[ xxiv. sweep under the rug ]

november 4th, 2010

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"I COULD HAVE GOTTEN myself breakfast," Astrid insisted from her seat beside the crackling morning fire as a full plate of eggs was unceremoniously set on her lap.  "It's only been three days since you fell down a mountainside, Daryl, and you're only just finally walking without a limp."

"Yeah, but you've been dealin' with my annoyin' ass—gettin' everythin' for me," Daryl retorted.  "Figured this was the least I could do." He shrugged his shoulders as he dropped into the worn lawn chair beside her.

Around them, the camp was wide awake.  Everyone, both inside and outside of the farmhouse, was up and moving. Even Carl, who had been bedridden for the past several days, was finally back on his little feet.  Hershel's home was finally free of guests—but the same could still not be said for his yard which was gradually growing firmer in its state of a refugee shelter.

Astrid could already tell that Hershel Greene was slowly becoming irritated by their presence on his property—but he kept it hidden well, for the most part.  But not good enough for Astrid to not notice.

Astrid's thoughts were jolted from her concerns by sudden movement from Glenn. The young man stood up, visibly uneasy, and moved to address the group as they all ate their breakfast.  Astrid watched silently as he exchanged anxious glances with Dale and then locked eyes with Maggie, who stood on her front porch, her arms tightly crossed. Glenn swallowed nervously.

"Um, guys," He stammered awkwardly. "So . . . the barn's full of walkers."

Astrid's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she could not seem to comprehend the gravity of what Glenn had just revealed. The realization slowly washed over her, and she saw the terror mirrored in the faces of her companions. Her plate slipped from her lap, crashing to the ground, its contents forgotten. Panic filled the air, and before she could catch her breath, the camp erupted into chaos.

Rick moved first, and the rest immediately followed.  Astrid stepped closely in Daryl's shadow as they rushed down the dusty drive towards the big, red barn that belied the danger concealed within its weathered walls.

Astrid and the others kept their distance from the ominous structure, but Shane could not resist investigating further. He approached the double doors that had been locked up tight with a padlock.  With trepidation, he pressed against the doors and cautiously peeked through a narrow gap in the wood.

"See anything?" Astrid called out nervously.

Shane nodded, his face cold as he backed away, coming over to them. "There are dozens of them," He confirmed. He turned to Rick, outraged. "You cannot tell me that you're alright with this."

"I'm not," Rick said harshly, his eyes locked with his friend. "But we're guests here. This isn't our land."

"But these are our lives!" Shane argued, his voice rising in frustration.

"Lower your voice," Astrid hissed, her senses alerting her to the growls emanating from inside the barn. "They can hear us."

"Well, we can't just sweep this under the rug," Andrea chimed in firmly, her grip on her own knife tightening. "It's not right. Not even remotely."

Shane began to pace back and forth, his fury barely contained. He glared at the barn as if it were the embodiment of all evil. "Okay—we've either got to go in there and make things right, or we've just got to go," He said, his voice filled with urgency. "Now we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time—"

"We can't go!" Rick cut off, raising a hand angrily at Shane in warning.

"Why, Rick? Why?" Shane demanded, putting his hands on his hips.

"Because my daughter is still out there," Carol declared, stepping forward with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.

"Okay," Shane began with a dry laugh.  He covered his face with his hands and exhaled a deep, sharp breath. "Okay, I think it's time that we all start to just consider the other possibility—"

"Shane, we're not leaving Sophia behind," Rick snapped.

Carol's eyes welled up with tears, and Daryl's simmering rage boiled over. He started forward, but Astrid quickly grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back. "Hey! Astrid and I are close to findin' this girl! I just found her damn doll two days ago!" He exclaimed.

"You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did," Shane growled back. "You found a doll!"

Daryl suddenly ripped free from Astrid's grasp, his eyes ablaze with fury. He pointed accusingly at Shane, his voice trembling with rage as he screamed, "You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about!" Astrid desperately tried to reach Daryl to intervene, but Carol held her back, protecting her from the explosive confrontation that was about to unfold.

"I'm just saying what needs to be said!" Shane insisted truthfully, rounding on the seething hunter. "If you get a good lead, it's in the first forty-eight hours! It's been—"

"Shane, stop!" Rick's voice rose above the chaos, trying to create space between the two volatile men.

