walker before anyone could get to her. I had her arms pinned down with my feet and the knife humanely in her skull before Glenn could run up to help, his rifle drawn.

I glared up at everyone who'd been shooting earlier and snarled, "Never put yourselves in this situation ever again." My voice came out rougher than I intended, the anger clearly visible. "If you're going to be using a gun," my eyes found Daryl, found Glenn, found Andrea and T-Dog, "then you make sure the shot is direct, not some pussy bullet through the jaw."

I laid the walker's head back down softly, motioning for Shane to bring me a blanket like he'd done for Sophia. I took the thick wool and laid it out over the walker as Beth curled into Maggie and sobbed louder than before. No child should have to see their parents like this and no child should have the false hope they'd get better after a bite or death.

Hershel was finally standing, holding his youngest daughter to him tightly. I met his eyes and quickly averted my eyes as I bowed my head. He didn't deserve to see this happen today, or any day. It would've been better if we'd just left but then Sophia would've been left to rot in the barn for years or weeks or days, or however long this place lasted.

The old man didn't speak but he reached out towards me with a hesitant hand. I stood, careful of the bodies and took the old man's hand. He was trembling, but not as badly as his daughter.

I glanced at Maggie and said, "I'll help you get them back to the house."

We needed to make peace, keep him happy even after all the grief we'd spoiled on him. There was no way he was going to let us stay but if we urged him to keep us, to show that we truly meant no harm in Shane's monstrous display, then there was still a chance for peace.

But Shane was still rampaging.

"We've been out," said Shane, following us up the path and towards the house. "We've been combing these woods looking for her and she was in there all along? You knew."

"Leave us alone," said Maggie and I turned quickly to glare at him as we walked.

"Shane, you best leave this alone," I added on behalf of the Greene family. How he could believe Hershel would do this out of spite, how he could've known what Sophia looked like...Shane was being ridiculous.

"Hey, Shane, just stop, man–" Rick grabbed his arm and Shane pushed him back, snarling, "Get your hands off me."

Hershel waved a hand in there and said, "I–" but cut himself off with a heavy breath.

"You knew," Shane egged on, "and you kept it from us."

"I didn't know," said Hershel in a broken voice.

"That's bullshit! I think you all knew!"

"Shane!" I hissed, stepping away from Maggie to turn on him quickly. I had my hands on his chest and pushed back before he could follow the family up the front steps. "You've got to quit it."

"We didn't know anything!" added Maggie from the top of the steps.

"Then why was she there?" asked Shane, pressing up against my hands but not throwing me off.

Hershel was stuttering before he spoke. "You–your–Otis put those people in the barn. Maybe he found her and put her in there before he was killed."

Shane stepped around me, even though I grabbed at his arms. "You expect me to believe that? What do I look like? Do I look like an idiot?"

"I don't care what you believe!" snapped Hershel as Rick tried to step between the two men and say, "Everybody just calm down!"

Hershel would not have it. "Get him off my land!"

"Please. No–"

"Let me tell you something–" Shane stepped forward but was interrupted.

Maggie lunged between the men so he'd stop from getting any closer to her father, hissing out a desperate and angry, "Hey! Do not touch him!" She struck him across the face and Shane's focus turned to her as she added a painful, "Haven't you done enough?"

They walked up the steps and Hershel turned when he got to the screen door to look at us. "I mean it. Off my land."

I prayed he only meant Shane. Rick waited a beat until Glenn had gone inside after Maggie to turn on Shane. "What are you doing?" he asked, forcing him to look at him. "Hey, what are you doing?"

He finally met his friend's eyes. "Daryl almost died looking for her, Rick," said Shane. He motioned to me with a jerk of his wrist. "Sam almost went down with him. Daryl got shot, Sam could've been next–" He wiped his face. "Any one of us could have. I'm gonna tell you right now––that son of a bitch, he knew."

"He didn't know," said Rick in an exasperated tone. He was just as tired as we all were. "He's not like that. He opened his home to us."

"He saved Carl's life," I added quickly. "He could've turned us away but he didn't."

Shane gestured towards the barn. "He put us all in danger. Man, he kept a barn full of walkers."

Rick's head titled, eyes narrowed and his lips parted in shock that his friend would be so delusional, so quick to start a fight. "So you just start an insurrection and hand out guns and massacre his family?"

"His family's dead, Rick."

"Not to him they weren't," I snapped, shaking my head. "They were still people to him. Imagine someone goes in and kills your mother for being sick, what then?"

Rick nodded. "He thinks you just murdered them in cold blood!"

"No, man," said Shane, "I don't care what he thinks."

"I was handlin' it, brother! I was handling it and you just–"

"You had us out in those woods looking for a little girl that every single one of us thought was dead!"

"Not everyone," I hissed and Shane's head darted to the side to look at me. His eyes were wide, his jaw set and clenched tightly. "Not everyone thought she was dead, you asshole!"

His eyes, if possible, got wider at my tone. It was like an alarm bell was going off inside his head, that maybe, for a moment, he'd miscalculated whether or not people wanted to follow Rick. That, maybe, his friend was doing the right thing and he was in the wrong.

"I did not expect her to come out of that barn," said Rick. "Nobody did. Not you, not Hershel, not anyone."

"You were searching for a dead girl," snapped Shane, nostrils flaring as he turned his attention back on Rick like he was a bull finally seeing the color red. "You're just as delusional as he is," he pointed to the house.

He looked at Rick and only Rick before leaving. I fell back against the railing with a scoffing sigh leaving my lips as he stomped away and back towards the barn. There were so many people to bury and burn and I could only hope he'd be too busy over there to pick any more fights.

"Do you think he's right?" asked Rick in a soft voice, one he did not use often but felt like a gift when he did. Gone was the roughness, the pained expression, the haggard look in his eyes. "That I was just delusional?"

I shook my head, my reaction waiting for no moment for him to finish speaking. "No, not at all." A smile came to my face and I bowed my head just for a moment to say, "Okay, maybe a little in the beginning but you've got to know, Rick, we were all out there. If we didn't want to search, if we thought it would've been–been futile, then we wouldn't have done it."

"She was in there," he whispered, voice breaking. "The whole time. She was just..."

"There was no way we would've known."

