Oh. My. God. Here it is. The epic-and long-conclusion to this story. It took a long time to write this, but every second was worth it. I was tearing up at the end and those of you who haven't seen the mid-season finale need to do so before you read this because there are MAJOR spoilers for the episode. I just want to say that it's been so fun and wonderful writing about The Walking Dead. I don't regret a single second. And without you guys reviewing and favoriting, I wouldn't have wanted to continue on. So thank you all for that! Now, as I've mentioned before, I AM NOT DONE WRITING! I'll be making little one-shots between Daryl and Marlie and once the show picks back up in February, I will begin again! So fear not, everyone. This is not the end!

Now, go forth, read, review, cry. I know I did. :P

DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Walking Dead.

Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter Twelve: Be Realistic, Not Optimistic

Blood. So much blood. I've never realized how much a human body could hold until now, now that the entirety of my mother's contents is spilled all over the dash, the steering wheel, the driver's seat…The face of the creature digging deep into her left side.

It's snarling and feasting while I'm huddled in a ball in the backseat behind Jack, trembling with wide eyes, crying quietly as to not call attention to myself. The basic, unconscious human instinct to survive, even though I'm better off dead now.

Jack's not breathing. Not breathing. I already checked for a pulse, for warm breath. There's nothing.

My phone is in my hands now and I'm shakily trying to dial the authorities, but my fingers won't work. They stumble and slip all over the keypad. I'm crying louder now, more frantically.

Near the front seat, the monster with pallid, rotting flesh looks up at me. Straight into my eyes. He growls ferociously.

Jack turns around then. I know it's impossible because I checked for signs of life and there were none whatsoever. But he's staring at me, blood pulsing from the gash in his head. "Run," he rasps, "Run."

The creature looses interest in my mother and springs at me.

But my dented door is jammed and I scream.

TWDTWDTWD

A voice erupted loudly within the tent, scaring Marlie until she realized it was her own voice sounding. She sucked in a deep breath and gasped, sweat dribbling down her forehead and onto her nose. There were two hands shaking her shoulders then and she looked up to find Daryl staring at her worriedly.

Several pairs of footsteps hurried over to the tent, alerting Marlie to the sudden company.

Rick was quick to unzip the tent and peek inside, his knife at the ready. "Is everything okay?"

Marlie breathed heavily for a moment longer before swallowing hard. She nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Ya sure?" came Shane's voice.

"Yes, I'm sure. Bad dream." Marlie half smiled at Rick to reassure him.

With a sigh, Rick gave in and said, "Alright. Just makin' sure." He glanced over at a shirtless Daryl. "Breakfast is ready, so come out and eat." The officer smiled and walked away, Lori tucked under his arm.

Everyone else disappeared, as well.

Marlie inhaled deeply, trying to calm her frantically beating heart. She could feel her shoulders shaking beneath Daryl's comforting hand, and was not completely surprised when he asked,

"Are you sure you're alright?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes at the recollection of the nightmare. "I haven't had a dream like that in a long time," Marlie said quietly, but falling silent afterwards. She wasn't in the mood to go through the story of her family's death again.

Kissing her forehead kindly, Daryl suggested food, of which Marlie wanted nothing to do with.

Her appetite had been squished and the thought alone of eating caused her stomach to do flips. But she felt better once she stepped outside. The sun was barely over the trees and cast orange shadows along the fields and throughout the camp. It was heating up quickly, but right then, it was the perfect temperature. Not hot enough to sweat; not cold enough to freeze.

"Breakfast is ready," announced Carol quietly to the pair as they wandered over to the fire where scrambled eggs were sizzling on a black pan.

Marlie took one look and went green as she thought back on her dream. Before anyone could ask her what the problem was, she ran off behind the RV and vomited. Daryl was at her side in an instant, keeping her dangling curls out of the path of bile and rubbing little circles on her back. There were tears in her eyes when she was finished, but the young woman batted them away before they could fall.

There was a concerned expression on the hunter's face when she looked up at him. It would have been wrong to demand Marlie what her dream was about, but at the same time, maybe he could help. Maybe she'd feel better if she just—

"I dreamt of the night that my mom and brother died," she stated simply, leaning against the RV with closed eyes.

Daryl frowned deeply. "I'm sorry," he whispered beside her, pressing his muscular shoulder into hers.

There were several moments of silence that passed between them and Marlie was glad that nobody tried to interrupt the quiet by asking if everything was okay…again. Her nerves were beginning to relax as the sun rested comfortably over her cheekbones. But a smell crossed Marlie's nose and she lifted her head, inhaling deeply.

