[ xx. could be something ]

october 30th, 2010

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IN THE DEPTHS OF the forest, a single gunshot had shattered the silence, its deafening echo rippling through the trees.  For a moment, the group froze upon the startling, near-paralyzing sound.  Yet, when it was clear it had not been fired in their direction, Astrid and the others pressed on through the wood, continuing their journey back to the highway.

However, some were more easily able to ignore the cold, defining promise of a bullet fired than others.  Lori Grimes' persistent questions hung heavy in the air like a harbinger of doom, refusing to be silenced. 

"Why one gunshot?" She asked again.

"Maybe they took down a walker?" Glenn offered, sparing a glance back at the woman as he walked beside Astrid.

Lori shook her head fiercely, her concern unshakeable. "No, Rick and Shane would have taken it down quietly," She insisted. "Something's wrong."

Daryl exhaled sharply.  He was clearly growing more annoyed by the minute. "What can we do about it?" He grumbled. "We don't even know it was them for sure."  He readjusted his grip on his crossbow, holding it tightly as he continued to stalk forward through the tall grass.  "Let's just get back to the highway."

"How much farther?" Astrid asked, staring up through the treetops.  The sun was steadily setting, and they needed to get out of the forest before they were lost to it, too. 

"Not much.  Maybe a hundred yards as the crow flies," Daryl replied from over his shoulder.

"Too bad we're not crows," Andrea muttered, her voice barely audible somewhere behind Astrid. The Lancaster woman managed a tired grin and chuckled lightly under her breath at the sarcastic comment. Andrea returned the smile as she slowed her pace even further, obviously growing more exhausted from the long day's hike.  Astrid soon turned her attention back to Carol and Glenn, walking onward beside them.  As she stepped over a large fallen branch, a chilling scream pierced the air, causing her blood to freeze. "AHHHH!"

Astrid whipped around in alarm. "Andrea?" She yelled.  She frantically scanned the woodland area, but Andrea had vanished from sight. Without a second thought, she bolted back in the direction she had come, pushing past Lori, and darted through the trees in search of her friend who had fallen behind.  Finally, she caught sight of her, sprawled on the leafy ground, struggling against a relentless walker, death inching closer with every passing second. "No!" Astrid cried.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Astrid sprinted forward, her hand gripping the hilt of her machete as she charged toward the snarling walker.  Just as she neared the fallen Andrea, a massive figure emerged from the trees to their left, swiftly taking down the threatening undead before Astrid could do it herself.  The Lancaster woman's heart raced as strong arms wrapped around her from behind, effectively pulling her away from the newfound danger. She turned to see Glenn, his eyes fierce, sheltering her from harm.

Andrea, saved and back on her feet, stared up in sheer shock as the group around her gazed at the rescuer—revealed to be a young woman on horseback. "Lori? Lori Grimes?" The stranger questioned loudly.  She scanned the faces of Astrid and the others, the urgency in her eyes matching the gravity of her message.  Astrid instinctively stepped forward, forming a protective barrier around her group.   How could this stranger possibly know Lori's name?

Lori bravely approached the mysterious girl. "That's me," She informed cautiously.

The young woman wasted no time in conveying her dire news.  "Rick sent me.  You've got to come now," She pleaded, extending her hand towards Lori.

"What?" Lori gasped.

"There was an accident. Carl's been shot. He's still alive, but you need to come now. Rick needs you. Just come!" The girl implored, desperation written all over her youthful face.  The group stood in stunned silence, processing the horrific revelation of their youngest group member's state. Little Carl, shot? How could that possibly happen? Where had he been hit? Perhaps it was best Astrid did not know.

Ignoring the pain that tugged in her bones, Astrid took charge, accepting Lori's backpack and stepping back as the latter crossed to the stranger on horseback.  The Lancaster woman knew they could not linger and had to act swiftly.  Lori needed to go.  But Daryl's anger flared, questioning the stranger's intentions almost instantly. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He protested.  "We don't know this girl! You can't go with her!"

