Chapter 005

Looking up from the dust-covered sink that is stationed within the RV, my own eyes catch the gaze of eyes that oddly resembled my own. The same pool of green and brown stare back at me, taking in each inch of my face. Layers of blood and dirt coat the very skin that had once been so soft and clean, covering the very face I call my own like a mask. It was hard to recognize the woman that stares back at me through all the blood and dirt, even with the hazel eyes that match mine. Forcing myself to avert my gaze from my own reflection, I look down at my hands that look just the same - if not worse.

Not wanting to stare at my body anymore, I force myself to walk out of the small bathroom within the RV. After the events that happened yesterday, I can feel that my body is drained just like everyone else's just outside. I had been forced to sit down for the last hour after showing signs of being injured since I had rolled my left ankle last night during the attack. Dale had even taken it upon himself to take a look at the injury, chalking it up to be a mildly sprained ankle. He even took it upon himself to tell me of all those that we had lost last night, which nearly had me in tears myself.

We had lost an elderly couple that had been so kind to us, and if I remember correctly their names were Dorothea and John Michaels. They had always told the kids stories of all the things that they had been through, and would always boast about how they've been together for over fifty years - having gotten married at eighteen. The two even told us about their seven kids that were scattered all over the United States, stating that they couldn't wait to see them once this world went back to the way it was. My heart shatters at the thought of their children, for they will never get to know if their mom or dad is still alive. And my heart shatters for the fact that Dorothea and John didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to those they raised and loved with their whole hearts.

Heather and her son, Sam had also lost their lives in the attack, which left us all heartbroken. Although the two mainly kept to themselves and grieved the loss of their beloved husband and father, they were still a member of this group. The only thing that keeps my mind at ease when I think of them, is the fact they get to reunite with André - who is Heather's late husband and Sam's father. We also lost a woman by the name of Edna, who was at least in her late sixties. Knowing her, she went out fighting and even probably prayed in her last moments.

And lastly, the youngest person we had lost during the attack was Amy Harrison, a young seventeen-year-old that had so much life in her. She was always laughing and enjoying her time while she had been alive, as she always stated that life was always an adventure. Despite being in my mid-twenties, I had taken the seventeen-year-old under my wing like a big sister as I even took her older sister Andrea under my wing. The two Harrison sisters were always attached at the hip, for they believed they were the last of their family members as their parents had been on the older side with disabilities. It shatters me knowing that the young girl had been the first to go, as she had been bitten on the wrist and then the neck.

Looking out of the window of the RV, from the small kitchen - I notice that Andrea continues to stay glued to the dirt next to her little sister. The thirty-year-old holds brokenness in her sky blue eyes that I don't ever wish on anybody, the same brokenness I felt when I had lost my mother. Her cheeks are stained with the tears that had fallen over the hours that seemed to pass by her slowly. Signing at the sight, I force myself to look away as I begin to walk toward the door. Despite the strict orders from Daryl to rest up, I knew I needed to do something in order to help these people.

Once I step out of the RV and into the humid air of Georgia, I wince as I apply a little bit of pressure on my injured ankle. Forcing myself to pay no attention to the pain, I tilt my head a bit to look over toward Andrea. The broken woman spares a look in my direction, her sky blue eyes practically screaming for the pain she feels to go away. Offering a small smile toward her, I look away just as Lori walks up to her with a determined look in her brown eyes. They have probably been pestering the woman about needing to put a bullet through the teenager's head, which is wrong on so many levels.

Looking to my left I notice there is a pile of the walkers that had attacked us, as well as another pile of those that we had lost. Daryl stands next to the pile of the ones we lost, a pickaxe grasped tightly in his hands. He was probably assigned to make sure each and every one of them are dead. As he places the pickaxe down, he takes a bandana from his back pocket as he wipes sweat from his head - before he tilts his head in my direction. His crystal blue eyes lock with my hazel ones, a sadden deep within that is almost begging to be released.

Daryl gives me a curt nod before he picks up the pickaxe again, as he then brings it down on a dead one's head. Crunching my face up in disgust at the sight of blood squirting out of the puncture wound, I force myself to look away as I begin to walk toward the leather seats that had been taken from a car. The kids are currently sitting down on them as well as Carol, as she tries to keep them occupied and distracted. Halfway walking, a gentle hand touches my right shoulder causing me to tense up at the sudden action. Looking over my shoulder, I notice that the hand belongs to Lori Grimes who gives me a small smile.