The hunter looked over at her. "You sure do that a lot, you know," he commented, curiously sniffing the air.

"After the accident, I could smell things a lot better. Something to do with hitting your head hard will sometimes increase people's senses."

He snorted lightly. "So you got a super sniffer."

Marlie agreed with a nod, her nose still pointing upward.

"What is it?"

She grimaced and her eyes widened. Instinctively, Marlie reached for her blade and scanned the area hastily.

Daryl's brows wrinkled. "What? Should I be concerned?"

"I think so," Marlie stated slowly. "Something smells like decay." She looked over at Daryl and added, "Like walkers. I thought I smelled them a couple days ago, too, but I wasn't sure."

"How sure are you now?"

Marlie shook her head and shrugged. "It could be anything. Maybe I'm imagining it," but she knew she wasn't. Walkers had a particularly ugly stench that was hard to mistake.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably at the thought and suddenly wished he'd grabbed his crossbow from the tent. "We should let the others know."

"No, it'll only freak them out. Lets just go have breakfast and we'll figure things out from there."

Daryl sighed. Damn this introverted woman. He shrugged and said, "Alright, but if you keep smelling 'em…"

"I know, I know. It's probably not anything to worry about, though." And with that, she let Daryl lead her back to the group.

They sat down beside a tent and Daryl asked if she had regained her appetite yet.

"A bite of eggs won't hurt," she stated and smiled when Daryl insisted on getting food for the both of them, even though Marlie was perfectly capable of doing things herself. When she saw Rick glance over at her, she told him, "I'm okay. Seriously," and began nibbling casually and slowly into her plate of food. She expected her stomach to reject the new contents, but instead, it grumbled and gladly accepted it.

Sitting a couple of yards away, Andrea was kneeled in the dirt, sharpening her blade. She looked over at Marlie, whose blue eyes met hers a moment later. "You wanna use this when I'm finished? It's workin' really well for mine," she said, indicating the grated sharpener in her hand.

With a small, friendly smile, Marlie nodded quickly. "That would be great. Thanks." She felt Daryl nudge her smoothly and she grinned over at him.

Glenn's voice drew Marlie's attention away from the hunter, however. "Um, guys?" he said, hesitation and nervousness lacing his words. "The barn's full of walkers."

The bite of eggs that had just gone into Marlie's mouth went flying back out at that moment. She sputtered and looked over at Glenn with wide eyes, her expression matching everyone else's. She turned to Daryl and frowned. God, how she hated being right.

Shane led the group to the barn hastily, wasting no time on the subject.

Marlie's heart raced as the older man peeked between two planks of wood on the barn door, her imagination, like always, providing frightening images of what was hidden within the structure.

"You cannot tell me you're alright with this," growled Shane as he stalked back to Rick.

"I'm not," replied the other officer, "but we're guests here. This isn't our land."

Lori, with her arms crossed unhappily, said, "We can't just sweep this under the rug."

"It ain't right," stated T-Dog, shaking his head at the barn full of undead monsters.

Shane was pacing angrily around the group, agitation evident in every step. "We either gotta go in there and make things right or we just gotta go now. We've been talkin' about Fort Bennin' for a long time and—"

"We can't leave."

"Why, Rick? Why?"

"Because my daughter's still out there." Carol looked at Shane with wrinkled brows and a solemn expression. Even as the words flowed gently from her mouth, there was a nearly invisible hint of hopelessness.

Marlie caught it. Just barely, but she heard it.

Shane sighed. "I think it's time that we start to consider the other possibilities."

"Shane!" exclaimed Rick, silencing the other man.

"We're not leaving Sophia behind," stated Marlie sternly. "We can't." Her arms folded over her breasts and she squinted against the bright sunlight coming through from the east. There were curious, hungry walkers strutting about behind the barn door and she eyed them anxiously before glaring back at Shane.

"We're so close to finding this little girl. I just found the damn doll a few days ago!" retorted Daryl. It was the first real evidence of Sophia and he'd be damned if it was just going to be thrown out by some buzz-cut, argumentative little cop.

"You found a doll, Daryl. That's it; a doll," Shane spat.

For a moment, Daryl just eyed the man, hardly believing what he was hearing. But the sudden urge to hit the asshole overcame him and she hurried forward, blurting, "You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about!" Had Rick not intervened, fists would have surely gone flying.

"Hey!" the officer yelled, stepping between Shane and the hunter. "Alright, alright, enough."

Shane scoffed. "I'm just sayin' what needs to be said here!"

