RIDE OR DIE | DARYL DIXON

cherokee rose

THE GROUP GATHERED around the hood of the old pickup truck.

"How long has this little girl been lost?" Hershel looked to Rick.

"This'll be day three."

Maggie squeezed between the two, laying out a large map, placing a small stone on each corner to hold it down to the hood. "County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations."

"This is perfect." Rick trailed his eyes along each contour line of the map. "We can finally get this thing organized. We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams."

"Perfect." Willow shifted her balance, listening in on Rick's plan.

"Not you." Hershel turned to her. "Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out."

She was going to argue, but the group shared the same look. A look that said 'Hershel's right. Don't argue.' So she kept quiet.

"And you," Hershel turned to Shane now. "Your ankle- push it now, you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody."

"Guess it's just me." Daryl groaned. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there."

"We can't just send you out there on your own, Daryl." Willow looked at him, but she could tell alone or not, he'd be going out there to find Sophia.

"I can still be useful." Shane added. "I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back."

Willows eyes narrowed down at Shane. Something didn't sit right with her about him.

"Alright, tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right." Rick began to walk back with Lori to where Glenn had been setting up tents outside of the farmhouse.

"I don't feel comfortable having guns sprawled around on my land." Hershel whispered to Willow. "We've made it this far without turning this place into an army base."

She nodded, hesitantly removing her pistol from the back of her jeans, laying it down on top of the map. "I'll go collect some more."

Willow trailed off into the RV where Dale was taking a break from working on it. "Hey, Dale." She smiled at him.

"Hey." He looked up at her through the brim of his hat, returning a wide smile. "How's Sienna doing?"

She leaned back against the table of the RV. "As good as she can be considering the state of the world."

He nodded, wiping his hands on his pants.

"You seen our bag of guns?" She asked him. "Hershel wants to collect them. Doesn't feel comfortable with everyone carrying."

"That's understandable. Half of these people don't have training." He began to mutter. "And some just shouldn't have a gun."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

He stared at her for a few seconds. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated on telling her more.

"I think Shane is a dangerous man." He took his hat off, twisting it anxiously between his hands. "I saw him and Rick in the woods looking for Sophia a few days back." He looked down at the trailed RV carpeting, shaking his head. "That man had Rick down the sights of his gun, and he held him there." He looked back up at Willow, expecting to see a look of shock, but it was only him that had that face.

"I think he's dangerous too." She responded. "I think he's bullshitting us with that 'Otis' death had meaning' story." She felt bad to say it because Otis' death should most definitely have meaning. It does have meaning, but not in the way Shane is letting on. "I feel comfortable telling you this because I know how observant you are with people. And I think you've been thinking about this too."