AT WORLDS END || Daryl Dixon [1]

thirteen.

As the day dragged on, and only Glenn and Shane came back from the search, Connie couldn't get over the feeling of impending terror and exhaustion.

At first, she hadn't been able to do anything but pace; back and forth in front of the side rails on the highway while biting at her nails until they'd bled. She'd cried herself out, which she knew was dangerous because in the Georgia heat, dehydration could kill you just as easily as the walkers could.

Then, she'd had to do something.

She looted through car after car, grabbing things like shampoos and soaps and toothpaste and mouthwash and any other kinds of hygienic supplies. She also kept an eye out for any kinds of winter clothes too, knowing that she'd take them without question if it meant avoiding having to go into someone's house later on.

After a good hour she had filled an old suitcase and had dragged it back to the RV, then stocked everything back up as best as she could. Deciding to forgo the women shirts aside from tank tops, she grabbed several men's tee-shirts and another few flannels she could wear when the weather inevitably got colder.

She'd spent a good hour rifling through cars for something to help with the growing infection in T-Dogs arm, preferably some kind of antibiotic. But the only things she found was a bottle of Vodka, a container of Advil, and two bottles of piercing cleaner liquid which was good for cleaning wounds. It would have to do.

By the time the sun was setting she was sitting back on the guard rail with her elbows on her knees, head hanging low. She didn't feel like crying again, but she didn't know what else to do either. So she just sat there.

Her chest felt heavy, like not knowing where her daughter was had filled her veins with cement and it was beginning to set. Carol was behind her waiting as well, and though neither of them spoke, they knew they were both feeling comfort in knowing they weren't alone.

"You didn't find her?" Was the first thing she heard, and her head snapped up.

Rick and Daryl were back, covered in another layer of dirt and sweat that showed just how much effort they'd put into the search for the two girls. "Their trail went cold," Rick confirmed shakily.

Immediately, Connie felt herself deflate. She slumped so that all of her upper body weight was on her thighs and her forehead was practically touching the ground. Her eyes were covered with her palms as she fought back a wave of nausea that threatened to consume her, because this is my fault.

"We'll pick it up again at first light," Rick promised Carol shakily, but Connie couldn't bring herself to look up as Carol sobbed out, you can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the woods.

She felt an unbelievably hesitant hand settle on her shoulder for a moment before it was moved, but she still felt warm fingertips periodically bump her arm. "Out in the dark's no good," Daryl's gruff voice came from beside her, causing her to look up out of mild surprise. "We'd just be tripping over ourselves. More people get lost."

"But she's 12," Carol whimpered out, her entire body trembling with horror. "And Holly's only 8, they — they can't be out there on their own."

Connie bit down on her bottom lip as she forced herself to hold all her panic and grief inside. "You didn't find anything?" She whispered, feeling her eyes betray her and flood with tears as she met Rick's desperate face.

"I know this is hard," he whispered hoarsely. "But I'm asking you not to panic. We know they were out there. And we tracked 'em for a while. We have to make this an organized effort. Daryl knows the woods better than anybody. I've asked him to oversee this."