In the background of the verbal dispute taking place stood Marlie. Her eyes were back on the barn. The smell of death was stronger than ever and it played hell with the eggs in her stomach. She wasn't concerned about Daryl fighting with Shane just then; they could handle themselves. She was more focused on the fact that, sooner or later, the group would come to a decision about Sophia. Marlie prayed that the little girl was still out there somewhere, safe and okay, and that they'd find her soon, because the girl was running out of time.

Everybody knew that.

Meanwhile, Shane and Rick continued to argue like a couple of high schoolers. "And let me tell you something else, man!," the former spat out over Rick's shoulder, directly at Daryl. "If she was really out there and she saw you comin', with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!"

Marlie lost her patience at the comment. She stepped towards Shane and growled, "Hey! At least he's trying and not sitting on his ass all day, shooting guns and jerking off!" Despite the surprised and pissed-off expression now plastered on Shane's face, Marlie wasn't finished yet. "We risked our lives out there for her!" she said, pointing towards the woods behind her. "And we'd gladly do it again. Meanwhile, you're bitching about Fort Benning when there are more important things to be dealing with!"

"You bitch!" spluttered Shane, hurrying towards the young woman with clenched fists.

Daryl saw the other man's intentions and threw his own fist at him before Shane could harm Marlie. "Don't you touch her!" he snarled fiercely as the officer dropped.

He was back up in an instant with a killing look in his eyes. He bounded towards Daryl, but was blocked by Rick who was shouting angrily at the two men.

Meanwhile, Marlie joined the scuffle, fully prepared to throw her weight around to protect Daryl if need be. She was pushed aside by Andrea, however, but instead of getting angry with the blonde for putting hands on her, Marlie huffed and stepped back.

Daryl did the same a moment later, followed by Shane after Lori shoved him back.

"Don't touch me," he stated impatiently at the woman, pointing a finger at her as he stalked away.

"Now just let me talk to Hershel," Rick called out at his partner. "Let me figure it out."

Shane spun around and rushed Rick then, shouting, "What are you gonna figure out?"

Again, Lori had her husband's back and kept Shane at bay.

"If we're gonna clear this barn," Rick said angrily, "then have to talk Hershel into it. This is his land!"

Marlie breathed out heavily, still out of breath from the scuffle. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sniffed, eyeing the barn again. She found her place beside Daryl and said, "Thanks."

He knew the reason behind her kind words, so he said nothing. Instead, he nodded folded his arms, still fuming.

Dale spoke up and drew everyone's attention away from each other and onto him. "Hershel believes they're still people. Sick people. His wife, his...his step-son."

"You knew?" Marlie asked quietly, her head cocked to one side curiously.

He nodded over at her before glancing back at Rick. "Yesterday," Dale confirmed. "I talked to Hershel."

"And you waited 'til now?" asked Shane.

"I thought we could make it one more night and we did."

"I was waiting until this morning to say something but Glenn wanted to be the one," added Dale.

"This is crazy," snarled Shane abusively. "If Hershel still thinks they're people, then no! We gotta kill 'em!"

Marlie gulped when the barn doors began to move. On the other side, walkers were growling and shaking the doors hungrily. She instinctively took a step back and, without even realizing it, grabbed Daryl's hand and dragged him back with her.

TWDTWDTWD

The next couple of hours were spent in uncomfortable silence. No one had anything to say, not now there were walkers in the barn, and everyone found something to occupy their time and keep their wandering minds busy.

Marlie sat beside a tree, cool beneath its shade, and sharpened her knife on the grate that Andrea let her borrow. When she was finished, she eyed it casually before stabbing into the ground beside her.

All the while, Carl observed.

Daryl appeared from the tent a short time later, appearing to be on a mission.

"Where ya going?" Marlie asked from her seat on the grass.

"To feed the horses."

The young woman frowned and got to her feet. "Those hay bales way eighty pounds. I'm not sure that's the smartest thing to be lifting right now."

He glared at her before lowering his head. "I can't just sit around, Marlie."

She understood that since she, herself, was feeling relatively bored and agitated. "Then I'll come with you."

Daryl shook his head. "Carl's been watchin' you sharpen that knife since the moment you sat down. You were teachin' him to throw, weren't ya? Back at the old camp?"

Marlie glanced over the hunter's shoulder and saw the young boy watching her casually beside his mother, Lori. "Yeah, but you—"

"I'll be fine," finished Daryl. His face was stern, but it quickly melted into a small, reassuring smile. "If I need your help, I'll come get you. Deal?"

Ah, another deal, Marlie mused, grinning childishly. "Fine. Deal. Just don't go near the other barn."

"Don't have to tell me twice," he stated.

"And say hi to the cat for me."

