Outside Atlanta

Today, I thought my dad was going to kill your dad. And you were right next to me when it happened, and it was just . . . it sucked. But if my dad had killed him, your dad would have deserved it. Because that would have meant your dad killed Jim. He got bit last night. I know that's supposed to mean he's going to turn, but my dad thinks there might be a cure for the walkers, which is why in the morning we're going to the CDC. Mom told me that means Center for Disease Control and that they know all about all of the diseases, so I bet they do have a cure. Everything can go back to how it was, and people can stop dying so much.

But your dad didn't think the CDC would be able to do anything. So he tried to kill Jim, before he could turn. My dad put a gun to his head and made him stop. My dad said, "We don't kill the living," and your dad said, "That's funny, coming from the man who just put a gun to my head," but that wouldn't have been the same thing. If my dad had killed your dad, it would have been because he had to. Your dad didn't have to kill Jim. That would have been murder. Like what the walkers do.

I'm trying to be nice to you, and be your friend, but your dad's making it hard. He got into that fight with my dad, and he tried to kill Jim, and this morning he yelled at you when you – and me, too – came out of the RV to get a better look at Jim's bite. It didn't seem to bother you much, but it had to. My dad never yells at me like that. And you know what? You're making it hard for me to be nice, too. You just don't want to talk. I get that my dad might have shot your dad, but he had no choice. You can't be mean because of that. It's not fair.

You didn't really cry when we buried all of the dead people – Amy, and Sophia's dad, too, and . . . all of them. I guess maybe it wasn't so hard on you. You didn't get to know them very well.

I'm glad we're leaving tomorrow.

My dad told me they couldn't find your uncle. Sorry.