"Come on." She urges as she begins to walk ahead of me and toward the direction I had been walking. Mentally rolling my eyes at the woman, I begin to follow after her just as I see something moving from behind the leather seats. A smile breaks out on my face as I recognize the grey and white fur that belongs to my service dog, as she emerges from behind the seats with a wagging tail. Bending down to a crouching position, I pat my thighs to get her to come toward me willingly. Watching as Carl unties her leash from his pants, the husky instantly starts running toward me happily.

Opening my arms wide once she is close enough, I wrap them around the dog as I begin to run my fingers through her fur. Despite having dirt and blood coating her, she still looks like a normal dog. Knowing that she wasn't hurt by Carl's and Lori's words from hours ago, I allow Millie to wiggle around in my grasp happily. Avoiding her tongue as she tries to lick me, I then stand to my feet as she finally settles down. Grabbing her leash, I tie it around Merle's belt, and my belt loop tightly. She then begins to lead me toward Lori, Carol, and the kids as Rick, Daryl, and Shane begin to join the small group.

"She still won't move?" Rick questions tiredly, probably referring to Andrea as Lori had been with the grieving woman. Raising a brow toward the man, I slowly look away as I look toward his wife. The brunette woman allows her shoulders to fall slightly as she glances toward Andrea sadly. "She won't even talk to us," Lori replies worriedly, as she looks back toward her husband before sparing the rest of us a glance. I understand their worries, but for God's sake let the girl grieve her sister. "She's been there all night. What do we do?"

"Can't just leave Amy like that," Shane says matter-of-fact, as he motions toward the lifeless body next to Andrea. Knowing that he is right, I allow my hand to fall to Millie's head as I begin to run my fingers through her fur once more. "We need to deal with it the same as the others." Looking away from the former officer, I look toward Rick who looks conflicted. I understand that Amy needs to be put down before she completely turns, but even then it'll be traumatic for Andrea. "I'll tell her how it is." Rick concludes before he begins to walk over toward the broken woman.

Turning on my heels to watch the interaction between the two, I continue to pet Millie to try and ease my anxieties. Because if I were in Andrea's position, I would straight go murderous if someone tried to 'tell me how it is' while I grieve someone's death. Just as Rick reaches the blonde woman, she instantly whips around and points her gun at the former sheriff. My free hand instantly flies my gun that is in my holster that I had gotten back, knowing that if needed I would use it. Rick instantly stops in his tracks, as he slowly puts his hands up to almost surrender to the woman.

At the interaction between the two, I feel someone's hand grasp my wrist in panic as they too stare at Rick and Andrea. Confusion washes over me as I look down toward the hand before I trail the arm to see it belongs to Lori. I can see the panicked look inside of her brown eyes as she sees her husband at gunpoint, which causes me to move my hand from my weapon. Placing my free hand on hers that is gripping my wrist, I silently comfort her with that action. Looking back toward Rick, I watch as he finally moves away from Andrea as he walks back toward us.

"Y'all can't be serious," Daryl proclaims bitterly, as he begins to pace due to being stressed. He seems to do that a lot ever since the world had taken a turn for the worse. "Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a ticking time bomb!" Feeling Lori's hand leave my wrist, I allow my hand to fall as I stare between everyone. We are all conflicted on what we need to do and what is the right then to do. Which I find understandable in our situation.

"What do you suggest?" Rick questions, as he stares questionably toward the youngest Dixon brother. Sharing a worried look with Lori, I watch as Daryl then picks up his crossbow that had been nearby. "Take the shot," Daryl urges, as he points in the direction of Amy and Andrea. Feeling nearly sick at his suggestion, I fold my arms over my chest as I narrow my eyes. "Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, Katherine and I can hit a Turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No," I sign aggressively, after shaking my head frantically to get everyone's attention. I can feel their eyes trained to me as I stare directly at Daryl, who stares at me in shock. "For God's sake, let her be. Let her grieve her sister!" Not waiting for anyone else's reply, I tug on Millie's leash as I begin to limp away from them. How can someone just think of doing that to someone else? I know damn well that he wouldn't want someone doing that to me or Merle if we were dead and a 'ticking time bomb'.

