"Randal is gone," T-Dog shouted as his legs moved him into a sprint towards the other. The bald man couldn't understand; the door wasn't unlocked, and there hadn't been any signs of distress around the entrance. Yet, Randal wasn't where he should've been. Panic overtook those who overheard T-Dog's frantic message.
"What?!" Daryl howled, narrowing his eyes once T-Dog made it to the blue truck. "What do you mean he is gone?! The hell could he have gone?!"
"He wasn't in the shed. He's not there," T-Dog breathed, doubling over to take in some air.
Willow shifts, looking towards the shed hidden by the tree line. If the boy did escape, he couldn't be too far. But the real question was, as everyone moved out into the open, where Shane had gone?
The group searched the surrounding area near the shed. T-Dog was right; not a damn thing indicated that Randal broke his way out. Inside the shed still sat the chains where Randal had been bounded, and the blanket with his blood on it remained.
"I don't get it," Jodie spoke. She slowly made her way down the ladder connected at the side of the shed. "How?! And how long has he been gone?!"
"The cuffs are still hooked," Rick explains while leaving from the inside of the rustic foundation. "He must have slipped 'em."
"Is that even possible?" Carol held Sophia close as she always did, darting her eyes between Hershel and Rick.
"It is if you have nothing to lose," Andrea answered, stomping out, studying the trees.
"The door was secured from the outside." Hershel pushed at the only entrance and exit of what used to be operated as storage for farming equipment. If anyone knew the in's and out's, Hershel did. Even then, the older man couldn't figure out how Randal could walk away without anyone noticing. Willow searched the ground, attempting to see tracks using the skills Daryl had taught her, but nothing. Autumn leaves covered most of the land, and she couldn't make out any lining of a footprint.
Then, while gripping her bow, Willow glanced at everyone. She was silently counting each head, including herself. Seventeen people searched the surrounding area. One is still missing. Willow knew if anyone would go crazy about this, it'd be Shane. Alas, he is nowhere to be found. With some suspicion at the tip of her forehead, Willow turned to face Daryl, who glared at the ground.
"Where's Shane?" Willow whispered lowly.
Daryl, slightly surprised he missed this detail, did just as Willow did. And with the same conclusion, Daryl rests his beady eyes on her. A silent exchange took them over. Shane and Randal are gone, Shane dislikes the idea of Randal being turned loose, and Shane can be irrational. It doesn't matter who is in the way; the man is always determined to get his way.
"RICK!" A sudden harsh outcry came from behind the tree line. Daryl raised his crossbow towards a stomping Shane. His nose had been broken, and blood dripped down his face and neck—covering the collar of his white t-shirt. A crazed look washed over Shane's face. Something had changed. A more bottomless rage, it seems.
Everyone turned their attention onto a beaten Walsh in shock.
"What happened?!" Lori shouts.
"He's armed! He's got my gun!" Shane shouts, limping forward.
"Are you okay?!" Carl called out from beside his mother. Worried for his mentor.
"I'm fine. The little bastard just snuck up on me. He clocked me in the face!"
Willow lowers her chin, examining Shane and his body language before speaking, "He really did that to you?" Shane stopped just shy in front of Rick, and his unhinged glare sat onto Hunter as if her questioning were offensive.
"Yes! Didn't you just hear me?!" Shane spat, ready to argue, but before anyone could throw choice words, Rick swirled to face the others.
"All right, Hershel, T-Dog, get everybody back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, Willow, and Jodie come with us."
"T, I'm gonna need that gun," Shane breathlessly spoke.
"Just let 'em go," Carol called out, furrowing her brows. "That was the plan, wasn't it, to let him go?"
"The plan was to cut him loose far away from here, not on our front step with a gun," Shane snatched T-Dog's gun from out of his grasp before joining the others on their hunt to find Randal. Carol took a few steps closer, wrapping her cardigan around her body to keep herself warm. She couldn't gather why the others needed to leave. A bad feeling bubbled at the bottom of her gut, and she swore, after Dale's death, nothing would happen to anyone else.
Yet, she stood helplessly, watching her friends leave.