Shane ignored the sheriff and locked eyes with Daryl. "Let me tell you something else, man," He spat out, his words like venom. "If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!"

The air erupted into a cacophony of yells and insults as Daryl launched himself at Shane, their pent-up frustrations exploding in a physical clash. Rick desperately tried to intervene, but it was like trying to stop a tornado with bare hands. "Knock it off!" He shouted, trying to force them apart.

"Daryl, stop!" Astrid's voice rang out, filled with fear and worry as she rushed towards them. She wrapped her arms around Daryl's muscular frame, trying to pull him backward, but his adrenaline-fueled strength was overpowering. He pushed her away, and she stumbled backward. A hand suddenly braced Astrid's back and she turned, seeing a pair of warm eyes watch her in concern.  Before he could speak, she raised her hand. "I'm fine," She gasped, catching her breath. "Thanks, Glenn."

He nodded and turned back to the chaotic scene, where Andrea and Lori had joined in, trying to aid Rick in separating the brawling men. With the sheriff lodged in the middle, Andrea pushed Daryl towards Astrid and Glenn, while Lori hauled Shane back a step, but he resisted her touch. "You keep your hands off of me," He snapped, pointing a finger at her.

Elsewhere, still heaving, Daryl finally turned his attention back to Astrid.  His face was etched with remorse. "I didn't mean to do that," He said lowly.

"I know," Astrid replied, trying to soothe his rapidly growing regret. "You're okay."

"You okay?" Daryl pressed, searching her body with his eyes for any signs of injury.

"I'm okay," She reassured him.

Behind them, the confrontation continued.  Rick desperately attempted to reason with Shane, trying to find a compromise. But Shane stalked away, rejecting any attempts at resolution. "Just let me talk to Hershel," Rick pleaded after him. "Let me figure it out."

Shane abruptly whipped back around and charged towards Rick, his voice a thunderous roar. "And what are you going to figure out?!" He demanded, his eyes burning.

Lori, quick to protect her husband, jumped in between them, forcefully shoving Shane in the chest. "Enough!" She yelled, firm and commanding as she stood as a shield for Rick.

Rick's harsh voice sliced through the air as he pointed back at the barn. "If we're going to stay, if we're going to clear this barn, I have to talk him into it," He explained, his resolve unwavering. "This is his land."

Astrid could feel the tension thickening, like a storm gathering overhead, ready to unleash its fury. She anxiously watched Rick and Shane, knowing that their friendship was fractured, and it was only a matter of time before they were at each other's throats next. Fear gripped her heart, not just for them but also for Lori, who stood between the two men at her own risk of becoming caught in the crossfire.

Dale abruptly stepped forward to make his presence known, trying to defuse the situation, raising his hands carefully. "Hershel sees those things in there as people. Sick people," He insisted. "His wife, his stepson, all of them in there. People."

Rick looked bewildered. "You knew?" He asked.

Dale nodded solemnly. "I found out yesterday," He admitted. "I talked to Hershel."

"And you waited the whole night?" Astrid blurted out. "Those walkers could have broken out while we slept. How could you not tell us then?"

Dale glanced in her direction. "I thought we could survive one more night. We did," He snapped. He then turned back to Rick. "I was waiting until this morning to say something, but Glenn wanted to be the one."

Glenn shifted uncomfortably, while Shane shook his head in disbelief. "This man is crazy, Rick," He muttered in disgust. "If Hershel thinks those things are alive—!"

The rest of his cruel words were cut off by the eerie sounds of chains rattling, the barn doors creaking, and the guttural growls of the walkers inside. One by one, they all turned back towards the wooden double doors in fear, realizing they were potentially mere seconds away from being breached under the weight of the walkers, ready to swarm them all. Daryl swiftly pushed Astrid behind him, and her hand instinctively reached for the gun at her waistband.  She had yet to return it to the gun pile, and now she was damn near glad for it.

"We need to do something!" Astrid urged frantically. "Now!"

Silence hung heavy in the air, no one able to formulate a plan. Even Rick, the group's leader, was momentarily paralyzed by the unfolding nightmare. The walkers continued their relentless assault on the doors, each strike bringing them closer to breaking through.