Daryl snorted and nodded. He shuffled the curls on Marlie's head playfully before walking away, leaving the young woman to the task of resuming her teachings with Carl.

It was easy to get Lori's permission, since she'd since yes the first time. Her only words of caution were to be sure that Carl didn't overdo it and strain himself. He was still recovering, after all.

Marlie understood and led the boy out into a clearing, clutching the blade of her knife in her dominant left hand and an empty pop can in her right. "Alright," she began. "Do you remember how I said to hold it?"

"Um, three fingers go on one side and your thumb goes on the other, right?"

With eyes full of surprise, Marlie nodded. She honestly hadn't expected the boy to remember. "Good job," she applauded. "And when you throw it, you flick your wrist and just let go." Placing the empty aluminum can on the ground, Marlie took several steps back, bringing Carl along with her, and tossed her blade. It sliced into the can perfectly and toppled it over.

"Wow, that's cool," Carl said with a big grin, adjusting his dad's deputy hat.

Marlie smirked. "Your turn," she said, handing over the blade to the boy, handle first. "Remember, flick your wrist and release."

"How do I aim?"

"Well, it's a little difficult, to be honest. It took me months before I could even hit a target."

Carl looked up at Marlie. "Really?"

"Yep, but practice makes perfect. The best way to aim is to line the knife up with the can. Let me show you." She stepped around the boy and grabbed his knife-holding hand. Carefully, Marlie adjusted it until it was pointing directly at the can.

"It doesn't feel right," stated Carl.

"Well, when you throw, you aren't actually pointing the knife at the can. Pointing just aligns it better so you're chances of actually hitting the target go up." She adjusted Carl's fingers slightly until their grip was satisfactory before stepping back. "Now, you don't have to pull the knife over your shoulders like in the movies. The only time you really have to do that is when you're trying to hit something farther away. For shorter distances, like the can, you only have to bend your arm a little, like this." Marlie made an example with her own arm, bending it at the elbow by just ninety degrees. When Carl had copied her, she commanded, "Now flick."

Obediently, the boy's wrist flicked and the knife flew from his hands. He held his breath excitedly, but sighed when the blade embedded itself into the ground many inches from the can.

Marlie smiled. "Don't be discouraged," she comforted. "I was terrible my first time. No, worse than terrible! I missed the tree and broke my neighbor's kitchen window."

Carl burst into giggles.

Recalling the event, Marlie shook her head with a smirk. "Luckily, no one was in there cooking or cleaning the dishes." She made a face and giggled, as well. "Shall we try again?"

"Yes," agreed Carl and was handed back the knife.

For over an hour, Marlie worked with Carl until the glorious moment came when the knife pierced the can. They both cheered wildly, high-fiving each other before Carl ran to retrieve his mother.

Lori watched with content pride as her little boy struck the cat again and again and again. "Thank you," she said quietly to Marlie while Carl retrieved the knife, "For keeping his mind busy. It was very kind."

Marlie shrugged with a pleasant grin. "It's nothing. He enjoys it and that's enough for me."

With a friendly pat on Marlie's shoulder, Lori smiled at her son and urged him to keep practicing. She wandered back to camp then to work on a few cleaning tasks.

"Okay," Marlie began once she was gone. "Now why don't you take a step back and try?"

Carl took two steps back and confidently threw the knife. It missed, but just barely.

"I'll give you a few pointers to help you out. One: never hold your breath. Breathe nice and deep and when you throw, exhale."

Nodding, the boy awaited more.

"Two: try putting your left foot forward a little and right foot back." She led by example and smiled widely when Carl obeyed and hit the can. "That's great! That's exactly how to do it. I think you might be better than me." Marlie faked a frown and lowered her head in faux sulk.

Carl laughed. "You're way better than me! I don't think I'll ever be as good as you."

"I don't know, Little Man, you're already on fire. A few more days and you might even beat me."

"Yeah right!"

Marlie snorted and glanced over at the horse stables. She didn't have a visual on Daryl, but she did see Carol wander into the barn.

Following her gaze, Carl tilted his head. "Are you and Daryl together now?"

The young woman blinked and looked down at the boy curiously.

"Mom says you are."

Marlie perked a brow and eyed Lori behind her. "She did, did she?"

"Yeah, and I believe her." He had Marlie's full attention.

"Is that okay with you?" she asked with a silly grin on her face.

Carl nodded. "You two look good together."

Marlie cocked her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from a twelve-year-old! Sure, it had become obvious that she and Daryl were a bit of an item now, but hearing it from Carl put the giddy schoolgirl feeling back into her stomach. She snorted and shook her head. "Well then I guess it must be true. I'm glad you think we look…good together."

