First of all, his name wasn't Morales. He had told the steroid-addled deputy, Shane, this multiple times over the first few days and had finally given up. None of these people were rocket scientists, and there were more important things at hand. He'd explained to Miranda and the children that they must answer to the name. They had practiced it at night since their lives now depended on it.

He wasn't the only one who had gained a new name, of course. Ted Douglas, the mechanical engineer from Atlanta, had attempted to explain his name to the deaf old man, Dale, who somehow mangled it into T-Dog. Ted got a kick out of his presumed past as a former gang-banger and would occasionally pretend to actually be one. Morales was pretty sure a lot of the lines Ted was using were from The Wire. Ted was philosophical about his stay with the group, too - he had told Morales that he figured he would stick around until he had another group to join (the test would be whether they could get his name straight, he had joked) and then he was gone.

Morales was also getting extremely tired of being ignored when solutions were needed. He had been trying to tell them about the fully stocked camper he found on the other side of the quarry for days now, but something always interrupted them. One time when Shane and Lori were sneaking off to have sex, he was sure that they had noticed that there was a sparkling new, tour bus-sized RV hidden in in a slight cove on the west side of the quarry, but they didn't. It was full of bottled water, tools, MREs and weapons. Clearly someone with survivalist skills had meant to use it to ride out whatever was happening but had been killed before he was able to return. Every time he had attempted to broach the subject, something had happened. One time Jim got his head stuck in a bucket, and another time Amy accidentally set her shoe on fire.

If it hadn't been for the Dixon brothers, he would have completely lost his mind. He thought fondly back to the times that it had been just him, the Dixons and Ted sitting around the campfire late at night, comparing notes about the group. They seemed to do everything wrong. For example, why was Dale, who had broken his glasses weeks ago, still the lookout for the group? Why didn't Andrea and her sister use bait when they were fishing? Did Shane and Lori seriously think no one knew about them? (For God's sake, with the rest of the group's approval, Dale had been doping Carl with benadryl every night because the two of them made such a racket.) Things like that used to crack them up.

One time, though, on a more serious evening, he'd asked the Dixons why they stayed with the group, and the answer he got was that they felt in good conscience that if they left they would be leaving these people to their deaths, and they couldn't walk away from children in need.

Those Dixons were class acts all the way. He felt honored to know them.

The turning point came when he had decided to accompany the group into the city to look for supplies because the last trip they went on had been such a disaster. They had returned with practically nothing and had lost two members of the group. At that time, he had silently cursed Shane's insistence that they raid a Vitamin Shoppe rather than a drug store or, well, pretty much anything. This time Andrea was insisting that they should raid a department store rather than trying the Costco that was on the outskirts of the city. Morales's objections went unnoticed except by Merle, who had worked in the Costco loading dock there during the holidays, so he knew his way around the building pretty well.

Unfortunately for Merle, the group had become convinced that every innocuous statement the man made was a threat of some sort. This was due to a whispering campaign instigated by Shane after Merle had diplomatically suggested that Shane and Lori be more discreet about their trysting. Shane lost it and began to pre-emptively discredit Merle by calling him a racist. Shane even went so far as to tell people that the Tibetan symbol that Merle had carefully painted on his motorcycle was in fact a swastika. It didn't take long before the group believed he was a violent meth-soaked criminal. They had taken to threatening to shoot him whenever he said anything. Merle tried to shake off the cruelty of the other group members, but his friends knew that Merle was terribly hurt. He was especially angry at Shane calling him a drug user. Merle only took baby aspirin and a mild sedative for his social anxiety.

Unsurprisingly, Merle's counsel again went ignored. A defeated Merle started taking the drugs he had brought with him, telling Morales that he was pretty sure those idiots were going to kill him or get him killed and he might as well be in an altered state when it happened. Morales didn't have the heart to point out that the pills Merle took would only relax him and help his heart, not alter his perception. Merle took things to heart, and this group had already hurt him so many times. Morales couldn't blame Merle for deciding to leave the group that afternoon.

With Ted, they had worked out a plan where Merle and Ted would get in a heated fight and Merle would leave the group in an angry huff. When Rick intervened and handcuffed Merle to a pipe on the roof of the department store they were forced to improvise. Ted feigned leaving Merle on the roof because he had "lost" the key to the handcuffs. Merle would then take his chances on his own. The plan was typical Merle, Morales mused. The guy couldn't stand conflict.

He wished Merle's brother had come with them, but Daryl appeared to have an unerring survival instinct in the sense that he was never around when the group was most off the tracks. Just the other day, the group came up with their latest hare-brained scheme, which involved setting off road flares and using a megaphone to get the attention of the authorities. Morales chuckled remembering how Daryl had suddenly claimed to have seen a "flock of cows" walking through the woods and hurried off to hunt them. (Improv wasn't strength for the taciturn younger Dixon.)The others didn't appear to recognize that they were being played, except for Shane, but he was so eager to have private time with Lori that he was glad to see the most observant member of the group gone.

That was in the last place they had camped. They lost 18 people that night. It was at that point that things stopped being remotely funny. It was pretty clear these people were doomed.

His spirits started to lift when he met Rick. The man seemed to be a bit of an idealist for the world they were in, but at least he was practical and a quick thinker, with a natural authority. He also had weapons and a walkie-talkie. Morales returned to the camp feeling more optimistic than he had in days despite the array of useless supplies they were bringing. Morales had brought a tent and Ted found some tarps, but other than that they had nothing of any real value. All Andrea had taken was a necklace for her sister, for example. The elegant blonde had a screw loose – she was constantly pulling guns on people and had actually once tried to shoot the lid off a can of tomato soup rather than use a can opener. He wasn't going to say anything to her, of course, because he didn't want to be shot. Glen, who was a genius at finding things and solving problems, hadn't been able to get anything because he was so busy squeezing through air ducts at the group's behest.

When they got to camp with their ridiculous supplies and a new member of the group, there was a stunned silence, which was broken when Carl yelled, "Daddy!" and threw himself in Rick's arms. Lori followed shortly after, with a quick look at Shane. One look at the expression on Shane's face told Morales everything he needed to know. Over Shane's shoulder he saw Daryl, who was emerging from the woods with a deer on his shoulders. He watched in wry admiration as the hunter dropped the animal at the edge of the camp, turned on his heel, and headed back into the forest before any of the others had noticed his return. The man's instincts never failed him.

When he went back to the camper, he had made his decision. His family was leaving as soon as they could, and they were taking the hidden camper with them. He'd need to put it someplace so they could make a hasty departure at dawn. That would mean he'd need some time away from the group to make sure everything was in order. He mulled it over. Maybe he could pretend to be hunting with Daryl for…snipe? Yeah, this group would fall for that.

He smiled grimly, content that he would be keeping his family safe from this group and the soap opera that was about to unfold. He felt a moment's sadness for Rick. He seemed like a nice guy, but he would be dead within the week if he judged the look of cold rage on Shane's face correctly.

Still, at least he and his family would be safe, and that's what mattered.

He called to the group, "I'm going to help Daryl hunt…uh…" He trailed off, but the group was now focused on the strained Lori/Shane/Rick interaction. Only Dale saw him leave, and called, "Buena suerte!"

Rather than explain for the last time that he did not speak Spanish, he smiled broadly and waved back, saying, "De nada. Vaya con dios. Una paloma blanca."