><><><><

The sun is high in the sky by the time the afternoon rolls around, as we are still working to clear the campground of the dead bodies. We have a pile of the dead that will be burned, which are the ones that had attacked the camp last night. And we have another pile that will be buried, which are the people that we lost so we can grieve them for a few moments. Of course, it won't be a proper burial with family, a preacher, nor a casket - but it is something to wish them the best in whatever is beyond this life. Feeling the heat of the sun burning my skin, I wipe the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my hand as I continue to sharpen a stick to make an arrow.

After I had gone against Daryl's words, I had limped off to the back of the RV and sat down on a cinder block. I didn't want to be bothered, for I knew that I had probably disappointed my best friend. Glenn had come by moments ago with two bottles of water, one for me and one for Millie as he had placed her dog bowl down. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to - for I knew he was upset by everything that has happened. Since then I had been left alone with my knife, sticks, and my dog, which I liked.

In the corner of my eyes, I notice Millie's ears perk up as she shoots her head in the direction of the others. Mentally sighing in annoyance, I look up to see that a crowd was forming around a man named Jim - who is backing away with a shovel in his hand. Knitting my brows together, I place my knife in my sheath before I put the sharpened stick in my quiver. Tugging Millie's leash and grabbing my water bottle, I begin to limp toward the others as I want to know what is going on now. Once I reach the others, I share a look with Glenn before I look over toward Jim who looks terrified.

The terrified man seems to be muttering that he is okay, despite the fact of holding a shovel as a defense weapon. As he continues to stumble backward, I watch as T-Dog slowly approaches him from behind - before he quickly shoved the shovel from the man's hand and wraps his arms tightly around him. Feeling a set of eyes on me, I tilt my head a bit to see the stormy blue eyes that belong to Daryl before he looks away. My best friend then stomps forward, before he grabs the hem of Jim's shirt as he pulls it up; revealing a deep wound. My eyes grow wide as tears brim my eyes at the sight of the bite that is deep on Jim's stomach.

Forcing myself to look away from the bite, I look toward my best friend as he lets go of the shirt. Daryl is quick to scan the crowd before his eyes land on my small frame, fear pooling in his deep blues as he revealed Jim's wound. I watch as Rick steps forward slowly, before he takes Jim from T-Dog's grasp, before taking the dying man to where I had been moments before. Shifting uncomfortably as I wrap my arms around my body, wishing that I could hide away from the world, I look down toward the ground. What did Jim do to deserve to die such a painful and slow death?

Nobody deserves to die by the hands or in this case, the mouth of a walker especially if it results in a slow painful death. Feeling a pair of strong hands wrap around my shoulders, I allow myself to melt into them once Daryl's scent filled my nose. Resting my head on his chest, I wrap my arms around his torso as I take a deep breath. I just wish people would stop disappearing or dying, but I know that in this world everyone is going to die eventually. Forcing myself from Daryl's arms just as Rick finally approaches us, I allow my arms to fall to my sides as I try to stifle my emotions.

"What do we do about Jim?" Rick questions in defeat, as he shares a glance with everyone that has gathered around. Taking a glance toward Daryl, I can see that he put on his tough act once more as he picks up a pickaxe; here we go. Already wanting to keep Daryl quiet, I shake my head in his direction. "I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it." Daryl replies curtly, as he motions toward Jim and then Amy. Sparing a glance toward Amy's lifeless body, I feel the sudden wave of sadness.

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane asks as he looks toward the youngest Dixon questionably. Feeling a sudden pang in my chest at the mere thought of Daryl being in Jim's spot, I look over toward my best friend worriedly. I know that he can be in Jim's place at any point, just like I can be and that terrified me. "Yeah, and I would thank you while you did it." Daryl answers with a simple shoulder shrug before he looks toward me. The anger in his eyes seems to fade the moment he looks toward me, no doubt seeing the fear in my eyes.

"I hate to say it," Dale says in shock, once he had made sure that he had my attention as well as everyone else's. He looks to be in deep thought as he tries to think of his words carefully. "I never thought I would.... but maybe Daryl's right." My eyes grow wide in shock that someone other than myself is finally agreeing with the youngest Dixon. It had never happened before, but right now it is and it is shocking. "Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick proclaims bitterly, as he shares a look of disgust with Shane toward the two men.