Maturely, Carl nodded again and prepared to throw the knife.

"Let me know when you start getting tired, okay?"

TWDTWDTWD

In the barn, Daryl carried a heavy saddle in his arms, throwing it painfully onto a stand to clean and prepare it. He huffed at the weight and leaned against the stand for support, his wounded side pulsing uncomfortably.

"You can't," said a voice suddenly. Carol.

Daryl sniffed. "I'm fine," he stated simply, grabbing a brown leather horse bridle off of one of the stalls.

"Hershel says you should rest," continued Carol, worry in her tone as she quickly approached the hunter.

"I don't care." And he really didn't. Finding Sophia was his number priority and he hoped that Marlie hadn't seen the older woman enter the barn, because then she might get curious and want to see where the party was at. Stubborn and curious Marlie, he mused.

Carol walked up beside the man and said quietly, "Well I do. Rick's goin' out later to follow the trail."

Daryl opened up a stable and began maneuvering the bridle onto its snout. He was careful to not pick Nelly or Abacus as his new steed because he'd be damned if he got stranded again. "Yeah," he scoffed. "But I'm not gonna sit around and do nothin'."

"And I'm guessing Marlie doesn't know about this? I know she wouldn't let you go."

"Which is exactly why I haven't told her. I ain't gonna let her put herself in that kind of danger again."

Carol stood back, arms crossed, a calm and patient expression on his face. "You know you're gonna go and get yourself hurt even worse." When the man failed to acknowledge her, Carol continued. "We don't know if we're ever gonna find her, Daryl."

That caught his attention. He stopped bridling the large animal before him and faced the older woman with a confused, disbelieving appearance.

There were tears in her eyes as she added in a barely-audible voice, "I don't." It killed her inside to say those words to someone who had, so far, stopped at nothing to find her missing Sophia. The look he wore for Carol then sent her heart into her gut.

He took a step towards her and asked, "What?"

Carol shifted under Daryl's stiff gaze, but finally admitted, "Can't lose you, too."

The words were confusing for Daryl. The woman might have been looking out for him and his safety, but she had also, as much as he had gathered, grown hopeless. He flinched and shook his head. In a fury of anger, Daryl threw the saddle off the stand violently, but the strain sent lightning bolts of searing pain into his side. He clutched it and stumbled.

"Are you alright?" asked a worried Carol, not sure if she should assist him or keep her distance from the irritated southerner. When she tried to do the former, he waved her off harshly and said,

"Leave me be!" Straightening himself, he left the barn and growled, "Stupid bitch."

It left Carol speechless and regretful for even talking to Daryl in the first place. At least he wasn't riding off on horseback now.

TWDTWDTWD

Marlie called it day a short time later, much to Carl's disappointment. "Sorry, Little Man," she apologized, grabbing the soda can and sheathing her blade. "You have to keep your strength up for next time."

"Next time?" he asked excitedly.

"Yep. This time tomorrow, as long as your mom and dad have no objections."

Apparently, that was Carl's queue to hurry off to ask Lori for permission. Marlie smirked at him and slowly followed behind. She was caught off guard by Rick a few moments later.

"Hey, Marlie," he called after her.

"Rick," she said, nodding. "I've been teaching Carl how to throw a knife."

The officer smiled. "Yeah, I noticed. How's he doin'?"

"He's good. I mean, really good. Better than me when I first learned how to do it."

Rick smirked. "Thank you for givin' him something to take his mind off of what happened earlier."

"It was beneficial for both of us."

"Well I still appreciate it." He glanced around curiously before asking, "Where's Daryl?"

Marlie rolled her eyes at the mention of the stubborn hunter. "Feeding the horses. I told him to let me help, but he insisted on me staying with Carl."

Rick's brows furrowed. "I'm pretty sure Hershel already took care of them, earlier today."

"What?" asked the young woman, suddenly very unhappy. "Then what the hell is he…?" Marlie tapered off at the sudden realization of something. "Gotta go!" she announced, booking it towards the barn and away from a confused Rick. She hadn't run that fast in days and the sprinting pulled painfully at her calf muscles. But sore muscles would be the least of her worries if Daryl had gone off and done what she thought he'd done.

When she arrived at the barn, Daryl was nowhere in sight. And neither was Carol. Frantically, Marlie checked all the stalls to be sure their occupants were still there and, much to Marlie's relief, everyone was. There was, however, a partially bridled steed and a toppled saddle stand. But where was Daryl and how had she managed to miss him leave the barn?

TWDTWDTWD

"See it?" Daryl asked. His mood had improved slightly during his trek to show Carol a little something to boost her spirits.