"Rick said you had others on the highway?" The girl asked.  The group had barely begun to nod their heads before she proceeded to give them her address—a farmland property.   There was a sense of urgency in the stranger's demeanor that demanded trust.  Astrid barely had time to memorize the given address before Lori climbed onto the back of the horse, the desperate need to reach her injured son overcoming any reservations.

"Go with her, Lori," Astrid urged.  "We'll find you when we can."

With that, the mysterious girl and Lori rode off into the forest, disappearing into the shadows like a fleeting apparition, leaving the group stunned and disoriented.  Astrid's mind was racing in the aftermath, her heart torn between worry for Carl and the uncertainty of Lori's newfound fate. 

"What the hell was that?" She finally managed to voice her thoughts, but no one could provide an answer. The tense silence was broken only by the moans of the walker that the girl had knocked down before.  Astrid readied her knife, but Daryl swiftly silenced the undead threat.

"Shut up," He snapped at the reanimated corpse before leading the way in the direction they still needed to go. Astrid and the others reluctantly followed, their emotions swirling in turmoil, as they trekked toward the distant highway.

Finally, after what felt like another several hours, the rusty railing leading to the highway came into view. Astrid swung over it, and stepped back onto solid asphalt, following closely behind Daryl.  As they approached the RV, Dale rushed forward, his face pointed with concern.

"Where's Rick?" He asked.

"Rick and Shane are with Carl," Astrid answered wearily. "They wanted to stay behind and scout the area a little longer, but then . . . Carl was shot."

"Shot?" Dale gasped in disbelief. "What on earth do you mean he was shot?"

Taking a seat on the railing, Astrid allowed Glenn to take a place beside her, and he began to explain, "I don't know, Dale. Honestly, all I know is that some chick rode out on her horse like Zorro and took Lori with her."

Dale turned his attention to Daryl, his eyes accusing. "And you just let her?" He questioned.

"She knew Lori and Carl's names," The hunter snapped back, matter-of-fact. "Rick sent her."

The atmosphere grew tense as Astrid took a small sip of water, trying to quench both her thirst and the rising anxiety within her. Carol sat down on her other side, her face still haunted with worry for her daughter.  Elsewhere, Dale's eyes fell on Andrea, who was making her way towards the RV, seeking a moment of solitude, perhaps, to process the trauma she had endured. "I heard screams, too. Andrea, was that you?" He inquired.  Andrea merely turned towards Dale, her eyes flashing, and then without a word, she stalked off into the RV, the door slamming shut behind her.  Dale's concern persisted, and he turned back to Astrid and the others, demanding answers. "What happened?" He pressed.

Astrid's stiffened, recounting the harrowing encounter that had befallen her friend. "She was attacked by a walker," She whispered, her gaze still fixated on the RV where Andrea had sought refuge. "It was a close call."

Dale's eyes reflected a deeper sadness.  But he could not dwell on such news—not with what else was unfolding around them.  "So where did Lori and this woman go?" He asked, trying to understand the prior sequence of events.

Glenn proceeded to recount all that had transpired, including relaying the mysterious woman's address, which Astrid had already managed to forget.  She felt Daryl's gaze on her, and she gave him a small nod of reassurance.  The hunter quietly returned the gesture, unmoving.

"Should we go to this place?"  Glenn's question hung in the air like a dark cloud, his eyes scanning each member of the group, searching for a consensus.

Carol's fear erupted, and she stood up from beside Astrid on the railing, her voice tinged with anger. "How could you even think that?" She demanded. "We can't just leave.  I won't do it!" She attempted to retreat to the RV, leaving Astrid to watch her go with a heavy heart.

"Carol, the group is split," Dale tried to remind her. "We're scattered and weak."

Carol, tears glistening in her eyes, wiped them away and argued, "But what if she comes back and we're not here? It could happen!"

Andrea reappeared in the RV doorway.  "If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful," She said.

"They're right," Astrid declared, standing up.  In a mere instant, she knew that something had to be done, and she would volunteer to make the fateful decision herself.  "I'll stay behind and keep a lookout for her."