"I'm not suggesting...."

"He's sick. A sick man," Rick states after he had interrupted Dale who had been trying to defend his words. Almost wanting to slap the man for cutting of the wise man, I cross my arms over my chest. "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?" Looking away from the former sheriff, as his words sink deep in my mind - I look over toward my best friend. He looks back at the sheriff with a dumbfounded expression before he rolls his eyes. "The line's pretty clear," Daryl says in annoyance, as he glances from me and back toward Rick. "Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be."

"What if we get him help? I heard the C.D.C was working on a cure." Rick suggests as he looks around at all of us to see if we agreed. The last time I heard anything about the C.D.C was while on the highway when all of this first happened. In all honesty, they were probably the first place to fall before the government did. "I heard that too," Shane mutters, as he shrugs his shoulders at his best friend's words. I don't blame him, for we all heard it for ourselves months ago. "Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"What if the C.D.C is still up and running?" Rick questions, as if he is trying to reach for any possibility that could potentially save Jim's life. Daryl and I share a wearily glance before we look back toward the two best friends. "Man, that is a stretch right there." Shane replies as he places his hands on his hips. He only does that when he tries to assert his words before anyone else's, which I know for a fact. "Why?" Rick tries again, as he looks toward his best friend with challenging eyes. "If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C at all cost, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection...."

"Okay, Rick, you want all those things, all right? I do too, okay," Shane attempts, as he tries to make Rick change his mind about the C.D.C. Apart from me wanting to believe in Shane as he has done alright by me so far, but part of me wonders if Rick's plan is potentially better. "Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning." Rolling my eyes at the place he mentioned, I cross my arms over my chest since this isn't the first time he mentioned this place. He had mentioned it months ago when Daryl, Merle, and I joined. "That's one hundred miles in the opposite direction." Lori states as she mirrors my stance.

"Wasn't the military on the front lines of this thing before they fell?" I question after I clapped my hands together to get everyone's attention. Dale nods in confirmation, as he looks toward Rick to possibly say something. "Yeah, they got overrun," Rick replies gently, as he nods in agreement with my words. Maybe the C.D.C would be a good place to go for shelter and protection, and for Jim's sake. "We've all seen that. The C.D.C is our best choice and Jim's only chance."

"You g looking for aspirin, do what you need to do," Daryl snaps bitterly, as his grip on the pickaxe tightens momentarily. As I look toward my best friend, I can already tell what his next moves are. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of the damn problem!" My best friend then turns on his heels rather quickly and starts rushing toward Jim's fragile form. Already knowing that was going to happen, I mentally roll my eyes before we all start running after Daryl to try and stop him. Just as Daryl lifts the pickaxe to try and end Jim's life, Rick is quick to pull out his python pistol before pointing it at Daryl's head.

At the sight of a gun being pointed at Daryl's head for the second time this week, I am quick to push myself between the two. Glaring up toward Rick, I grab the barrel of his gun and point it directly at my chest - almost challenging me. If he is going to shoot Daryl, then he'll have to shoot me first. Feeling Daryl's back tense behind him as Rick clicks his safety off, I keep my glare on the former sheriff. "We don't kill the living." Rick informs in anger, as his eyes flicker from me and toward my best friend.

"That's funny," I sass in annoyance, as I roll my eyes toward the man who points a weapon at my best friend and me. Rick stares down at me, not shocked that I had put myself in the crossfire to protect Daryl. "Coming from a man who just put a gun to Daryl's head." Noticing that Shane is standing next to me, his eyes moving from my determined face before he looks at Daryl. Adverting my glare from Rick, I turn to look at the former officer who looks shocked by my actions. "We may disagree on some things, not on this. You put it down. Go on." Shane urges as he looks to Daryl with hopeful eyes.

As the cool metal of Rick's done leaves my chest, I tilt my head a bit to see that Daryl is also putting down the pickaxe. The redneck looks down at me after he placed the weapon on the ground, his eyes full of mixed emotions before he storms away. Knowing that he needed time to himself to cool off, I allow myself to breathe out in relief just as Rick shoves past me to retrieve Jim and probably put him in a safe place. Rubbing my forehead tiredly, I feel the pain in my left ankle grow worse as I had run to make sure Daryl was okay causing me to wince. I then walk off toward the front of the RV, so I could sit down and hopefully rest for a few.