"See what?" she wondered quietly as she walked beside the small stream that cut into a small part of Hershel's property.

Daryl led her a short ways ahead before pointing at something beside the creek. He stopped and stared at his findings and waited for Carol to catch up and see it for herself. "We'll find her," he stated quietly.

Carol blinked back the tears that suddenly filled her vision at the sight of a particularly beautiful white flower. She immediately recognized it as the kind that Daryl had found for her during one his and Marlie's excursions to find Sophia.

With hesitation, the hunter eyed Carol, the corners of his mouth turning upward ever so slightly. When her blue eyes met his, he said, "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. For what I said."

Carol smiled softly. "You wanted to look for her." She paused before continuing. "Why? This whole time I've wanted to ask you."

His answer came without delay, his voice stern and promising. "'Cuz I think she's still out there."

It was simple, but Daryl's words left a deep impact on Carol's heart. They were the sparks needed to get the flame burning for Sophia again. Reaching out, Carol gently rubbed one white petal of the Cherokee rose, noting how beautiful it really was. With renewed hope, she said, "We'll find her." Turning to Daryl, Carol added, "I see it." She smiled thankfully at the man, glad when he returned the gesture.

TWDTWDTWD

"Have you guys seen Daryl?" Marlie asked Glenn and Maggie who were sitting on Hershel's front porch. "I've been looking all over for him."

"Wasn't he in the barn?" asked Carl from his seat on the porch.

"I checked. He's gone."

Glenn pointed behind her and Marlie frowned when she saw what she was searching for. Granted, she was glad that Daryl wasn't out in the middle of woods, but he'd lied to her. That wasn't going to fly. "Where you've been?" she asked unhappily, pulling up beside him and Carol.

"He was showing me something," informed Carol kindly.

"You said you were going to feed the horses. You were gonna go look for Sophia, alone, weren't you?"

Daryl shook his head. "Can we discuss this later?" he asked.

"Fine," Marlie resigned.

Andrea and T-Dog appeared a minute later, wondering where everyone else went.

"Last time I saw Rick, he was wondering off with Hershel," informed Marlie. "I haven't seen Shane, though."

Andrea sighed impatiently. "We were supposed to go look for Sophia two hours ago."

"Yeah you were. What the hell?" asked Daryl impatiently. No one had an answer for him, though. "Damn it! Isn't anybody takin' this seriously? We got us a damn trail."

Rolling her eyes at the ground, Marlie kicked around some dusty dirt at her feet. She knew the man was not fit to go off running around and she knew that he was aware of that fact as well. And yet, he was ready to go galloping in the forest, despite his condition. Much to Marlie's surprise, she was proud of Daryl. Even more to her surprise, she wasn't angry. He hadn't told her that he was going off because he hadn't wanted her to get hurt again. It was an easy enough conclusion to make.

"Ah, here we go," Daryl announced as he noticed Shane approaching with the bag of guns in his hand. Dale's guns.

"Where's Dale?" Marlie called out to the officer, but he ignored her.

Daryl's brows wrinkled at the guns and asked, "What's all this?"

"You with me?" Shane asked coldly, offering a shotgun to the man.

"Hell yeah," answered Daryl, taking the weapon eagerly.

Marlie frowned in his direction. "Daryl, you know what Hershel said about the guns."

"Yeah, and there's a little girl lost out there somewhere with walkers wanderin' around. I think that's reason enough to have guns."

"Shane's crazy," she growled lowly. "Do not follow him."

Daryl shook his head. "Hey, don't worry so much about me. I'll be fine."

Marlie hated this. She hated arguing and she hated Shane. It was a strong word to use against somebody, but it fit pretty well with the rogue officer. He was always high-strung and spouting off horrible ideas that he believed were best for the group and Marlie hated him.

"Time to grow up," announced Shane. He looked over at Andrea. "You got yours?" he asked, meaning a gun.

"Yeah," she replied. "Where's Dale?"

"He's on his way," Shane answered, handing off a weapon to T-Dog, who took it hesitantly and said,

"I thought we couldn't carry."

"We can't," stated Marlie, pulling up beside Shane.

"We can if we have to."

Marlie scoffed. "That's wrong! You aren't in charge."

"Marlie," began Daryl quietly, reaching his free hand out to her touch her shoulder.

She shrugged it off, ignoring him. "Shane, you're not in charge! Rick should decide what to do—"

He spun around and pointed a stiff finger at Marlie threateningly. "Rick can't decide right from wrong, cuz if he could, he'd have let us kill those barn walkers the moment we heard about 'em." Taking a step closer to her, Shane added, "You better stay out of my way, Marlie."