"Alright—but we've got to plan for this," Daryl insisted.  "I say tomorrow mornin', we pull up the stakes, rig her a big sign, and leave her some supplies. Astrid and I will stay back tonight with the RV."

Astrid nodded, silently grateful that Daryl had stepped up so quickly.  Because while she would have done it, she did not want to spend an entire night on that highway alone.  Not with the echoing fear of another herd of walkers rolling through.

"Well, if the RV is staying, then I am, too," Dale asserted.

"Me, too," Andrea announced.

Carol, though tearful, managed to give a small smile of gratitude. "Thank you. All of you," She whispered.

The group's decision made, the four survivors turned towards the RV to settle in for the approaching night. Trailing behind, Glenn stepped forward, and tried to offer his own pledge, "If everyone else is staying, then I'm staying."

"Oh, no, you're not," Dale intervened, shaking his head firmly. "You know the address, and T-Dog is hurt. If they're taking care of Carl at this house, that means they have some kind of doctor.  T-Dog has a severe infection, and I need you to take him to get it checked out," He instructed, pointing back to where T-Dog leaned against the bumper of the RV.  The man was wrapped in a brown wool blanket, but even from the distance Astrid stood, she could see the sweat gleaming off his dark skin.  He was burning up and was only going to get worse.  Earlier that morning, Astrid had attempted to clean and dress T-Dog's wound—suffered after he sliced his arm on a jagged piece of metal sticking out from one of the traffic snarl vehicles—but there was only so much she could work with when medical supplies were so limited.

Daryl grunted.  "Why didn't y'all say anything?" He questioned as he crossed over to his motorcycle.  He took out a baggie filled with orange pill bottles from one of his bike's side bags. "This was Merle's stash. Here.  Take some kickass painkillers," He said, tossing the bottles to Glenn, who stuffed them into his back pockets.

Glenn looked upon the new medicine appreciatively. "Okay.  Let's move T-Dog."  Slowly, they got T-Dog into the passenger's seat.  Then he and Glenn departed in Carol's Jeep, leaving Astrid, Daryl, Carol, Andrea, and Dale to the harsh emptiness of the highway.

The group finally dispersed once more, each member fading off to occupy their own thoughts and devices in an attempt to combat the long night ahead.  Eventually, Astrid gravitated from the highway railing and to another nearby car hood.  Her gaze was fixed on her gun, until Daryl joined her sometime later, lowering himself down to sit a familiar distance away.

In the silence that automatically ensued, Astrid sought to bridge the gap between them.  "You okay?" She asked softly.

Daryl nodded. "Yeah," He replied gruffly.  He turned to meet her gaze—green meeting blue in the shadows that surrounded them.  Both colors masked their own pains that lurked within guarded irises.  "Gotta be."

With that, the hunter turned away from her again.  But he did not leave.  And Astrid did not press.  Life had become a relentless struggle for survival, filled with heartache and loss, and they both knew that.  The absence of Sophia, Carl's gunshot wound, T-Dog's injury, and the group's fractured state weighed heavily on Astrid's mind.  Distantly, she pondered if they were all teetering on the edge of collapse—or if it was just her.

As the Georgian sun dipped below the horizon, darkness engulfed the Dixon man and the Lancaster woman once again.  This time, there were no stars above to hold them steady.  The night ahead seemed fraught with the unknown, and Astrid could not help but wonder how much more this group could endure before it finally broke.

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"OKAY, FIRST OFF, YOU need to pull this back before you do anything else."

Astrid's voice took on an instructive edge as she firmly addressed Andrea on the topic of weaponry.  The Harrison woman had expressed earlier in the evening that she had wanted to learn the pieces of a firearm, and since Astrid had not been tired, she volunteered to help. 

Outside, the night was silent, the highway unchanging. Dale stood guard atop the RV roof, a solitary figure, tasked with protecting them all should they need it.  Elsewhere, Daryl lay sleeping in the cramped aisleway, while Carol's heartbreaking sobs echoed from the back bedroom.  The Peletier mother was clearly not getting any rest.  Andrea and Astrid had stopped in their efforts to comfort the woman—nothing they said could possibly help anymore.

