The next morning the air was misty and cool against my skin. I hadn't slept all alone in a little tent they'd offered me, just stared up at the ceiling twirling my karambit knife all night like it was toy. I've discovered that I do that pretty often when I'm thinking too hard about something. I gathered up my gear that had happily been returned to me yesterday and took a seat by the fire. I was the only one awake as far as I could tell as I waited impatiently. I began twirling my knife again, listening to the sound of the fire popping until a wrestling noise from the tree put me on high alert. Slowly I stood out of my chair, following the noise I couldn't see with my eyes, knife at the ready until Daryl immerged from the thickets and stopped to stare at me.

"You gonna stab me or not?" he grumbled at me. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I lowered my knife and returned it to its sheath on my thigh. He had a string with a few squirrels hanging off it, his crossbow hanging off his shoulder. I had to admit I was surprised to see somebody other than myself use a crossbow. 

I returned to my seat by the campfire, a few of the others beginning to stir themselves awake and roam about the camp. Daryl had sat himself on a log just to the side of the RV, gutting and skinning the squirrels he'd killed. Every so often I'd see him stealing not so friendly glares in my direction.  The feeling was neutral as our acquaintances started off by me punching him in the face. It was fairly simply, he didn't trust me and I didn't trust any of them. Turning my attention, I spotted Rick gathering people willing to go back into the city for Merle. 

"Count me in," I volunteered, joining the circle. A small circle might I add, that consisted of only Rick, Glenn, T-dog, Daryl and myself. It was probably safe to say that not many people liked Merle. 

"No way tree girl," Daryl spit out at me as I glared daggers towards him. 

"You sure that's a good idea? You were sick just a few days ago," Rick reminded me. I nodded my head, assuring him I was up for the task. He returned the nod which earned him a grunt from Daryl as he ushered everybody to hurry it up. Regrets were starting to weigh on me as I gathered my gear and headed towards the cube truck that brought me here in the first place. 

I took a seat against the wall in the back of the truck, settling in for what would probably be a very bumpy and windy ride. Across from me was T-dog and Daryl as Rick and Glenn rode up front. I began twirling my Karambit again in hopes to pass the time and keep me occupied. I wasn't excited about going back into the city, considering that last time I stepped foot in the place I nearly died. I never like the city even before the fall though, to many people, to much noise. 

"Try not to poke your eye out with that thing..." Daryl snarled at me in a low tone of voice.

"Let me worry about me," I shot back at him. He scoffed, leaning his head back against the wall and shutting his eyes. Maybe now he'll finally leave me alone. 

~~~

The van came to a slow stop, signaling that we were officially in Atlanta as I rose to my feet and strapped my backpack to my shoulders. The door slid open and we all jumped out along some sort of train tracks. Glenn began talking us through the plan as we ventured closer, explaining that we'd be going for Merle first, then the bag of guns. Supposedly when Rick first entered the city, he had lost a bag full of police issued weapons and loads of ammo. How somebody could just lose something that valuable I didn't understand but hopefully the dead kept anybody nearby from scooping them up.

Glenn led us up and down various ally ways, giving me the impression that he was fairly familiar with the area. Next thing I knew we were sneaking inside the back entrance of the department store that Merle was secured on the roof of. Rick signaled for Daryl and I to lead up front, trying at all cost to avoid shooting any guns. The last thing we needed was for us to get trapped on the roof yet again. Daryl took point, slowly setting foot into the dark store while I followed closely behind him. Our flashlights beamed all over the store, stopping on two biters who had now spotted us. An arrow from Daryl's crossbow sank into the first one's skull, landing on the floor with a thud as I aimed for the second. With great ease, I killed the second one, yanking my arrow from its head and reloading it back into my bow ready for a second use. 

After the stores ground floor was deemed clear, we pushed up the staircase. T-dog had brought some bolt cutters and was cutting the padlock as Daryl hissed at him to hurry up, busting through the door the moment the lock was broke. He started screaming his brother's name, likely alerting the dead wondering the streets just below. I wondered over to where I'd last seen Merle chained up, my eyes locked onto the pair of handcuffs still dangling to the pipe. They were coated in blood and laying just below it was a severed hand.

"Hey guys..." I called out for the others. They all gathered around me, staring down at the lifeless hand next to a hand saw. The crazy son of a bitch actually cut his own hand off! There looked to be a trail of blood leading over to a different door on the roof that led down, the doorway left wide open. I glanced over to Daryl who had a sadistic look in his eye as he stared at his brother's hand. He snapped, pointing his crossbow as T-dogs head, shouting that this was his fault for dropping the damn key. Rick quickly raised his pistol at the redneck's skull, pulling the hammer back and chambering a live round.

"I will not hesitate, I don't care if every walker in the city hears it," Rick threatened him. After a few more seconds of them having a stare down, Daryl lowered his crossbow and started to actually pick the hand up off the ground and wrap it inside a cloth. He stuck it in poor Glenns backpack for whatever odd reason.

"Well come on now! He's not dead yet," Daryl growled, starting to follow the blood trail. We followed the trail closely, though it wasn't hard to track with how much blood there was. The chances of him surviving after this was slim to none. If somehow Merle miraculously didn't die from bleeding out, infection would finish him off. In the back of my mind, I mentally prepared myself for the possibility of us stumbling across Merle as one of the dead. I wasn't sure if Daryl would be able to put his own family down. I know I couldn't...

The trail took us down the sidewalk and into some kind of restaurant next door. We followed it into the kitchen where there was a scent so foul it made us cover our nose from the stench. A stove top was left on full blast, the angry flames burning away leftover flesh on a large of pool of blood smeared all over the place. Merle actually cauterized the wound closed... what an absolute maniac. 

"Blood trail ends here," Rick announced.

~~~Don't be a silent reader!~~~

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