"Hey! Leave her outta this," asserted Daryl, finding his place beside Marlie.

She snorted and shook her head. "I don't need your help, Daryl," she said lowly.

"Hey, look," Shane spoke up again, addressing everyone else. "It was one thing standin' around pickin' daisies when we thought this place was suppose to be safe, but now we know it ain't. How 'bout you, man?" he asked, handing out a shotgun to Glenn. "You gonna protect yours?"

With reluctance, the young man snatched the weapon.

"Can you shoot?" the officer asked Maggie.

"Can you stop?"

Shane shook his head and turned away.

"If you do this, if you hand out all these guns, Hershel will make you all leave tonight."

"You have to stay, Shane." Carl's voice sounded from the porch beside Patricia and a moment later, his mother appeared from the house, the look of unhappiness evident in her face.

"What is goin' on? Where are you goin'?"

"We ain't goin' anywhere, okay?" announced Shane. "Now look, Hershel is just gonna have to understand. He's gonna have to." He turned to Carl then. "Now you wanna find Sophia, don't you? I want you to take this. I want you to do whatever it takes to keep your mother safe, okay? Take it."

"Shane, stop it," said Marlie. "Leave him alone."

"Marlie," was all he said to silence the young woman.

She looked up at Daryl with a questioning glare. "You're just gonna stand there and do whatever he says?" There was venom in her words.

Daryl frowned, but remained quiet.

Shane turned back to Carl and commanded, "Take the gun. You know how to use it, so just take it."

Lori was between her son and Shane in an instant. "Rick said no guns. This is not your call. This is not your decision to make."

"Oh shit," announced T-Dog suddenly, catching everyone's attention.

At the edge of the woods appeared Hershel, Rick and Jimmy. Along with them, there were two walkers at the end of a couple of poles.

Marlie's eyes went wide at the sight.

"What is that?" growled Shane, breaking into a sprint towards Rick, followed closely by everyone else. "What the hell are you doin'?"

"Shane, just back off," ordered Rick impatiently. He was holding onto a long rod with a very unhappy walker tied at the end.

Hershel had an identical set up. "Why do your people have guns?" he asked calmly.

"Do you see what they're holdin' onto?" Shane spat.

"I see who I'm holding onto," corrected Hershel.

Rick strained against his walker. He was in no mood to go toe-to-toe with his partner. "Let us do this and then we can talk."

"Talk about what?" shouted Shane. "These things ain't sick.

"Jesus," Marlie whispered shakily, keeping several feet back and frowning when Daryl got closer to point his new shotgun at the head of one geek.

Shane continued aggressively. "They're not people! They're dead! All they do is kill! These things, right here. These are the things that killed Amy! They killed Otis! They killed whoever led you to cut your wrists!"

Marlie tensed under his words. He looked right at her. Right at her. For a moment, she had completely forgotten about the fact that her gloves were gone and her scars were perfectly visible to the world. But she remembered now and rubbed at them timidly.

"They'll kill all of us unless we do somethin'!"

"Shane, shut up!" screamed Rick, finally having enough of the other man's psychobabble.

But he wasn't done. "Hershel, let me ask you somethin'. Could a livin', breathin' person walk away from this?" Bang. His handgun went off and a bullet flew through one of the walker's abdomen. Then another went into its chest. One more followed suit.

"STOP IT!" commanded Rick furiously.

Shane completely ignored him. "I just put two rounds in its chest. If someone was alive, could they just take that? Why is it still comin'? The heart, the lungs," he wondered, still shooting.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"You're right," agreed Shane, hurrying up to the bullet-riddled walker. "That is enough." A final shot to the skull ended it.

And everyone stood in shock. No one had ever seen Shane act the way he was now. Heartless, cold, murderous. It didn't matter that he'd only killed a walker. The look in his eyes while he did it said that he was capable of doing it to anybody else, dead or alive.

Marlie didn't know what to do or think or say. So she stood there, motionless behind Daryl, who still had his gun trained on the remaining walker's head. She stared at Hershel, who had fallen to his knees beside the dead geek, horror and sadness casting shadows in his eyes. This was the world she lived in. A world where people turned into Shanes and ceased to care about other's feelings.

"I'm done riskin' our lives for a little girl who's gone!" Shane looked directly at Carol as he spoke. "Enough!"

Flinching at the hatred and rage in the man's voice, Marlie quickly found her way to Carol's side, putting a comforting arm around the older woman's shoulder. There were tears in both of their eyes.