"If Shane hadn't gone and done that, we wouldn't have ever found her. We would've been searchin' for her for days, months–" He shook his head, cutting himself off.

"After a month," I muttered, "we would've stopped. We all know the odds of finding a child after that long."

Conner had been gone longer. Since the start. But was he truly lost? Was he lost and dead just like her?

"But she was right here, Sam. Right under our noses."

The wind shifted in the trees above us and we finally felt our first welcome breeze of a potential autumn coming soon. It was cold, clinging to our sweaty skin and sending the hair on my arm to stand up. I knew winter would come and bring us freezing temperatures, frostbite, and lack of shelter and food if we were forced to leave this place.

"We couldn't have known," I said back and Rick met my eyes. "We wouldn't have ever known she was here but that's not our fault. None of this was."

Shane's name was left unsaid but heard.

He nodded, breathing deeply through a sniffle. When he cleared his throat, he said, "Thank you, for doing that for me."

Shooting the girl. Shooting the only hope we had left of a better future.

I nodded back. "You would've done the same for me."

If that had been Conner, would you have let anyone take the shot? Would they have been worthy enough to make such a kill?

"Go," I murmured. "Go talk to your wife, help the others with cleaning up."

"What about you? What will you do?" he asked with a frown. I wished he would ask me to come with him, to take his hand and lead him so far away from here and all our troubles but he would never stoop that low.

"I'm gonna go inside," I said with a faint smile, "and see if I can't help fix what Shane broke."

Inside the farm house, Glenn and Maggie were speaking in hushed voices in the living room. I crept past them and towards the kitchen where Beth was sitting at the counter, a glass of water gripped tightly in her hand. Her knuckles were white and her arms were shaking.

Her head turned at the sound of my boots on the floorboards and her scared expression softened only slightly before relaxing entirely.

"Shouldn't you be out there?" she said in a soft voice, like a whisper before a song. "Helpin' them drag those...those..." She shook her head. She didn't know what to call them anymore.

"We're burying our dead," I said to her, coming to sit across from her. "We bury our loved ones."

She looked down at the water, watching it ripple as I bumped the counter. "What do you call them?" she asked. "Those...dead people?"

"We call them our loved ones," I said back, "but we call the others walkers."

"My mama..." Her voice broke on the first word. "She...she attacked me."

"She wasn't your mom anymore."

"But daddy says–"

"He didn't understand them," I interrupted her with a shake of my head. "They're not what he thought they were."

"How can you say that?" she breathed. Her blonde hair was knotted and bunched up in a ponytail down her neck. Frizzy from the heat, tangled from where the walker's hands had plunged into her golden locks. "How can you just–just kill them? They were people, they were–" Her mouth pulled back in a silent sob.

"They haven't been people for a long time now." I reached out across the table, holding my palm up towards her and she stared down at her as her breathing slowed back to normal. It took her a moment before she let go of the glass and put her hand in mine.

Our fingers interlocked there, right there, on the table, and it felt hopeful.

"I'm not strong enough," she whispered to me and I found her confession daunting. To look up and greet me in the eyes and speak a truth worthy of only a sister or father or lover. "I can't survive this world...not...not like y'all have."

I frowned lightly. "Anyone can beat this world if they try."

"I ran to her," she said in that same whisper, our hands still together. "I ran to her and thought...thought nothin' of it." She shook her head and squeezed her hand around mine. "How can I be so stupid?"

"You're not," I hissed back. "Don't ever say that about yourself. You're not stupid, Beth." I let out a shaking breath. "You're just hopeful and not a lot of people have that type of hope. It's good. It's a good thing to have."

Was it, though? Was it when it was risky? Reckless? Dangerous?

Hope was the most dangerous thing to have in this world.

When it was time to pay our respects, I left with Beth and Jimmy. The walk over to the trees where we'd had our service for Otis was now a freshly dug graveyard. There were three graves, marked with large stones. Hershel wore a fresh suit and tie, his hands folded in front of him and he stayed silent in our mourning moment.

Everyone was silent because no words needed to be spoken.

We'd butchered a man's family and the weight of that was settling darkly over our shoulders. I squeezed Beth's hand and left her side when someone's hand touched my waist. Shane motioned for me to follow him but I stayed put, glaring. I didn't need to hear a word he said, all his apologies were mirrors facing back at him. Bouncing off like nothing would ever change.

He gave me a long look as I stared at him off my shoulder. He was walking back towards the blue truck he'd driven over to move the bodies and it seemed he would wait until I walked over.

Once everyone began to disperse, I reluctantly came to him. He was resting an arm on the open car door, his eyes narrowed from the sun peeking out from behind thick clouds rolling in. His brown shirt was stained with muddy, rotten blood.

"Sam, listen..."

"Whatever you've got to say," I snapped, "I don't want to hear it. Honestly, I really don't."

"What we did today–"

"What you did, Shane. What you did."

He scoffed, looking away as if to compose himself before looking at me again. "That old man has been screwin' with us the moment we got here, you can't disagree with that."

"Actually, I can."

"He knew."

"Do you even hear yourself?" I hissed, leaning closer to say it harshly under my breath. I didn't need the Greene family to hear him continue his psycho crusade. "You sound insane. Hershel didn't know, none of them did. But what they do know is that you just massacred their friends and family."

"We couldn't keep livin' with that barn full of walkers," he snapped back. He scratched his clenching jaw. "We couldn't keep riskin' our lives not knowin' when it would finally break open. What if one of those things got loose? My god, Sam! What if it had got loose and came into our camp?"

"It wouldn't have–"

"You don't know that." He was glaring but it wasn't towards me. It was all this anger being filtered through him and vaulted towards the barn, towards him not getting what he wanted. "I don't know what I would've done if one of those goddamn things came and got you or Carl–"

I shook my head and he held his tongue. "Don't make this about me because it's not. You know it. You're just mad because Lori agreed with Rick, that what you did was horrific–"

"You called me a monster."

"And I fucking meant it."

Everyone had left, gone in different directions on the farm. Some back to our camp, others to the fields, and the Greene's to their home. We were left to our own devices, until Shane drove the truck over to the barn to carry the bodies out to burn.