Lori, Glenn, Dale, and Carol soon turned back towards the camp, unable to face the impending doom. Astrid bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood, and her heart pounded so loudly she feared it would drown out the world around her. Her hands trembled, and she felt like she was on the verge of collapse, unable to move.

Daryl shook her out of her shock, pushing her backward. "Get back to camp," He ordered.

She nodded, and Andrea joined her side as they hurried back up the dirt drive without another look back. Astrid's past anger towards Andrea and her trigger finger had dissolved in the face of the dire situation—of a barn filled with walkers looming right beneath their noses. Survival was all that mattered now.  It was all that ever truly mattered, she supposed.

As they walked, Andrea turned to Astrid with uncertainty. "What're they going do?" She questioned.

"Rick will figure it out," Astrid promised, maintaining her faith in him.

"What about Shane?" Andrea prodded, her voice heavy with concern.

Astrid swallowed nervously, and in that hesitation, Andrea was given her answer.  Shane Walsh was a hothead, and dangerous upon impulse, and could not likely be trusted against a threat as grave as this.  He would do whatever it took to ensure the group's safety, regardless of what kind of monster it turned him into.

Astrid glanced fearfully back at Andrea.

"He's going to kill them all."

➸➸➸

ASTRID FOUND HERSELF SITTING on the front porch steps of the farmhouse, in between Glenn and Carl, later that afternoon. The tension in the air was palpable, and her eyes were fixed on the ominous barn filled with walkers down the road. Rick had promised to talk to Hershel earlier that morning, but as the hours dragged on, there was no sign of progress.  In fact, both Hershel and Rick had seemingly disappeared entirely, leaving the rest of the group in the dark.

Maggie soon exited the house and sat down on the other side of Glenn. "You look like you should be in line for the early bird special," She teased, playfully flicking the rim of his khaki-colored bucket hat.

"Why exactly are you wearing Dale's fishing hat, Glenn?" Astrid wondered.  "Where's your baseball cap?"

"Maggie splattered it with eggs," Glenn replied weakly, almost embarrassingly, which released a chuckle from both Maggie and Astrid. The two women high-fived each other behind his back.

The eldest Greene daughter opened her mouth to continue speaking to Astrid, but the moment was interrupted by the arrival of T-Dog and Andrea as they crossed the front yard. Their presence, though innocent, only seemed to add to the sense of unease that surrounded the farmhouse.

"Where is everyone?" Andrea called.

Astrid stood up, a hint of worry in her voice. "You haven't seen Rick?" She asked.

"He went off with Hershel," Andrea explained. "We were supposed to leave a couple of hours ago."

"Yeah, you were," Daryl snapped, appearing around the side of the large house with Carol right behind him. The frustration in his voice was apparent, especially with Sophia's disappearance still looming over all of them. "Damn it, isn't anybody takin' this seriously? We got us a damn trail."  Suddenly, something in the distance caught Daryl's attention, and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Oh, here we go." The sight of Shane Walsh approaching the farmhouse with the bag of stored guns slung over his shoulder immediately set Astrid on edge.  

"You with me, man?" Shane asked Daryl, passing him a shotgun. As the hunter took the weapon willingly, he then turned to Astrid next and called out, "You got your gun?"

Astrid nodded in confusion but took the gun from her waistband anyway, her mind racing with questions. "Yes," She answered slowly. "But—Shane, what are you doing?"

"It's time to grow up," Shane declared, his tone resolute and driven by a determination that bordered on recklessness.

"Where's Dale?" Andrea asked, voicing the concern that had been on Astrid's mind as well.  Dale had been the only one—aside from Rick himself—to know where the guns had been locked away.

Shane scoffed rudely. "He's on his way," He answered as he began passing guns out to each member of the original Atlanta group.  It looked like he was preparing them all for war.

T-Dog frowned as he was handed his own firearm. "I thought we couldn't carry?" He asked, highlighting the rules that they had all followed fairly well—until now.

"We can, and we have to. Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe, but now we know it ain't," Shane explained, his eyes darting between each member of the group.  He then turned to Glenn and held out a large gun to him. "How about you, man? You going to protect what's yours?"

Glenn took the gun, but Maggie's anger over his choice was clear. "Can you stop?" She demanded of Shane. "If you do this, if you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight!"

Carl stood up beside Astrid, and she slung her arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. "We have to stay, Shane," The young boy said sternly, showing leadership and fierceness beyond his years.

