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"I dropped the damn key."

The wind rolled through her hair and the fading sunlight danced across her face.

Amara sat next to Rick in the front of the moving truck. Window rolled down and her hand hanging out of it.

She looked over at Rick and noticed a look on his face she understood. Guilt.

"It's best to not dwell on it. Merle Dixon is a piece of shit anyway." She said lightly, fingertips tapping on the truck. 

When he didn't respond, she tried again. "Rick, nobody is going to miss him, okay?"

She didn't really know if that was true, but she hoped for their sake it was.

Morales cleared his throat from behind them. "Yeah, except maybe Daryl."

Rick turned his head, eyebrow furrowed. "Daryl?"

Morales sighed, sounding worried. "His brother."

And damn, that's not good.

The once faded car alarm was now loud and present. Amara twisted her head to see Glenn screaming with joy, his arm out the window and pumping vigorously.

She smiled faintly and for a moment, forgot where she was, or where she was going.

But then the thought popped in her mind again, making her bit her lip anxiously. She didn't even know these people.

Amara couldn't have another repeat of what happened last time. Because maybe this time, she won't survive.

"'Mara, I'm thirsty." A small voice whined and a hand tugged on her sleeve.

"Baby I know, but you have to be quiet." She hushed, trying not to let the fear mix in her voice.

She quickly looked around, making sure she hadn't woken anybody up. The fire crackled and shook, lighting up the small camp with an orange glow.

"But I'm thirsty!"

Someone from beside her grunted and rolled over, she froze, holding her breath.

It was quiet for a moment and then the man rested, falling back asleep. She closed her eyes in relief.

"Anna, please go back to sleep."

The young girl only made a noise of refusal, sighing loudly and throwing down her arms on the sleeping bag.

"But I really-" she was cut off by the clicking of a gun.

"If she doesn't shut the fuck up, I'll do it for her." Amara tilted her head and saw the barrel of a gun was pointed directly at her sister's head.

Her teeth clacked as she tried to force a reply, but the fear coursing through her veins was burning and powerful.

"I'm sorry, she- she'll be quiet, I promise!"

The bearded man narrowed his eyes into slits. His jaw clenched angrily and he wet his lips.

"She fucking better. You're lucky she's still alive right now." Amara hastily nodded.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." And the gun was drawn away and the man grunted in reply before settling down in his sleeping bag again.

"'Mara, I wanna go home." The girl had burrowed herself into Amara's neck and soaked it with her quiet tears.

"Shh, baby I know." Amara pet her knotted hair in attempt of calming her down.

"Amara."

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