"You don't mean that..." he murmured to me, looking down at me with a look I couldn't decipher. He wasn't someone I could read as easily as I could've before. Not when half his looks were those of concern and anger, but for whom and for what, I couldn't tell anymore. Maybe he was just angry at the world, at God, for never giving him the easy way out for everything. "Sam, please, just try to see it from my side."

"I can't." I felt a wave of emotion swell up over my face and I blinked hastily to avoid the embarrassment of crying in front of him. "I thought we'd find her," I whispered. "I thought she was still out there, even if you didn't."

"Everythin' I said before, I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

I shook my head. "It's what you've been sayin' this whole time. You never believed in Rick or Daryl or me. We went out there, every day lookin' for her. Did that really mean nothing to you?"

"Daryl almost died out there," he said in a hushed voice, straining himself. Was this truly him being worried? Or just a pathetic attempt to seem normal? "You almost died. I was not goin' to allow those searches to keep goin' when it meant someone else could get hurt." He shook his head, dropping his arm from the truck to reach out for me but I stepped out of his grip. "You almost got shot. You could've died from–from exposure, from the fall down that damn cliff. You get that, right? You could've died."

"But I didn't. Neither did Daryl. We were all fine." I looked towards the barn where Andrea and T-Dog were beginning to pull bodies away. "Listen, we both got jobs to do now. No more of this, okay? I'm tired of it."

"Sam–"

"I don't want to fucking hear anymore–"

He took my jaw into his hand, possessive in the way he made me look up and into his eyes. There was pressure in his fingers, digging into my skin and I wondered what gave him the impression I could be handled this way. What made him think he could touch me so freely at all?

"I'm sorry," he spat into my face, his eyes dancing between my lips. "But I will not be sorry for protectin' you and Carl."

"And Lori?" I hissed back. "You know she's pregnant, you sure you didn't go fucking crazy at the barn for her sake?"

He shook his head, nostrils flaring. "I did all this for you."

"No, you didn't."

"Will you fuckin' quit it?"

"No."

I pushed back from him but he caught my arm, pulling me closer. His hand on my face went to my hair, bunching it in his fist to keep me looking up at him. I could not deny he was touching me in a way that sent both anxious and hot pulses to my gut, but if he thought he'd get anything from me after the episode today. He would be wrong.

At least I hoped I had more self-control and decency than that.

"Let go of me," I hissed into his face, baring my teeth and jutting my chin up the best I could.

He released my arm and then ran his hand down from my hair to my cheek and neck. It was a feather light touch, like he knew what he did was wrong. I had promised myself, not long after leaving home for the first time, that I would never let another man touch me the way John had and I was a liar. I'd been lying to myself from the start.

"I'm sorry," he said again once he finally released me.

I stepped back and away from him and didn't bother saying much of anything else before turning on my heel and beelining it towards the house.

I washed dishes in the sink, handing them off to Beth to dry. Everything from the breakfast Hershel had served his family needed to be cleaned off. Just a few plates, forks, and spoons. It was a routine I knew Beth needed to fall into. So, I washed a plate, handed it to her, and watched her dry it with a towel and place it back in the cabinet.

Glenn and Maggie were outside the kitchen, speaking softly to each other and I tried not to listen. I didn't need to be a third party to their every conversation, as much as I did enjoy it.

I ignored their conversation and focused back on Beth. Her skin was pale and she looked clammy. I wanted to write it off as being sweat from the sun and the heat indoors, but the fan was on and it was cool inside. I washed the next plate, slowly, as I watched her rest her weight on the counter in front of me.

"Beth," I murmured with a frown, "are you feeling alright?"

She hadn't gotten bit, I knew that for sure. There hadn't been any blood, not even a scratch on her from earlier. I didn't get the chance to reach out and see if her forehead was warm before she was toppling over to the side with a loud crash.

"Oh, fuck," I yelped when her head lobbed to the side and her body crumpled. I dropped to my knees beside her as Maggie ran in. "I don't know what happened, she just fell over, I swear–"

"Beth, hey, Beth." Maggie was touching the girl's face, moving her onto her back. When the girl stared unblinking back up at her, Maggie looked at me with fear written across her face. "Oh, god, what do we do, what do we–"

"Get her to her room," said Glenn. "Get her lying down, I'll–I'll grab some cold towels. Maybe...maybe she's overheating?"

I nodded, moving an arm underneath Beth's knees and the other around her back as I lifted her with Maggie's help. A body, completely limp and dead weight, seemed to weigh thousands more than they would've normally. I struggled only for a moment, my hands and palms burning with the strain but with Maggie guiding me carefully through the house and up the stairs, we got her to her bedroom.

Maggie sat down on the edge of the bed as Glenn came in with wet towels in his hand. I took one from him, going to Beth's other side and pressing the cloth gently to her face.

"Go get Rick," I told Glenn. "We need to find Hershel, he can help her better than we can."

Glenn nodded, racing out the door. Maggie shook her head, holding Beth's hand closely to her chest. "What's wrong with her? I–I don't understand."

"She just watched her mother get killed," I muttered, shaking my head. Beth's face wasn't drastically hot but it was warm, her skin sweaty. "It...it could be shock? After the drop of adrenalin, she could just be going through post-rush symptoms. She was shaky earlier, in the kitchen. When she fell, it looked like her legs just broke underneath her."

I pressed two fingers to her pulse.

"Her heart's racing."

Glenn came back no later than when he left, slightly breathless as he entered the room. "Rick and Shane, they can't find Hershel anywhere."

"We would've noticed if he'd just up and left, right?" I asked. "We would've heard a car, heard something?"

Maggie stood as Lori stopped in the doorway. "Can you watch her for a moment, so I can help Rick?"

I nodded and watched the three of them leave the room. I pressed my hand to Beth's face again as I kept one of the cold towers across her forehead. Her eyes were unseeing, like there was nothing at all in her head that was controlling her. It was like all movement had just stopped, almost as if she were comatose.

A complete catatonic state.

I brushed the hair back from her face and took one of her hands in mine. "Listen, Beth, if you can hear me," I whispered against the skin of her knuckles, holding her tightly, "please know we're here for you. We...love you, okay? We're gonna bring your daddy home, okay?"