"What is this?" Lori asked, appearing in the farmhouse doorway.

"We ain't going anywhere, okay? Now look, Hershel's just got to understand. He's going to have to. Now, we need to find Sophia, am I right?" Shane prompted, squatting down in front of Carl, and pulling out a tiny revolver from the bag. "Now, I want you to take this, Carl. You take it and you keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. You know how. Go on, take the gun and do it."

Lori stormed forward and pushed her son protectively behind her. "Rick said no guns," She snarled coldly, her eyes locking onto Shane's with an intense stare. "This is not your call. This is not your decision to make."

"Oh shit!" T-Dog gasped abruptly, drawing Astrid's attention. He was looking at something off in the distant fields, and she followed his gaze. Her eyes fell on the sight of Jimmy leading two walkers out of the forest—and only seconds later did she realize that he was not alone.  Rick and Hershel had trapped the walkers with snare poles and were guiding them forward, out of the trees.

"What is that?" Shane's rapid move toward the barn set everything in motion, and Astrid was the first to run after him. Daryl quickly followed suit, and soon everyone that had been gathered at the farmhouse was sprinting down the familiar dirt driveway.

Rick, Hershel, and Jimmy approached the barn with the walkers, with Astrid and the others following close behind. "What the hell are you doing?" Shane's voice rang out as he stormed forward, trying to cut off their path.

"Shane, just back off!" Rick yelled in response, his grip on the snare pole slipping as the walker inside jerked and snarled, desperate to reach them.

"Why do your people have guns?" Hershel cried out, confused.

"Are you kidding me?" Shane retorted angrily, turning towards Astrid and the others with a furious glare. "You see? You see what they're holding onto?"

"I see who I'm holding onto!" Hershel corrected, standing his ground.

"No, man, you don't!" Shane replied bitterly.

"Shane, just let us do this, and then we can talk!" Rick pleaded, his voice strained as he tried to reason with his raging friend.

"What do you want to talk about, Rick? These things ain't sick! They're not people! They're dead! Ain't going to feel nothing for them 'cause all they do is kill! They kill! These things right here, they're the things that killed Amy! They killed Otis! They killed Dominic! They're going to kill us all!" Shane's words cut through the air like a knife, causing Astrid's heart to clench with pain at the mention of her fallen brother.

And still, Shane continued his tirade, his wrath unabated. "Hey, Hershel, man, let me ask you something," He addressed, pulling his gun from his waistband and aiming it at the trapped walker in the older man's snare pole. "Could a living, breathing, person walk away from this?" Without waiting for an answer, he fired three bullets into the walker's upper body. "That's three rounds in the chest! Could someone who's alive just take that?!" He fired again, frustration and distress evident in every shot. "That's its heart! It's lungs! Why is it still coming?" He demanded, unloading more bullets into the walker's torso.

"Shane, enough!" Rick yelled angrily, his voice desperate to break through Shane's warpath.

Ignoring Rick's plea, Shane rallied upon his violent assault on the trapped walker. "Yeah, man, you're right, this is enough," He spat bitterly, his finger pulling the trigger for one final shot, this time aimed at the walker's head. The deafening gunshot echoed through the air as the walker dropped lifeless to the ground.

Astrid gasped in shock at Shane's outburst, and painfully watched Hershel collapse to the ground beside the walker's dead body. "Shane, stop!" She cried out.

"Enough! Enough of risking our lives for a little girl who's gone!" Shane bellowed as he made his way toward the barn's doors. "Enough of living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us! It ain't like it was before. Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you've got to fight for it! I'm talking about fighting right here, right now!" Astrid's heart raced in her chest as Shane began trying to pry open the barn doors, and she could see the panic in Rick's eyes as he turned to Hershel.

"Hershel, take the snare pole! Listen to me, please! Hershel!" Rick's voice was filled with urgency, but the Greene family patriarch seemed paralyzed, still struggling with the loss as it hit him in full force.  The sheriff then quickly spun back toward his former deputy, who was moments away from breaking the barn doors now. "No, Shane! Do not do this, brother! Wait!"

"Don't do this!  Not like this!" Astrid screamed, watching as he flung the padlock to the ground. "Shane, stop, please!"