"Don't go out there. Y'all know what can happen," Carol called out. Sophia, saddened, watched Daryl and Willow walk away into the unknown. Aya, catching the dreadful expression on her young face, placed a hand onto her shoulder.
"Get everybody back in the house," Rick spoke over his shoulder. "Lock all the doors and stay put."
Willow and Jodie walked alongside the three men, catching worried glances between each other.
"I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out. I'm not sure how long," Shane explains as the small searching party stepped over orange and yellow leaves and fallen branches.
"He couldn't have gotten far. He's hobbled, exhausted," Rick spoke.
"And armed," Glenn adds.
"So are we," Rick turned his head to see Daryl studying the ground. "Can you track him?"
"Nah, I don't see nothin'," Daryl answered truthfully, perplexed. The direction the group stood revealed no sign of disruptive flooring. Animals prints at best.
"Hey, look, there ain't no use in tracking him, okay?" Shane points towards the north. "He went that way. We need to pair up. We spread out; we just chase him down. That's it."
Daryl perked his shoulders, noticing Shane's eagerness to split up. Never in the history of humanity did splitting up do anyone any good.
"Kid weighs a buck–25 soakin' wet. Same height as Dee. You tryin' to tell us he got the jump on you?"
"I say a rock pretty much evens those odds, wouldn't you?" Shane hissed. "Hey, if you and your side piece don't wanna believe me, you can leave this to us, and y'all can go back on the farm and keep playing house."
Daryl scowled. Willow kept Daryl in place.
"All right, knock it off. You and Glenn start heading up the right flank. Me and Shane'll take the left. Jodie and Willow, you two make around us. Remember, Randal's not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other."
***
"I can't see a damn thing," Jodie mumbled, nearly tripping over her feet. Willow stalks ahead, keeping her eyes forward and allowing the full moon to guide their way. She couldn't see a hint of anything. With the little lessons she had learned, nothing seemed to show for it. "This is frustrating."
"Shush," Willow hissed, stopping to listen. Crickets and animal calls could be heard in the distance—no walker in sight. The older woman continues with Jodie at her heel.
"I can't believe Randal could do that..." Jodie proceeded with her one-sided conversation. With her bat ready, she turned her head to the right, thinking she might have heard something move in the thick bushes.
Willow scoffed, checking the trees for any signs; then, she paused to meet her sister's outline. "You can't be this stupid," Willow whispered, wiping the sweat from her upper lip. Jodie felt a pinch of annoyance. "You really believe Shane let that boy overtake him?"
"Yeah? But you don't?" Jodie questioned.
"No," Willow shook her head. "Shane did something he wasn't supposed to. I'm not liking the idea of us being split up. This is more than Randal."
Jodie stood in turmoil. She knew Shane disliked Willow and could barely stand Rick's conclusions 90% of the time, but Jodie couldn't understand why Shane would risk taking Randal away or why being alone with Rick was such a bad thing. They were best friends at the end of the day. Best friends are supposed to be there for each other. No matter what.
A short breeze gave way, and the sisters realized they had made their way back to where they had first split up. So, Willow proposed to find Daryl and Glenn. They walked for half a mile when the silhouettes of the two men came to view. They were looking at something lumpy on the ground, speaking amongst themselves.
When Willow's foot dragged across the dead leaves, Daryl snapped towards her direction with his bow drawn. Glenn, on the other hand, yelped, placing a flash of light onto the sisters. Both women raised hands to cover their view. Unimpressed.
"Get that thing out of our face!" Jodie hissed, waving at Daryl's crossbow.
"Are you two tryin' to get killed tonight?!" Daryl scolded. "Sneakin' and shit."
Glenn placed a hand onto his chest. His heart bumped against it, and his cheeks grew flushed in embarrassment.
"Sorry, Glenn," Willow cooed, then looked seriously at Daryl. "We didn't find anything. It's empty out there."
After a moment of calculating, Daryl waves for Willow and Jodie to follow him. In time, Dixon informs the sisters of his findings. Two sets of footprints could be seen in the surrounding area. The prints were close together, far closer than Shane had told them before. Too deep in the woods. In a short distance, a sign of a struggle imprinted the dirt. Then, a single set of feet steps went back towards the direction of the farm. The funny thing is Daryl couldn't fathom Randal's footsteps lazily going in the opposite direction. As if he had fallen, laid in that spot for a short spell, then got up with a drunk swagger.