><><><><

The look on Andrea Harrison's face is heartbreaking as her sky blue eyes stay glued to Amy's lifeless body. The thirty-year-old looks so broken, sad, and overall terrified by the fact that her little sister met such a horrible fate. Everyone in this camp can all agree that the seventeen-year-old did not deserve to die the way she did, in fact, she didn't deserve to die at all. Amy was a girl full of so many dreams and she was ready to thrive in a world that no longer existed. It had been her and Andrea against the entire world for months now after they agreed to go on a year-long road trip as a graduation gift for Amy.

Knowing that I needed to finally comfort the older woman, I allow myself to stand from the steps of the RV. I had grown close to the Harrison sisters since my time being here, and they always go out of their way to make sure we can communicate. Although Andrea still struggles to understand sign language, she still tries her hardest to understand me. Walking toward the oldest Harrison sister, I sit down on the other side of Amy's body. On the young girl's body, I can see the large chunk of skin and tendons missing from the crook of her neck and shoulder.

There is even a chunk missing from her forearm as well, that resembles the bite that is planted on her neck. She must've choked on her own blood the entire time she had been alive before death greeted her with open arms. Shakily, I allow myself to take the young girl's hand in mine - her skin cold at the touch. Squeezing her hand, I finally allow a tear to escape my hazel eyes as I finally come to terms with Amy Harrison being dead. Looking up from the young girl, I look toward Andrea as she finally looks up from her sister.

"I'm here for you, Andrea." I sign slowly in hopes she'll understand, my hazel eyes locked on her face to see some form of expression. The woman's face softens slightly, as a forced smile appears on her face in an attempt to be nice. "Thank you, Kat. It means a lot," Andrea replies gently, as she looks down toward her little sister with sad eyes. She then grabs my hand that lays on Amy's, before she holds it too. "You know, she saw you as a sister too. Amy was like that in ways."

Before I can attempt to reply back to the woman, I notice that Dale is starting to walk over toward us. His sad blue eyes stare down at me once he reaches us, a sad smile forming on his lips before he looks down toward Amy. I can't even begin to understand how Dale feels, for he had taken these two women in as his own when he had found them so many cities and towns back. He cares for the two sisters more than anyone else in this camp. "I came to pay my respects," Dale states gently, as he finally sits down and looks toward Andrea. "Did I ever mention how I lost my wife?"

"Cancer, wasn't it?" Andrea questions, as she forces herself to look away from her deceased sister and toward the elderly man. I look at the two, as he nods gently toward the grieving woman. Smiling softly at the two, I watch as Dale shifts to stare down at Amy. "Yeah. I dragged her to every doctor, every test," Dale explains, a small smile appearing on his lips as he remembers his late wife. From the love pooling in his blue eyes, I can tell he cared deeply for the woman he married. "And after all the surgeries and the chemos, she was ready. She accepted it, you know? But I never could. And I spent the last few years so angry. I felt so cheated. Since she passed, you three girls were the first people.... that I cared anything for."

A smile forms on my lips at the mention of Dale actually caring for not only Andrea and Amy but for me too. Noticing movement next to the elderly man, I look toward Andrea as she pulls something that is wrapped up from her pocket. She then uncovers it to reveal a mermaid necklace, causing my smile to falter. "This is her birthday?" Dale questions in shock, causing my heart to shatter even more. Just knowing that the young woman had died on her eighteenth birthday destroys me.

"Her birthday was like.... like a week-long affair. But I somehow always missed it," Andrea informs gently, as her eyes stay glued to the mermaid necklace that is in her hands. Feeling my heart begin to feel as if it's sinking, I continue to stare at the girl who feels so much guilt. "I was away at college or too busy for kid's parties. She'd call all excited. I always said I'd make it home and I really always meant it, but I never made it past that phone call." A tear slides down my cheek at the sight of Andrea pushing the wrapper aside, as she readies herself to give Amy her birthday present. Not knowing what to do or how to react, I look over toward Dale as he smiles softly. "I know things are hard enough for you without adding guilt into the mix, huh?" He wonders as he shares a look with me.