"C'mon, we're out here!" Shane yelled, pounding a fist against the door. Then he backed away from the partially opened doors with his gun raised, ready to face whatever was on the other side.

Despite every instinct in her screaming to run, Astrid immediately knew that she had to help him, that they could not afford to lose control of the undead wave now that it had been unleashed. She pushed her way to the front of the group and stood beside Shane, her gun raised, ready to face the horrors that awaited them. Moments later, Andrea joined her side, and then T-Dog, Daryl, and Glenn quickly followed suit, forming a line of defense against the approaching walkers.  Behind them, Lori took a protective stance in front of Carl, determined to shield him from the danger.

The creaky doors pushed open, and the growls of the walkers filled Astrid's ears as she aimed her gun. Her breaths came in rapid gasps as the first walker emerged from the shadowy barn and headed toward them. Shane's shot rang out, killing it instantly, but more and more walkers followed, flooding out of the barn and toward their group.

Without hesitation, Astrid began firing her gun, joining the mayhem as bullets flew around her. She felt a sense of detachment as she focused on the task at hand, slipping into a trance-like state. The walkers kept coming, and she kept shooting, her heartache over what she had to do to the Greene family buried deep within her as she now fought purely for her own life.

Amidst the chaos, Rick continued to shout for someone to take the walker in the snare pole he was still being forced to hold.  Finally, Astrid turned and fired a shot at the trapped walker, eliminating the threat. Rick let go of the snare pole as the body dropped, and gave her a nod of thanks.  Astrid silently returned the gesture and looked away to the bloodshed again. As the final walker hit the dirt, Astrid stepped back from the firing line. A moment of relief washed over the group before they were engulfed in silence, broken only by the sobs of Maggie's devastated family behind them.

As Dale approached them from down the driveway with a mixture of shock and disbelief on his features, Astrid could not find the words to express her own turmoil. These were once people, now turned into monsters, and she—and others—had just taken their lives.  She had essentially played a part in the execution of the Greene family's loved ones, and had not even allowed them the opportunity to say goodbye.

The weight of Astrid's actions settled heavily on her heaving shoulders.  They were survivors, but at what cost? The line between life and death, humanity and monstrosity, had suddenly blurred.

As she tried to process the horrifying reality, a haunting growl filled the air. Astrid turned towards the barn door once more, where the sound was growing louder. Gripping her gun tightly, her heart pounded in her chest as she watched the figure emerge.  Astrid's eyes fell first on the tiny white sneakers and the little bruised ankles stuck within them, and then her gaze traveled up to the rainbow shirt and blonde hair stained with blood. A gasp of shock escaped her lips as realization hit her.

It was Sophia.

Only it wasn't Sophia anymore. This once innocent child was now a walker, a grotesque creature of death. Astrid's eyes fixated on the horrific bite on Sophia's left shoulder and the dried blood covering her graying skin. Sophia raised a tiny hand towards the sunlight, her little growls stabbing into Astrid's soul. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her heart seemed to shatter into a million pieces. This was the unimaginable consequence of a world gone mad—a child lost to the darkness.

Sobs erupted from behind Astrid, and she turned to see Carol moving toward her undead daughter. "Daryl!" The Lancaster woman ordered desperately. Daryl understood without verbal response, and immediately side-stepped in front of Carol, and wrapped his arms around her to hold her back as they both sank to the ground. 

Carol's cries echoed painfully. "Sophia," She sobbed, reaching out a trembling hand towards her daughter, unable to be any closer.  "Soph . . . S-Sophia . . ."

Despite the heartbreak, Sophia continued to advance, growling louder. They all knew what needed to be done for the child—for the threat—but none of them could bring themselves to do it. A single tear slipped down Astrid's cheek, and then a hand gripped her shoulder. She turned to see Rick, his expression agonized but steadfast in his place as their leader. Astrid stepped aside, allowing him to pass, understanding what he had to do.

Rick approached Sophia, his revolver raised, but he hesitated. The weight of this moment hung heavy in the air, and Astrid could feel the torment in his heart.

Finally, Rick shook himself out of his daze and pulled the trigger. The gunshot pierced the silence, and Astrid watched as the bullet found its mark, driving between Sophia Peletier's unseeing eyes. The lost—yet finally found—little girl fell to the ground.

Dead.

~~~~~~~~~~