Andrea sighed in frustration. "This is far more complicated than I imagined," She confessed. "Just saying I can do it doesn't mean a thing if I can't get it right."

Astrid's eyes sparkled with empathy as she spoke. "It takes practice.  When my brother taught me how to handle a gun, I was terrible—worse than you," She admitted, a wry smile crossing her face. "I even almost shot him once."

Andrea's eyes widened, hanging onto every word of Astrid's dramatic recounting. "How did that happen?" She inquired, her curiosity piqued despite the seriousness of their conversation.

"I can't say for sure. It all happened so fast. I swear it was a malfunctioning gun," Astrid said. "But that was just with a pistol.  Don't even ask about my attempts with a shotgun. Let's just say I'll never touch one of those again, unless someone truly skilled can teach me."

As Andrea listened, a flicker of admiration lit up her face. "What did your brother do before all of this?" She asked.  "What did you do before all of this?"

"He was an undercover agent," Astrid replied, her voice tinged with both pride and sadness. "And I was training to become a nurse."

"A nurse?  Really?"  Andrea's eyes softened with sympathy. "Maybe you should have gone with Glenn and T-Dog.  You could have helped Carl," She suggested.

Astrid shook her head, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "I doubt it," She grumbled. "My training was cut short when everything went to hell. Classes were canceled indefinitely.  No more school, no more dreams."

Suddenly, Daryl emerged at the edge of their table.  Astrid had not even heard him wake, nor seen him climb to his feet in the aisleway.  He snatched the newly assembled gun from Astrid's hands. "Goin' to need the clip," He said, his demeanor as rugged as ever. 

Astrid loaded the bullets into the clip before passing it over.  She saw his crossbow slung over his shoulder.  "Where are you going?" She wondered.

"I'm goin' to head out and search for Sophia a little bit," Daryl replied as he pushed open the RV door and stepped outside into the night.  "Don't wait up."

Undeterred, Astrid waited all of ten seconds before she handed her own gun to Andrea.  As she equipped her machete, she felt an unignorable pull to join Daryl in the search for the missing girl.  "Work on taking that piece apart and then putting it back together," Astrid urged Andrea.  The latter nodded in understanding and began working on her task once more, as the former turned away and jumped down the RV steps. 

In her haste, she almost collided with Daryl, the hunter standing just outside the door, his eyes gleaming with a smug smirk. "What's so funny?" Astrid demanded.

"I jus' knew you'd follow me," Daryl said easily as Astrid fell into step beside him.  Together, they ventured down the dark road, their footsteps echoing through the still silence, Behind them, Dale inquired distantly about their destination.  "I want to shine a little light in the forest.  If she's out there, it'll give her somethin' to look at," Daryl explained to the elder man.  Dale nodded quietly in understanding before returning to his own watch, leaving Astrid to follow Daryl's lead into the unknown.

As they walked, Astrid swallowed the lump in her throat, unable to bear the sight of the abandoned cars filled with lifeless bodies. Daryl's impassive presence offered a semblance of reassurance, but she could feel his penetrating gaze on her, his eyes never leaving her form, even as they left the road and soon entered the trees.

"Why do you stare at me all the time?" Astrid questioned, her voice twisted with a blend of curiosity and unease.  She had turned on her flashlight to navigate the blackness of the forest, and she kept her gaze ahead on its promising beam, fearful of what expression she might find on the hunter beside her.

Daryl exhaled softly in the dark.  "Jus' like watchin' you," He answered candidly, catching her off guard. "Like watchin' your expressions.  You don't ever react to things like the others do."

His honesty left Astrid unsure of how to respond. "Is that a bad thing?" She asked.  Deep in her chest, her heart had begun to thud faster in anticipation of his answer.

The hunter's head shook gently. "I haven't decided yet," He admitted.