Andrea doesn't say anything as she unclamps the necklaces hooks before she leans over her sister's lifeless body. Watching as she wraps the necklace around Amy's neck, I can feel myself wanting to break down at the sight. Once the necklace is clamped and stationed right on the young girl's neck, I share a reassuring look with Andrea. Positioning myself to where I am on my knees, I lean down as I plant a soft and gentle kiss on Amy's forehand. As I pull away from the lifeless woman, I watch as a tear of mine falls onto Amy's cheek.

Happy Birthday, Amy Harrison.

May you rest in paradise.

Pushing myself off of the ground, I tug on Millie's leash causing her to stand on her feet as she shakes the dirt from her fur. Tapping my leg so she'll follow, I begin to walk away from Andrea, Dale, and Amy's body. Beginning to search for Daryl as I limped away from the RV, I notice that he is by the two piles of dead bodies. They probably have him putting a pickaxe through the skulls of those who had died during the ax. I am not sure why they have allowed the man to still carry the pickaxe, especially after he threatened to kill Jim and put down Amy before she turned.

Wiping the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my hand, I continue to walk toward my best friend. His entire body is covered in dirt, blood, and sweat from working in the sun all day - but that is honestly nothing new. Watching as his arm shows every ounce of muscle the man has each time he lifts the pickaxe, I watch as he brings it down on Heather's head. Scrunching my face up in disgust at the sight of the pickaxe going through the base of her skull, he is quick to pull it out as he goes to the next person. As I walk up to him, I look down at the next person to see that it is Ed Peletier; Carol's abusive husband and Sophia's father.

After I had looked up from the seemingly beaten and battered body of Ed, I noticed that Carol had walked over once she noticed Daryl reached her husband's body. The woman looks rather relieved that her husband is no longer here to torment her and Sophia, which I don't blame her. I would be relieved too, in fact, I would be if it were my father right in that exact spot. Carol then motions for Daryl to give her the pickaxe, causing him to look at her with worried eyes. He, of all people, understood that she needed to do this in order to heal from his torment.

"I'll do it. He's my husband." Carol says gently, as she looks toward my best friend with pleading eyes. She needed to do this in order to feel okay again, in order to be the best person she can be. Tears brim the older woman's eyes as Daryl slowly hands her the pickaxe, causing it to weigh her down for a moment. She gulps noticeably before she lifts it over her head, as the tears finally begin to fall. Suddenly Carol Peletier brings the pickaxe down onto her husband's head, repeatedly as she takes out her pent-up anger.

The woman continues to let out the anger she feels toward the abusive man, not caring if his blood splatters on her body. Tears roll down her face freely as the pickaxe begins to take a toll on her body, as she begins to break completely. Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I look away from the breaking woman and toward Daryl who had been staring at me. He looks at me with soft eyes, before he looks toward Carol and steps forward. Carol then stops bashing her husband's head in once it is nothing but flesh and brain matter before she hands Daryl the pickaxe.

Once the broken woman forced herself to look up, as she pats her face down with the back of her hands; she looks behind me. Her entire body freezes, just as Sophia rushes toward her with tears rolling down her face. I look toward Daryl as he motions for me to look behind me, causing me to turn on my heels. Once I turn around to look at what everyone else was seeing, I notice that Andrea had begun to cry again as she looks down at Amy's body. My eyes widen as tears fill them at the sight of Amy's eyes opening, as her hands begin to paw at the air.

Time seems to come to a stop as the shell of Amy's body reaches out for the older woman, as her fingers finally begin to trail Andrea's pale face. A tear slides down my face as I watch the walker that took over the young girl's body places her hand on the back of Andrea's head, the tiny fingers digging into the hair before grabbing it. I watched painfully as the walker tries to bring Andrea closer, as it tries to take a bite of the dirt-covered skin. Andrea fumbles with the gun in her trembling fingers, as she seems to whisper words to the corpse of Amy. She then lines the barrel of the gun to Amy's head, as she seemingly clicks the safety off - before pulling the trigger.