I stood swiftly from the bed and entered the next room across the hall where Rick, Shane, Lori, Maggie, and Glenn were looking through Hershel's things. On the bed were old boxes of clothes, one containing white frilly cloth only belonging to an old wedding gown.

"Any ideas of where he could've gone?" I asked, fingering the dress and feeling the rough mesh. "Beth might have a temperature, I don't know how long she can go like that if we can't get Hershel to do somethin' about it."

"Don't you know what to do?" asked Lori. "You're good with these things, isn't there something you can do?"

I pulled my hand from the box with a sigh. "We don't have any anxiety medications, especially in liquid form. I wouldn't be able to bring her out of it with medication." I felt the eyes in the room all shift to stare at me as I began to list things that could go wrong, all that I'd learned from websites and textbooks during school. Thank you psychology class. "She needs to drink water. I don't think she's had any all day so we're riskin' dehydration, malnutrition if we can't get food in her, either."

"Then we need to bring Hershel home," said Rick with a definite nod.

"Where is he?"

"Could be at a bar in town," said Rick. "Called Hatlin's."

Glenn nodded. "I know where it is, I can take you."

Lori scoffed and looked away, her arms crossed tightly over herself.

"I'll go too," I said, stepping forward. I held up a hand before Shane and Rick could argue. "I'm a good shot, and besides. Maggie and Glenn had trouble at the pharmacy, who's to say we won't in town? Hershel...he likes me. I can help."

Maggie nodded. "As much as I want you to stay and look after Beth, my dad listens to you. He respects you, sorry Rick," she grimaced towards the man and he offered her a weak smile.

"Then we leave now," said Rick. "Go grab what you need, I don't suspect this to take very long."

I nodded in return, turning to Maggie as Rick left, Lori following swiftly behind him. "If Beth takes a turn for the worst...which I don't think it will, but if her temperature skyrockets, just work on bringing it down. It's all you can do for the time being until Hershel's back or she wakes us."

"And her heart rate?"

I rubbed my forehead. I didn't know a damn thing. "Slow her breathing somehow, I don't know. Fuck, I'm sorry, Maggie, I just–I'm just not sure."

"It's okay," she whispered, giving me a forced smile. It wasn't fair for us to deal with this when her father was capable. "We'll keep her temperature down..." She looked at me, wondering what to do because there wasn't a way to give her medicine.

"Lukewarm water," I said. "You probably can't get her into the bath but lukewarm rags, a cool towel on her face." I shrugged. I couldn't even remember what I used to do for Conner when he'd get sick. I would just lie with him, hold him until he fell asleep. "Just be with her."

Maggie, still looking worried, nodded. "You two better get going, sun'll go down in a few hours."

I nodded, leaving Glenn with Maggie as I tore through the house to grab my things from my tent. I only needed a backpack with some ammo, a snack, and some water. I already had my ax strapped to me, as well as my gun.

As I dug around my tent, I heard someone stop by the flap with a grunt. I turned, looking over my shoulder at Rick. He had his pistol in his hand and he offered me a small smile.

"You lookin' for ammo?"

He nodded. "Just a few extra rounds would make me comfortable."

I ruffled around in my bag, knowing I had a box with a few bullets left over inside. When I found it, I passed it over to him and said, "Wanna tell me why Lori didn't look too happy with you in there?"

He sighed, walking with me to his car as he loaded his gun. "Afraid I'm going to get myself killed and that I'm fightin' everyone's battles for them."

"Well, aren't you technically doing that?"

He gave me an annoyed look. "Not you too..."

"I mean, come on, Rick," I said with a laugh, circling around to the other side of the car. "You're running off to find Hershel when we know better than to leave Shane here alone."

"You're running too, Sam, don't put this on me."

"Hey! I'm not!" He found a smile on his face as I added, "But leavin' your wife when she's already pissed at you? Really? Not your smartest move there, Rick."

"I have to find him," he said, "you know that. He's all we got for the baby right now. Without him, we're half screwed."

"Half?"

"We got you but you're not even a real doctor, Sam."

"Ouch."

"It's the truth."

"A painful one," I muttered before shaking my head. "She seemed more upset than angry over you just leavin' and fighting other battles than your own. What else did she say that you're not sayin' now?"

He sighed, glancing over to where Glenn was leaving the house with Maggie. "Said Carl told her he wanted to be the one to shoot Sophia."

My mouth fell open. "Oh?"

"She said he's gettin' cold."

I nodded, taking in the information. I chose my words carefully. "You think she's right?"

He shrugged, drumming his fingers on the hood of the car. "He's been different, since gettin' shot but I'm not so sure it's a bad thing, yet." He raised his brows to me, silently asking my opinion.

"Some kids just handle things differently," I told him. "My brother stayed soft, after, well," I forced a laugh, trying to ease the tension I was building by accident, "everything my dad did to us, he stayed soft. You just gotta remind him that it's okay to be a kid still."

Maggie was kissing Glenn, deeply.

"What did your dad do, if you don't mind me askin'?"

I shook my head, opening the car door. "My family isn't the best example of what to do and what not to do here, Rick. Talk to your son about what's goin' on when we get back, put your damn wife at ease for once, okay?"

He rolled his eyes at me as Glenn finally began walking over to us, clutching a rifle in his hands. I slid into the car, scooting over into the middle on the long bench seat as Rick took up behind the wheel. When Glenn got in, it wasn't as tight of a fit as I was fearing. My thighs brushed against both of theirs as the car rumbled to life and we drove away.

Rick glanced my way only once to laugh. "You really going to sit up here and not in the empty back seat?"

I wrapped my arms around both their shoulders and said to them, "How could I when I could sit this close to my best friends?"

Glenn let out a laugh and shook his head at me as I rocked them both between me softly.

We passed by our tents and I saw Nancy and Dale fluttering about the RV, taking up watch on the roof and sharing a drink. She didn't look over as we drove past and I was grateful for that. I didn't need her glare or her conversation for later. Daryl was nowhere to be seen but I could see T-Dog and Andrea walking up the path towards the house. Hopefully going to help Maggie with Beth.

When we left the property, I took note of how deserted everything felt. The road was empty, surrounded on either side by trees thick and full and ready for the autumn fall. It didn't take long until we were turning down a road into town, old brick buildings coming up on our right.