And Shane ranted on, his voice never lowering, his anger always building. "Livin' next to a barn full of things that are tryin' to kill us. Enough! Rick, it ain't like it was before. Now, if you all wanna live, if you wanna survive, you gotta fight for it! I'm talking about right here, right now! Fight!" He turned around and ran for the barn behind him.

Rick looked down a speechless Hershel. "Take this, Hershel. Take it!" he begged, trying to hand off the walker to the old man. Rick couldn't deal with Shane unless his walker was taken care of. "Take it!"

But Hershel didn't move. Nobody did. They all just watched as Shane beat on the barn door. Beat at the latches and locks that were keeping the dead and the living separate.

As much as Marlie wanted to move and intervene, her legs were stuck in their place beside Carol. Marlie was terrified. She shook against Carol, which certainly didn't help comfort the older woman, but Marlie couldn't stop. Her mind was rattling, her heart was racing, she was stunned. "Daryl," she said quietly, to get his attention and hopefully bring him to her. Marlie wanted him as far away from the barn and the walkers as possible.

The hunter looked over his shoulder at her, saw her conflicted expression, and realized that he was just as concerned and confused as she was. But he couldn't lower his shotgun. He refused. It was for everyone's safety and he wouldn't leave the geek unguarded, but he wasn't about kill it in cold blood as Shane had. He did, however, take a step back towards Marlie. He hoped that would comfort her a little bit, now that he was that much farther from the starving walker before him.

People were shouting, crying out for Shane to stop. But he wouldn't listen. He just smashed at the door's latches with a pick-axe until they broke free.

Marlie's heart skipped a beat when the locks fell away.

He lifted away the wooden plank that was laid across the door and threw it to the ground.

There was nothing keeping the walkers in now.

"SHANE, PLEASE!" screamed Lori, clutching onto Carl's hand tightly.

"STOP!" Rick cried, helpless.

But he didn't stop. The son of a bitch banged loudly on the barn door, further riling up the monsters within, and then he hurried back to the group, weapon at the ready.

Marlie reached for her blade, but didn't unsheathe it. Not even when the first walker squeezed through the unlocked barn doors. Not when the first shot was fired. Not when Shane took aim at the walker in Rick's grasp and blew it away. Not when Glenn was given permission by a tearful Maggie to do what he had to do. Not when Daryl started shooting and formed a line alongside T-Dog, Andrea, Glenn, and Shane. She simply stood beside Carol, holding her up against her side because there was nothing else that could be done to make anybody feel better. Marlie saw Hershel, still kneeled on the ground, sad and hurt and horrified, and there was nothing to be done.

The last walker fell and it was over. The air smelled of gunpowder and death.

Dale walked passed Marlie, his eyes focused on the disgusting scene before him, unsure of what to say or do. So he, like most everyone else, stood still and quiet.

Daryl breathed heavily and looked over his shoulder at Marlie, who eyed him without expression. He'd never seen her like that before. Slowly, the man made his way over to her, to hold her and apologize, but to tell her that it had to be done, that he was looking out for the group, protecting it.

And she would accept that and hold him close to her and they'd wait to see what happens next.

But that wasn't how it went. Things never happened how they were suppose to, because all attention was directed back at the barn, stopping Daryl in his tracks. There was hoarse breathing coming from just inside and it grew louder and louder.

Shane lifted his gun, preparing to eliminate the final foe. But he hadn't been expecting what appeared a moment later and his gun fell back to his side.

The world fell down around everyone as Sophia took a step into the sun, snarling and breathing hard. She lifted her eyes and sank every beating heart in sight.

"No," Carol breathed beside Marlie, shrugging off the younger woman's arm and hurrying out of her reach towards Sophia.

Marlie barely made a move after the woman, though, for she crossed paths with Daryl and he was quick to stop her.

"Sophia," Carol said quietly, sadly, as she fell to her knees with Daryl. She reached out uselessly, begging for her daughter, who had become the one thing that haunted all of their nightmares.

And there was nothing to be done.

Rick took a step towards the little girl, then another, and another, quickening his pace through the group and passed Shane until he was mere feet from Sophia.

What had once been Sophia.

He raised his gun hesitantly, his jaw tensed and trembling, and fired.

The little girl collapsed onto the ground, her form crumpled and unmoving.

And suddenly, at the sound of Carol's sobbing, the final gunshot, Carl curled up in his mother's lap begging for his friend back, everything fell into place around Marlie. She remembered her dream. She remembered why she had wanted to die. She didn't want to live in this kind of world. Seeing Daryl kneeled beside a distraught Carol, Marlie realized something that she hadn't before, something that she had chose to ignore and replace with nice things.

There was no hope. There never had been.