His enigmatic response stirred a whirlwind of emotions and conflict within the Lancaster woman.  As they walked through the dark forest, Astrid's mind spun as she tried to navigate the layers behind Daryl's answer, but it was like trying to unravel a complex puzzle with missing pieces.  Astrid glanced at Daryl discreetly, studying his rugged features, searching for any clues to decipher his intentions. She wondered if he saw something deeper within herself that others did not, something extremely profound, and if that was the reason that he could not decide whether to deem that discovery a good or bad thing.

Finally, Astrid looked away from the hunter again.  She was desperate to divert attention away from herself.  "Do you really think we're going to find Sophia out here tonight?" She asked.

"We could.  Jesus, these aren't the mountains of Tibet.  It's Georgia," Daryl grumbled. "People get lost and found alive all the time out here."

"She's only twelve, Daryl," Astrid reminded him.

Daryl scoffed, dismissing her worries with a hint of bitterness. "Hell, I was younger than her and got lost," He revealed. "Nine days in the woods eatin' berries and wipin' my ass with poison oak."

Astrid's shock was evident in her wide green eyes as she listened intently. "Nine days?"  She repeated.  "Well, did someone find you?  Or did you have to find your own way back?" She prodded, curious about how he had survived something so traumatic when he was so young.

"My old man was off on some bender with some waitress, and Merle was doin' another sentence in juvi, so they didn't even know I was gone," He explained.  "Made my way back though.  Went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. I was no worse for wear 'cept my ass itched somethin' awful."

Astrid could not help herself when laughter suddenly erupted from deep within her.  The sound of her laughter seemed out of place in the desolate woods, but she could not contain it. Daryl's intense gaze bore into her as she continued to laugh, her body trembling with a mix of relief and amusement—both reactions crafted purely by him—and for him. 

Astrid's laughter eventually subsided again, and she glanced back at Daryl, who had now turned his attention back to the woods. "Sorry, that wasn't funny," She apologized.

Daryl's nonchalant response surprised her as he shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway . . . Sophia has someone lookin' for her," He remarked, displaying an expected glimmer of empathy. "I figure that's an advantage I didn't have—and I made it back just fine. So will she."

Nodding in agreement, Astrid's attention was suddenly diverted by rustling from beyond the trees. Instinctively, they pressed forward, Daryl's crossbow raised, and her machete gripped tightly.  Then, through the faded beam of her flashlight, she saw it.

"There," Astrid whispered slowly, as she pointed ahead into the brush.  Daryl turned to follow her direction, and they cautiously approached a tree off the path where ominous growls emanated from it.  Daryl positioned himself protectively in front of Astrid as she shined her flashlight upwards into the thick branches, revealing a chilling sight—a walker hanging from the tree.

"What the hell?" Daryl began, his voice a mix of disbelief and indignation. Astrid stared up curiously at the grotesque spectacle as Daryl continued forward, but she remained rooted in place. The walker was bound by a rope around its neck, reaching out towards them, its undead existence seemingly suspended in a cruel limbo.

Daryl reached up and pulled something from the tree trunk—a note, which he read aloud, "Got bit, fever hit, world gone to shit, might as well quit."  Astrid's heart sank as Daryl tossed the crumpled note aside.  "Dumbass didn't know well enough to shoot himself in the head.  He was nothin' but a big swingin' piece of bait," The hunter noted. "What a mess."

Daryl took a step back from the tree, but Astrid had yet to move.  "Can you shoot him?" She asked.

"Nah, it's a waste of an arrow. Reckon this is the closest he's been to food since he turned. Look at him, hangin' up there like a big piñata," Daryl remarked as he shone his own flashlight back on the unfortunate walker. "All the other geeks came and ate all the flesh off his legs."

Astrid did not need to look—did not want to look.  Her empty stomach churned with revulsion, imagining the nasty scene that had unfolded. She tried to steady herself, placing her hands on her knees, but her body betrayed her, swaying, as her eyes clenched shut in an attempt to block out the nauseating reality. "Please shut up," She muttered, her voice thick with disgust.

