𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

[26]: guns

Like I had said many times before, I wanted not to be scared, or wimpy. I didn't know why, but I felt the need to show Daryl my life was worth saving. That he didn't have to baby me all the time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts and mindlessly staring at the growing pile of cans, by Andrea's voice.

"Where's my gun?" she asked directly to Dale.

"You don't need that just now, do you?" he said innocently. He was obviously concerned that she would do something drastic with it. Ever since the CDC went down, and she had that incident in the RV with a walker, I noticed Dale was keeping a watchful eye on Andrea constantly.

"My father gave it to me," she defended. "It's mine."

They argued some more until Shane interrupted. He turned into police officer mode. "Everything cool?"

"No, I want my gun back." Andrea was obviously displaying that things were not so cool.

I was going to walk over to Carol and comfort her, so I could tune out of their bickering. It was sometimes all you could hear in one day. But then Shane said something that instantly made me nervous, and put my arms around my sides. Right where the guns were situated.

"The truth is, less guns we have floating around camp the better."

Before Shane could the incriminating look on my face, I shuffled away quickly. Like I was doing an

imitation of a sly raccoon... A raccoon with guns.

When I got to Carol, she was looking out to the tree line. Avid to meet her daughter again.

"Hi Carol."

"It's getting dark, Marl" she squeaked.

"Well... Daryl is out there," I tried comforting her. "He found me, remember."

She didn't reply. This brought me to the conclusion that I failed at comforting her.

Then out of nowhere, Rick appeared. Daryl following suit. But with no Sophia. I inwardly cringed.

Carol immediately deflated.

"Y-You didn't find her?" Carol stuttered.

"Her trail went cold," Rick told her calmly. Guilt was clear in his blue eyes. "We'll pick it up again at first light."

"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own. To spend the night alone in the woods."

"Out in the dark's no good," Daryl rasped. "We'd just be tripping over ourselves. More people get lost"

This reminded of when Carl was in the RV after they had found me in the woods. Carl told me they had to wait the night because Daryl said it was too dark to search in the night.

"But she's twelve. She can't be out there on her own. You didn't find anything?" Carol pleaded.

I noticed the others had joined to watch the conversation. Particularly Lori, who had grasped Carol in attempt to calm her down.

"I know this is hard," Rick stated, lifting his hands up like his wife to calm her down. "But I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there."

"And we tracked her for a while," Daryl rasped again. Peeking at the fact that he did have the ability to be comforting. Or so I think so.

"We have to make this an organized effort," Rick said, now gesturing to all the group. "Daryl knows the woods better than anyone. I've asked him to oversee this."

I hadn't realised until then, but I had also been in those woods before. Me and the Dixon's didn't go far into them, as we like to stay close to the roads but not directly on them. I wasn't surprised that Daryl knew those woods. He had displayed a great sense of direction in our travels with Merle, seeming to have a map installed in his brain.

Carol's shaking hand pointed to Daryl. More specifically his trouser leg, where a patch of fresh blood was. This just made his dirty brown pants, just even more dirty and brown.

"I-Is that blood?" she asked.

"We took down a walker," Rick said quickly.

Still, Carol didn't like the sound of that. "A walker? Oh my God." She was close to hyperventilating.

"There was no sign it was anywhere near Sophia," Rick comforted, bending down to Carol's height.

"How can you tell?" I asked.

There was a long pause before Daryl confessed, "We cut the son o' bitch open. Made sure."

That was just vile. Everything must be just walker soup inside one of them.

Carol took some more deep breaths. Instead of passing out she opted to sit on the railing. She then looked up to poor Rick, who really needed a break. "How could you just leave her out there to begin with? How could you just leave her?"

"Those two walkers were on us," Rick defended. "I had to draw them off. It was her best chance."

"Sounds like he didn't have much of a choice, Carol," Shane added.

Rick was now kneeling down, wiping his face in frustration and probably regret. It was eating away at him.

"How was she supposed to find her way back on her own? She's just a child."

"It was my only option. The only choice I could make."

"I'm sure nobody doubts that," Shane spoke up to his friend.

It was clear to me that there was no convincing Carol. And all I could do was look at her with sad eyes.

She needed someone to blame, and that someone seemed to be Rick for now. It's easier to deal with losing someone when you blame someone. But if you blame yourself, that's when grief can be the most destructive.

That's what happened to me when my parents died. I blamed myself.

I mean how couldn't I blame myself. They died on my birthday, going out to get my present. I didn't even blame the damn dog they were getting that day. The policemen called it an accident.

I still blame myself to this day. I'm still convinced it was my fault.

I huffed in sadness. Everything was just so glum at this point.

I felt so rude to do it, but I had to walk away before I got too invested with my past.

Some people followed. Including Glenn, whom I hadn't spoken to in a while. He seemed to be putting me off ever since the CDC.

"Hey, Gle-"

I was cut off by myself, as I tripped over the big plastic bottle of water that Shane had brought over. I managed to stay balanced and not face-plant the ground.

Not such a sly raccoon any more.

I looked around, and Glenn was staring at me with concern. But he looked like he was regretting being concerned for me. "You okay?" he asked. It was in a tone that was totally not Glenn-like. It was slightly monotone. Not in any way full of feeling like he usually was.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered.

He took this like a cue to leave, and turned to walk away. But I wasn't finished with him.

"Glenn?"

He stopped in his tracks and looked back at me.

"Did I do something wrong, because I would really like to know?"

He paused.

"Nice hat," he answered, referring to the grey beanie on my head.

He avoided my question, which meant I definitely did something wrong.

I grasped the hat on my head, and whipped it at the floor. Stepping over it as I walked the opposite direction to him.