Pointing the flashlight, Glenn revealed Randal on the ground just two paces from where he stood.
There, in the earth, lay a deceased Randal. His neck is broken. Skin a pale blue. Lips chapped and eyes the same color as egg yolk. Jodie and Willow knelt, examining the body.
"His neck was broken," Daryl says, pointing at Randal's neck. "Aint no bite marks on 'em."
"What?" Willow does a double-take at Glenn and Daryl. "What do you mean he wasn't bit? There can't be any other reason he'd turn into a walker."
"But he did. I swear, there ain't nothin' there. That's how he died."
Willow and Jodie exchanged glances.
Raising his shirt to see his bloated abdomen for any bites or scratch marks, she then searched his arms and any visible skin. Nothing came in sight, as Daryl had said.
"How is this even possible?" Willow gasped, jerking her hands away from Randal's corpse. She felt sorry for the boy. Perhaps she wanted him dead days before, but this - this is inhuman and, in fact - made her stomach churn.
***
In the farmhouse, Aya gently glides her hand against Sophia's back to comfort her. Carol paced, biting her nails while the others murmured to themselves. Awaiting the arrival of the others. More so, they hoped to see their faces again. They should have been back by now, but yet again, time seemed to slow down, and there was no sign of the others.
"I'm going after them," Andrea stood up from where she and Beth sat.
Lori shook her head with disagreement, "Don't. They could be anywhere, and if Randal comes back, we are going to need you."
Andrea sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. This waiting felt like some perpetual punishment. What good can they do being held up behind walls, waiting for the others who could be dead and/or possibly wait for their own demise?
Just as Andrea sat back down beside Beth, the side door leading into the home opened; Glenn, Daryl, Willow, and Jodie hurried into the well-lit house to see anxious faces. The four searched the crowded room yet noticed Shane and Rick missing.
"Rick and Shane ain't back?" Daryl questioned Lori as he walked deeper into the room.
"No," Lori answered anxiously.
"We heard shots," Daryl informs, glancing at Carol and then Hershel.
"Maybe they found Randal," Lori waved her hand to dismiss this. In hopes that nothing happened to her husband and her once lover.
"We found him," Willow says.
"Back in the shed?" Carol asked.
"He's a walker...." Jodie scratched the back of her ear, still conflicted by the scene back in the woods.
"Did you find the walker that bit him?" Hershel crossed his arms, already tired of the lack of information.
"No, the weird thing is — he wasn't bit. His neck was broken," Glenn swallowed, adjusting Dale's fishermen's hat upon his slick hair.
"So he fought back," Patricia, Otis' wife, spoke from beside Maggie. She played with her crucifix pendant attached to the gold necklace around her neck.
"Thing is, Shane and Randal's tracks were right on top of each other. And Shane ain't no tracker, so he didn't come up behind him. They were together," Daryl explains the best he could.
Lori removed a shaky hand from her mouth and quickly stepped closer to Daryl. Nothing is making sense anymore. Not Shane's lies. Not Randal's death. Not even the time her husband has been out there in the dark. Lori felt a sense of women's intention seeping into her bones, just as Carol felt earlier that evening.
"Would you please find Rick and Shane and find out what on earth is going on?"
Daryl nods, "You got it." Dixon moves past, and Willow follows behind him. Not wanting the dirty blonde to go alone. Not this time. The pair made their way out into the cold night. However, the moonlight shimmered down on the landscape, and a horrifying scene surprised the duo. Across the field, coming out of the trees, dozens of walkers staggered towards the house. Their loud moans sliced through the silent air and the smell of rotting flesh already engulfed the area.
Willow clenched her jaw while her eyes grew ten times their size. She took Daryl by the rolled-up sleeve of his button-up and drew closer to him. They could see the walking dead miles and miles away. Possibly half, if not all, wandered from out of the city of Atlanta.
"Oh, my God..." Willow whispered, and in fear, they stood. Unable to move.