Glenn fidgeted in the seat beside me and I glanced over, brows furrowing. When he looked up from his lap, he sighed and said, "Maggie said she loves me."

Rick nodded, making a sound of agreement. "Mm–mm."

Glenn gave him a face and then looked at me and I nodded along too. He let out a little laugh and said, "She doesn't mean it. I mean," he looked out the window, "she can't."

"And why not?" I asked.

"Well, I mean–I–she's upset or confused. She's probably feeling like–"

Rick interrupted him. "I think she's smart enough to know what she's feeling."

"No," said Glenn, shaking his head. "No." Rick let out a laugh, one hand on the wheel and the other resting against the door and Glenn continued, "No, you know what? She wants to be in love so she's–she needs something to–uh–to hold onto."

"Glenn, you sound like a moron right now," I said with a laugh.

"It's pretty obvious to everyone that Maggie loves you," added Rick, "and not just because you're one of the last men standing. So what's the problem?"

He looked down at his rifle jostling against his leg. "I...I didn't say it back."

"Huh."

"I've never had a woman–"

"Oof," I chuckled.

Glenn elbowed me. "I've never had a woman say that to me before. You know, except for my mom, of course, and my sisters." Glenn had sisters? "But with Maggie, it's different. We barely, like, know each other. What–what does she really know about me? Nothing." He looked at me and then Rick. "We're practically strangers."

We were surrounded by woods again, trees moving past us swiftly as Rick stepped on the gas. I frowned slightly at Glenn, picking at the handle of my ax in my lap. "Well, Glenn, maybe you need some practice."

"Practice?"

I nodded. "So you don't stand there like a jerk if she says it again." I turned to face him in the car, bending my knee to sit more comfortably. "Take my hands."

"No?"

I glared. "Take my hands." He did so, hesitantly. I looked him deeply in the eyes. "Glenn Rhee, I love you." His brows furrowed and his eyes darted from mine and to Rick who was holding his breath so he wouldn't laugh. "You're really supposed to say it back now, Glenn, this is getting embarrassing."

"Oh god," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "How am I supposed to say it to her if I can't even say it to you?"

"You love her, don't you?"

Glenn looked up from his hands and nodded.

"See," said Rick, "this is a good thing. We don't get a lot of these moments much these days. Enjoy it. Enjoy what you have with her." He smiled softly as I turned to sit back in my seat properly. "And, when we get back, return the favor."

"And don't make that face you made with me," I said and Glenn elbowed me again.

"It's not like she's goin' anywhere," added Rick, giving Glenn more peace of mind.

The road changed, a brick town square emerging in patterns of red and white brick. It was exactly as I had pictured it to be for a small town. Local shops with their own sigils and names, all the same coloring. All abandoned. From either side of the four way stop square were homes, potentially more shops, but I couldn't tell. Most of it looked rundown and weathered by rust and time.

Rick stopped the car in front of some of the shops and as he did so, Glenn let out a deep breath and muttered, "Rick, I know about Lori, her being pregnant. Sam does, too."

Throwing me under the bus, it seemed.

"I got her those pills," said Glenn.

Rick sighed, taking the keys out of the ignition. "I figured."

He got out of the car and closed the door, the car rocking with the movement as both Glenn and I tumbled out to follow him. He had his gun out, clicking the safety off as he walked slowly up towards the bar. It had one of those cute old signs that said 'carriage bar' in fancy writing hanging from the awning.

"Hey," said Glenn, "I'm sorry I kept it from you."

"Don't be," said Rick. "You did what you thought was right. It just so happens it wasn't." He glanced back at us as we trailed behind him up the porch and towards the door. "Watch my back, Glenn" he instructed, "and Sam, follow me up on the right."

I nodded, coming up beside him as he kicked down the door and we slid inside, guns raised. I lowered my own gun, slipping it back into my holster when I saw what was waiting for us inside.

It was only Hershel, sitting at the far end of the bar with his back to us. The bar itself was beautiful. Glass chandelier lights hanging from the ceiling over groups of small tables. A blue double-door fridge labeled 'cold beer.' A mirrored wall behind the bar, pictures plastered to the wall of past patrons. There were even old wooden pianos against the walls to my left, closed up and covered in dust, but still there nonetheless.

This place, I imagined, had once been full every night. People at every table, some dancing to the piano, others hustling at the bar with smiles and laughter. I imagined John would've liked a place like this, full of people, full of witnesses, full of alcohol and beer.

"Hershel," said Rick in a cautious tone as Glenn closed the door behind us.

"Who's with you?" he asked us with a deep sigh. I half-expected him to believe Maggie had come running down here to bring him back.

"Glenn," said Rick, "and Sam."

"Maggie sent him?"

"No," I said, sheathing my weapon in my belt loop. "He volunteered, actually."

I stepped forward first, walking through the bar. The floorboards creaked under my feet and there were footprints in the dust. I took a seat beside Hershel on the bar where it curved. The old man took a tiny sip of whatever he had in his glass and I noted that it was a near clear golden color.

"How many have you had?" asked Rick, coming up on his other side.

Hershel sighed again. "Not enough." He still wore the crisp white button up he'd worn underneath his suit earlier. The suspenders black and stark against the cleanliness of the fabric. I'd never seen a white so pretty.

Rick leaned closer and whispered, "Let's finish this up back at home."

Home. What a funny word to Hershel.

"Beth collapsed," said Rich, finally earning Hershel's attention, "and is in some sort of state. Must be in shock, and I think you are too."

"Maggie's with her?" asked Hershel and I took hold of the bottle he'd been drinking from. It was green and grimy with age, sticky on the outside.

"Yes, but Beth needs you."

Hershel glanced at me. "And why aren't you there with her?"

"Because someone needed to bring you home," I murmured, placing the bottle back down and I noted how his eyes tracked it back to the table.

"What could I do?" moaned Hershel, looking down into his glass and sloshing the liquid side to side. "She needs her mother. Or rather to mourn...like she should've done weeks ago. I robbed her of that." His shoulders were slumped. He looked almost pathetic. "I see that now."

"You thought there was a cure," said Rick, shaking his head. "Can't blame yourself for holding out hope."

"We thought there was one, too," I added and Hershel kept his head down at his glass. "We had the same hope, the same thoughts that things...that things were gonna get better."