My knees seem to buckle as I watch Amy's head throwback due to the gunshot, as the bullet barrels through her skull. Feeling myself fall to the ground as I watch Amy's lifeless body falls into the grasp of Andrea's, I couldn't help but let the tears fall. Digging my hands into the dirt that lays beneath me, I allow myself to cry as a vibration cuts through my throat painfully. Millie is quick to trot over to me as she begins to nudge her head against my arms, in an attempt to get me to stop digging my fingers into the dirt. Allowing my hands to find Millie's fur as she begins to lick them, I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around me - causing me to melt into their grasp.

Rest in paradise, Amy Harrison.

I'm so sorry that the world wasn't kind to

you.

><><><><

After we held the funeral for those that passed on a hill, I had found myself sitting on Merle's sleeping bag that is inside the tent I share with Daryl. It feels as if my heart had been ripped from my chest after experiencing all the loss in just twenty-four hours. Sniffling slightly due to my nose being clogged from crying, I fumble with my boots before I toss them to the side - finally allowing my feet to rest completely. Finally allowing myself to rest for the first time in twenty-four hours, I lay flat on Merle's sleeping bag as Millie lays next to me; resting her head on my stomach. Running my fingers through the fur on her head, I look down at her a smile softly.

At least I have her.

The last twenty-four hours had been one of the things I've never wanted to experience, but I had been forced through it. I have experienced loss before, a loss that came from two people that had been two of the most important people in my life - but never had I ever thought I would have to experience the loss of Merle Dixon. Nobody saw the good in the redneck that his brother and I saw in him, or even his mother saw in him so long ago. Nobody got to see the love and care he held for his baby brother or me, nobody got to see the side of him that would have done anything to keep his family safe. They didn't see the Merle Dixon that carried Daryl and me through the grieving process of losing my mother and theirs.

Yes, Merle Dixon had been an asshole to everyone that wasn't Daryl or myself - but he hated the entire world. He hated anyone that resembled William and Samuel, and he would do anything to keep those types of people away from Daryl and me. Feeling a tear slide down my cheek, I quickly wipe it away just as the flap of the tent opens. Daryl is quick to walk through as he places his crossbow down, as he begins to unbutton his shirt to cool down. He then sits down on his own sleeping bag, as he rubs his face tiredly.

"They're gonna lead the others to the C.D.C the first thing tomorrow morning." Daryl informs slowly after he had made sure he had my attention. He looks rather conflicted on if he actually wants to tag along with him, as he shrugs off his shirt. Attempting to not look at the wonders of his body, I look up toward his stormy blue eyes. "Are we going to tag along?" I question, as I force myself to sit back up causing me to wince a bit. My left ankle is throbbing after all the walking I had done today, and my right cheek hurts too due to the bruise from getting punched in Atlanta.

"Do you want to go?" He asks, dismissing the very question I had asked. Daryl looks down at me worried once he realized I had winced, but made no action to look me over. He knows about the bruise on my cheek and my mildly sprung ankle. "I think we should," I reply truthfully, as I lay back down a bit as I feel myself growing tired. He stares at me in confusion, causing me to continue. "It would be better than roaming the state by ourselves. Even if we don't want to admit it, we need these people. Just like they need us."

____Word Count: 2,641

Welcome back to The Deaf One, everyone! This chapter is a lot to handle and is definitely an emotional one, as we had to experience Katherine's emotions with those who passed during the walker attack. I had fun writing it, but I definitely cried at some parts where we walked about Amy. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave comments so I can interact with you all (you don't have to if you don't want to)!

What are your thoughts on this chapter?[ This chapter is definitely a whirlwind of emotions from the deaths and how Katherine had reacted to it. Personally, I think this is my best chapter yet, but I will leave that up to you to let me know! ]

What are your thoughts on Katherine's interaction with everyone in this chapter?[ My opinion is biased as I had written this chapter, so I will leave it to you guys to tell me your opinions! ]

How did you react to Katherine pointing Rick's gun at herself to protect Daryl?[ Honestly, this is just the beginning of what's to come between Katherine and Daryl! But this is also the beginning of Katherine and Rick's friendship, despite the fact he kept the gun pointed at her. ]

How has your guys' week been?[ I would love to hear about how your weeks have been (whether it was good or bad)! Feel free to boast about your feel or anything new you've got! ]

Remember to be safe and to make good choices! Continue to wear your mask, wash your hands, and to social distance!

Lots of Love,Crimson Rose