Daryl's chuckle in response grated against Astrid's growing nausea. "Consider that payback for laughin' at my itchy ass," He retorted, clapping her on the shoulder as she still leaned forward.  With a decisive turn, Daryl then redirected his focus away from the still-snarling walker and back towards the trail they had been following. "C'mon, let's head back," He called.

Determined not to leave the walker hanging in an endless rotten afterlife, Astrid stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not leaving until we shoot him," She declared firmly.  "I'd do it myself, but I left my gun with Andrea.  Imagine if this was you, Daryl. Wouldn't you want to be put down, too?"

"I wouldn't be stupid, or cowardly enough to hang myself," Daryl grumbled, his pride clashing with the compassionate side Astrid had just witnessed.  Nonetheless, he handed her the crossbow, an unexpected act. "Here, take it."

"What?" Astrid asked, confused.

"Take it," Daryl repeated.  "Need to learn how to hold it right, anyway."

He pushed the crossbow into her chest, and Astrid was given no choice but to take it.  Her hands fumbled slightly beneath the newfound weight.  The crossbow was surprisingly heavy and bulky, and she had not the slightest idea of how to grip it.  "What do I do?" Astrid asked.

Daryl took a step closer and rounded out Astrid's left side.  She could feel his warmth on her back, but he did not touch her, did not try to force her body into a different position.  "Bolt's already pulled back.  All you need to do is line up the shot."  She cautiously lifted the crossbow at his words, taking aim at the snarling walker above, and one of Daryl's hands reached out softly, his fingertips ghosting her left elbow, pushing slightly to hoist the weapon even higher.  "Then . . ." His breath tickled her ear as Astrid's right hand shifted upon the other end of the crossbow, and her index finger curled loosely around the bolt's cueing.  Daryl was still supporting her left arm, even as he whispered, "Pull the trigger."

Astrid did and watched with bated breath as the bolt soared into the walker's skull.  Its growls were silenced in an instant, and its body now hung limply from the rope.  Astrid was left breathless as she looked upon her newest kill and lowered the crossbow.  Daryl's hand fell away from her arm, but he did not step back.  He was still beside her in the dark. 

As Astrid and Daryl stood together, bound by death, the atmosphere crackled.  Unbeknownst to even themselves, the rush from encountering the walker and the emotional weight of Sophia's disappearance had left them both feeling wired and adrenalized.  Faces illuminated within strayed flashlight beams, Astrid and Daryl locked eyes for a moment, their gazes intense and searching.  Their bodies leaned in slightly, drawn together by an irresistible—and uncontrollable—force.

But a rustling sound nearby jolted them both back to reality.  Daryl pulled away first, and Astrid quickly followed.

"What was that?" She whispered.  Her heart was pounding, but it was not from fear. That was odd.

Daryl's eyes scanned the shadowy swaying trees behind her.  No longer did he meet her gaze.  "Don't know. Could be nothin', could be somethin'," He said as he gently retrieved his crossbow from her grasp.  "We should head back, jus' to be safe."

Astrid nodded, trying to compose herself as they turned back toward the direction of the highway.  The interruption had broken the spell, their balance—at least for the moment.  At least for Astrid.  She could not dare begin to wonder what unfoiled within the hunter's sharp mind. In fact, she did not want to.

Daryl glanced over at her, eyeing her cautiously, as they walked back through the dark wood, but Astrid did not look at him again.  She recognized that the growing bond between herself and the hunter was undeniable—and confusing—but each of her steps felt heavier now, burdened by the thought of what could have just potentially been splintered from their pairing back on that forest path.  What the hell had that possibly been, and why was Astrid still thinking about it?

Could be nothing.  Could be something.

By the time they returned to the highway and parted ways, the intensity of their unspoken exchange had left Astrid Lancaster—and perhaps Daryl Dixon, too—feeling more than weary and vulnerable.

As if they had opened a dangerous door that they could no longer quite close.

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take a guess at who leaned in first. hope you're all enjoying the story. would love to hear some feedback xx