"Hope?" croaked Hershel. Behind him, Glenn looked back and forth between us and the doors. He glanced at me with a phantom of a smile. "When I first saw you running across my field, and you," he looked to Rick, "with your boy in your arms...I had little hope he would survive."

"But he did," said Rick.

Hershel nodded to that. "He did. Even though we lost Otis. Your man Shane made it back and we saved your boy." His tone sounded almost accusatory when he mentioned Shane by name. I couldn't disagree with him. I knew exactly what had happened out there and I'd kept my mouth shut. "That was the miracle that proved to me miracles do exist." He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Only it was a sham, a bait and switch. I was a fool, Rick, and you people saw that." He was silent for a moment as he bowed his head before looking up and saying, "My daughters deserve better than that."

He took a long sip from his glass before clanking it back down. He reached for the bottle, uncorked the top with a pop, and poured more. I sat with him as Glenn and Rick went to the door, looking outside to keep watch for any straggling walkers. We didn't need to be surprised or jumped.

I took the glass from him and took a whiff, grimacing. I handed it back to him and mumbled, "That's strong."

"I know."

"Maggie said you'd stopped drinking when she was born."

He shrugged. "Not all habits die, Sam." His brows were beginning to furrow as he listened in on Rick and Glenn. They were discussing how long it'd take to get him in the car and if he'd be passed out by then from how hard he was drinking. In all honesty, I wasn't sure how much he'd personally drunk and how much had been left in the bottle before he arrived. but it didn't matter because he was hitting the table and snapping, "Just go!"

"I promised Maggie I'd bring you home safe," said Rick, stalking back towards us.

Hershel scoffed. "Like you promised that little girl?"

My heart skipped a deadly beat and it took a moment before Rick began to speak and I could breathe again.

"So what's your plan, huh? You gonna finish that bottle?" snapped Rick, his feet heavy on the floor. "Drink yourself to death and leave your girls alone?"

Hershel slammed his glass down and stood, turning to face Rick with a glare as he snapped, "Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm. You people are like a plague!" He was slurring, spitting his words more viciously. "I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!"

"The world was already in bad shape when we met," hissed Rick. His face was flushed.

"And you take no responsibility! You're supposed to be their leader!"

"Do not put all of this on him," I snarled, getting to my feet to stand beside Rick. "He has done everything he can for us and fought against everything you've tried to do to kick us off your land." Hershel's face was red, far redder and angrier than Rick's was. "He's here now."

"Yes," muttered Hershel, breathless. He took a wobbly step back. "Yes, yes you are." It took him a moment to get back to his seat, his chest puffed out and breathing deeply. He sat back down heavily in his chair and picked up his glass.

I rubbed my face. The bar didn't have good circulation. It was stuffy and smelled cheap. "Hershel, we need to go. Beth needs you. Maggie needs you."

He drank deeply. When he pulled his glass away and swallowed, he turned to face Rick again and said, "I didn't want to believe you. You–you told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick. I chose not to believe that!" There was a sadness twisting up in his face. "But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept coming, that's when I knew what an ass I'd been. That Annette had been dead long ago and that I was feeding a rotten corpse!" His voice was breaking and I wanted to put my arms around him, cradle him and tell him it was okay. "That's when I knew there was no hope. And when that little girl came out of the barn, the look on your face––I knew you knew it, too."

Rick didn't speak.

"Right? There is no hope," continued Hershel. "You know it now, like I do. Don't you?" Rick bowed his head before turning to glance back at both me and Glenn. He still didn't speak and Hershel took that as a sign and said, "There is no hope for any of us."

Rick wiped his mouth, jaw clenched, brows furrowed deeply. He turned on Hershel and snapped, "Look, I'm done. We're not doin' this anymore, cleaning up after you. You know what the truth is?"

Glenn came around the bar and I found my seat.

"Nothing has changed," said Rick. "Death is death. It's always been there, whether it's from a heart attack, cancer, or–or a walker. What's the difference? You didn't think it was hopeless before, did you?" Hershel didn't respond. "Now, there are people back at home trying to hang on. They need us, even if it's just to give them a reason to go on, even if we don't believe it ourselves."

"It's not about us," I said, resting an arm on the bar to lean closer. "We do this for them, it's not for us and what we believe. It's been about them, our friends, our family, our children. They need us to keep going and we get to do the hard things like believe for them."

Hershel took a moment, holding his glass tightly. He raised it to his lips, downed the rest, and placed it rim down on the counter. He stood, using both hands against the bar to do so and I felt relief surge through me.

The doors to the bar opened and all relief left like water from a broken dam. I turned quickly, hand going to my gun. There were two men standing in the doorway. Both were relatively short, one thicker than the other but he wasn't the one that struck me the most.

The one standing in front chuckled. "Son of a bitch. They're alive."

I wanted to wring Glenn's neck for not standing guard by the door. But as Rick and Hershel stared, Glenn as silent as they came, I stood and smiled at the two men. "Expecting the dead, huh?"

The smaller one nodded. "We thought a drink would be good, didn't expect anyone alive to be here of all places."

I forced a warm smile, one that had been practiced for years. "How about I pour us all some drinks? Get to know each other?"

The little one smiled and it sent something terrifying down my spine. I knew right away he was not a good person. He pulled out a chair at one of the tables as I took Hershel's bottle and two glasses off the counter and brought them over.

"I'm Dave," said the short one. He had a head of dark hair and scruff around his chin and upper lip. He gave me another smile, something so wrong about it that I wanted to break the bottle over their heads but I held back. I poured him his glass and his friend's, who wore a cap and had a bag strapped over his chest. "The scrawny lookin' douchebag over there is Tony."

"Eat me, Dave," laughed Tony. He sat behind me at the bar. I filled Tony's glass and turned to hand it to him. He gave me an unpleasant smile. He'd had a rifle strapped across his chest that he now rested against the bar for us all to see.

"Hey," chuckled Dave, "maybe someday I will."

"Glad to see you two fellas haven't lost your sense of humor," I mumbled, giving them another little smile and breath of laughter.

Dave reached for the glass. "We met on I-95 coming out of Philly. Damn shit-show that was."

Glenn raised his hand from the bar, giving them a little wave as he said, "I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people."

Rick was next, grabbing his own glass. "Rick Grimes."

"How about you, pal?" asked Dave, motioning to Hershel with his glass. "You have one?"

Hershel gave them a weary smile. "I just quit."

"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend."

"His name's Hershel," said Rick. "He lost people today, a lot of them."

Dave looked away for a moment, silence seeming to have taken over him but he raised his glass and nodded solemnly as he said, "I'm truly sorry to hear that." He looked around, thrusting his glass gently between us all. "To better days and new friends. And to our dead––may they be in a better place."

Dave shook his head once the shot was thrown back. He grimaced, leaning across the table to reach for the bottle I'd left there and my eyes tracked his movement. He had a gun strapped against his back and Rick saw it too. But Dave was smart, so it seemed. He pulled the gun out, holding it by the barrel and held it out for Rick to see.

"Not bad, huh?" he said before holding it back into his lap. "I got it off a cop."

I turned my hip against the bar where I stood beside Rick and my badge gleamed. Rick didn't even flinch as he said, "We're both cops."

"This one was already dead," emphasized Dave.

The two men looked at us long and hard. I noticed the thick chain around Tony's neck and his little cap, one you'd see a newspaper boy wear back in the sixties. He was sitting awkwardly in the stool, letting his legs lounge out before him as Dave took a more relaxed approach.

"I don't think I caught your name, sweetheart," said Dave, meeting my eyes.

"Sam," I said as sweetly as I could, puckering up my smile to force my cheekbones to appear like lollipops. I walked over, bending down to grab the bottle. It was something I'd learned to do while in school between jobs. I got better tips when I dipped down low enough to show the men my cleavage. As disgusting as some men are, it sometimes made for better money. I took the bottle, filling up his glass. "You said you're from Philly?"

"You fellas are a long ways from Philadelphia," said Rick, taking a small sip from his own glass to play his part as friendly townsfolk.

Dave let out a loud laugh. "It feels like we're a long way from anywhere."

Rick, his glass held up to his mouth said before he drank, "Well, what drove you south?"

"Well," said Dave, "I can tell you it wasn't the weather." He glanced towards me, eyes racking down my body before he laughed again and rubbed his face. "I must've dropped thirty pounds in sweat alone down here."

Tony chuckled to himself. "I wish."

"No, first it was D.C.," said Dave. "Heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were so jammed we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, keep hauling ass." He sighed, shaking his head. "Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing."

Tony nodded, chiming in. "One guy told us there was a coast guard sitting in the Gulf, sending ferries to the islands." He had an accent I couldn't quite place. Jersey, maybe?

"Latest was a rail yard up in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country," added Dave with a nod. I didn't like the way they were looking between each other, like they were making sure their stories were right or that they were foolishly tricking us. "Kansas, Nebraska––"

"Nebraska?" asked Glenn, his brows were furrowed but he didn't seem too concerned. He was leaning against the bar casually but maybe that was him game. Trick them into thinking we were cool.

"Low population," said Tony. "Lots of guns."

Glenn nodded, looking down at his hands. "Kinda makes sense."

"Ever been to Nebraska, kid?" asked Dave and Glenn looked up. "A reason they call 'em flyover states." Both men laughed softly and Rick took another sip of his drink but I watched Tony. He was side-eyeing Dave and the little man cleared his throat and looked at us. "How about you guys?"

Red flags that had been blaring in my head since they entered went more feverish. I gave Dave a little coy smile and said, "We were thinkin' Fort Benning."

"Eventually," added Rick with another smile. We met eyes and we kept our smiles but I could tell he was thinking the same as I was. These guys weren't to be trusted, not even for a second.

"I hate to piss in your cornflakes, officers," said Dave, "but we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning. He said the place was overrun by lamebrains."

"Wait, Fort Benning is gone?" gasped Glenn.

I sighed. "Makes sense." Hadn't I been saying this from the start? "The bases were always the first place people would run to after hospitals."

Dave looked down, picking at his jeans and the gun he'd kept in his lap. "Oddly, the truth is, there is no way out of this mess. Just keep going from one pipe dream to the next, praying one of these mindless freaks doesn't grab hold of you when you sleep."

"If you sleep," muttered Tony, as if this was a bit they'd practiced together. When to chime in, when to laugh, when to cry.

"Yeah," said Dave, glancing about in a quicker tone than before, "it doesn't look like you guys are hanging your hats here. You holed up somewhere else?"

"We wish," I said with a laugh, shaking my head.

"Not a camp anywhere?"

"Not really," said Rick, resting a foot on his knee.

"Those your cars out front?"

"Yeah," said Glenn and I wanted to strike him. I turned around slowly to grab a glass off the table and met his eyes and I glared. "Why?" he added, nervously.

"We're living in ours," said Dave. "Those look, uh, kinda empty and clean. Where's all your gear?"

Hershel cleared his throat. "We're with a larger group out scouting, thought we could use a drink."

"A drink?" laughed Dave. "Hershel, I thought you quit." No one spoke, only looked at the two men until Dave said, "We were thinking of setting up around here. Is it–is it safe?"

"It can be," said Glenn and my god, did I want to reach out and slap him over the head, "although, I did, uh, kill a few walkers around here."

"Walkers? That's what you call them? That's good," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I like that better than lamebrains."

Tony nodded. "More succinct." I noted his vocabulary. Not every ordinary man knew what that word meant. They made a joke about Tony going to college but no one from our side said a word as Tony looked at us.

Dave rubbed his chin. "So what–so what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something? The new development?" Hadn't that been the place Shane and Andrea had gone too and found it overrun? It would be easy to send them over there, have them face what we did...

"Trailer park or something?" asked Tony as he stood, crossing the room. He held his rifle in a loose grip by his side and I wondered how easy it would be to disarm him like I had Daryl in the quarry. "A farm?"

Dave's voice shook us all from our thoughts as he sang a melody, "Old McDonald had a farm..." Tony chuckled at that and Dave met Rick's eyes. "You got a farm?"

Rick didn't respond because the sound of Tony pissing in the corner turned us all his way. He was singing softly to himself the rest of the song and I wondered if he was pretending to be drunk, pretending to be a little loose on his feet to make us feel comfortable.

"Is it safe?" asked Tony and Dave quickled added, "It's gotta be. You got food? Water?"

Tony chuckled again. "You got any cooze?" I felt my face get red and I had to bite down on my cheek not to lash out. He glanced over his shoulder and met my dangerous stare before saying, "Not to be disrespectful, officer, but it's been a long time since we'd seen a...woman, especially one like yourself. We ain't had a piece of ass in weeks."

I knew instantly that if these men were to somehow get the upper hand and kill Rick, Hershel, and Glenn, I would wish to god they would kill me too not long in their custody. It made my fingers itch to grab my ax, to swing it up into Tony's jaw and slice through flesh. It made me almost want to dig my fingers into his eyes and gouge them out myself.

Dave shook his head. "Ignore my friend," he told me and I turned slowly to meet his strange eyes. He was wearing a shirt with a shark on it, the sleeve cut off, but I knew he didn't have much strength in his arms. Not like Rick. "City kids––they got no tact. No disrespect, truly." Dave turned. "So, listen, Glenn––"

"We've said enough," said Rick. Glenn had said enough. Dave knew he was the weakest link here, willing to spill anything because they were only 'new' friends but the look that had crossed Glenn's face when Tony made his comment had his lips pressed tightly shut.

"Well, hang on a second," said Dave. "This farm, it sounds pretty sweet. Don't it sound sweet, Tony?"

"Yeah, real sweet."

I didn't like the way he responded or the way he'd finally turned around to face us. He was leaning back against the post, hands on his belt.

"How about a little southern hospitality?" offered Dave. "We've got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time. I don't see why you can't make room for a few more." He was looking at Rick now. "We could pool our resources, our manpower."

"Look, I'm sorry," said Rick, "but that's not an option."

"Oh, come on," said Dave with a little grin, his eyes turning to me. "Sam, you like us, don't you? You wouldn't mind a few more to help around? Because...it doesn't sound like it'd be a problem."

I gave him my little smile again, shaking my head. "I don't think it'd be smart, we've got some people who aren't to welcome to outsiders."

Hershel nodded. "We're sorry, but we can't."

Dave chuckled, still picking at his pants. He rubbed his brow, mumbling, "You guys are something else. I thought–I thought we were friends."

"Oh, honey," I cooed, "we just met you."

"We got people we gotta look out for too," said Dave.

Rick kept his hands in his lap, calm from head to foot. "We don't know anythin' about you."

Dave nodded, slowly. "No, that's true. You don't know anything about us. You don't know what we've had to go through out there, the things we've had to do." He looked down, just for a second before slowly looking up through his lashes. "I bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right?"

Rick stared at him and I pulled my lips apart in a teeth showing smile, I hoped he could see the fangs I wanted to tear him apart with as I asked sweetly, "What sorts of things?"

"You know," said Dave, "ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world. We're all the same. So, come on," his voice was lighter and he was smiling, "let's take a friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other."

I knew that if T-Dog, Daryl, and Shane saw these men, they would not hesitate to rip them in half. They'd be walker bait before the end of the night, if we were so lucky.

Rick smiled softly and said, "That's not gonna happen."

"Rick––"

"This is bullshit," spat Tony.

"Calm down," hissed Rick and Tony turned quickly and snapped, "Don't tell me to calm down. Don't ever tell me to calm down."

"I think," I snarled, "it'd be best if you took it down a notch, Tony." He whirled to look at me off Rick's shoulder as I stood to lean back against the bar. His face was bunched up, his strange mustache curled down with his scowl. "Don't you have any manners? You won't get what you want if you throw a tantrum."

"I'll shoot you four assholes in the head and take your damn farm!"

Rick pushed up from his seat and I stepped forward. Dave took no time in jumping to his feet and holding out his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Relax! Nobody's killing anybody," said Dave as he climbed over the bar, his gun tucked in his waistband. "Nobody is shooting anybody, right, Rick?"

Tony reached for his gun behind him and I took a step out and towards him as Rick faced Dave. From out of the corner of my eye, I watched Dave pull his gun out and lay it on the bar. His back was to the mirror and I glanced over, motioning with my eyes to Rick who followed my gaze subtly.

"We're just friends having a drink. That's all," said Dave, moving slowly. He patted the sides of his legs and glanced around under the bar. "Now, where's all the good stuff, huh? Good stuff, good stuff..." He was looking around, rubbing his hands together.

Tony was taking a step forward and I stepped in between him and Rick. I walked across the room, watching as his eyes followed me until I was leaning against one of the pillars. Dave reached under the bar and Rick's hand went to his gun but he didn't pull it free as Dave showed us what he'd found.

A bottle but I could see by the way his eyes were still glancing back that it wasn't the only thing he'd found. "Hey," he said with a smile, "look at that! That'll work." He unscrewed the cap and poured himself a long drink. "You gotta understand. We can't stay out there. You know what it's like."

He set down the bottle as Rick said, "Yeah, I do. But the farm is too crowded as is. I'm sorry, you'll have to keep looking."

They'd be dead before they ever got the chance to leave.

"Keep looking," echoed Dave, glancing back down, shifting his eyes back and forth. "Where do you suggest we do that?"

"The new development looks nice," I murmured. "Lots of good homes, bet you and your people would find it...cozy."

Rick smiled. "I hear Nebraska's nice."

Dave had his hand under the bar as he laughed. "Nebraska. This guy..."

He looked at Tony, raised his brows and reached for his gun. Rick fired a round into Dave's head as I shot one into Tony's, the bigger man falling backwards in a rain of red. He fell back against the post, his body slumping to the side and sliding down the piano.

When I glanced back, my gun sliding down into my holster, Rick met my eyes. He'd had his gun out and aimed in less than a second and he gave me a nod of approval as he walked over to look down at Tony's body.

I'd been right. They weren't going to make it out of this bar alive.

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━another update so soon <33 just for y'all 

lots of just dialogue in this one....yikes. this episode and the next in the show were like my favs from this season idk the drama was HOT

let me know what you think. shane in this chap is just ugh terrible. but sam, rick, and glenn are the trio i want to b a part of

y'all seeing that i updated // when sam looks at beth:

sam every time glenn spoke in the bar:

pls pls vote/comment <333  if you do....ILL kiss u