Daryl Dixon was hoping today would be the day. He'd spent the better part of the morning tracking a deer. Sweat was trickling down his back and the oppressiveness of the air made breathing seem hard. He'd give anything for a breeze. It would all be worth it though. He knew he was close. Venison would be a welcome change from the small game he'd harvested the last few days.

Hope was soon lost when a loud thrashing sound broke the silence. He scanned the woods trying to locate the source. Finally, he saw it. Two walkers were chasing a woman across a nearby ridge. He raised his crossbow and caught one of them in his sight. Stilling his breath, he released the arrow. It was an accurate head shot and the walker dropped like a large stringless puppet. By now their prey had collapsed and the second walker was closing in on her. He quickly reloaded, fired and with a thud, the walker folded at her feet.

Daryl surveyed the area making sure there were no other walkers in sight. Cautiously, he approached the woman who was lying on the ground in a crumpled heap. He laid down his bow and knelt by her side. Finding her unresponsive, he carefully rolled her onto her back. He was struck by how fragile she looked, like some dirty porcelain doll. Her face was streaked with mud and her hair was tangled with leaves. Placing his hand to her chest, he confirmed that she was breathing.

Daryl rose and went to each of the walkers, quickly retrieving his arrows from what was left of their decaying carcasses. He tossed his bow on his back and returned to the woman's side. Dropping to one knee, he placed her arm around his neck and gently picked her up. He was surprised by how little effort it took to carry her. He guessed he had gotten used to dragging around dead weight. Whether it was a walker, its victim or an eight point buck, he didn't come in contact with much living these days.

It took nearly an hour to make his way back to camp and he was feeling the effects of the heat and adrenaline. He called out for someone to get the door to the camper that was serving as makeshift headquarters. Jacqui rushed over letting the two inside. Carefully, he laid down his lifeless package.

Dale, the camp lookout, seeing the commotion climbed down from his post on top. He rushed inside trying to assess the situation. "What happened?"

"I found her in the woods running from a couple of walkers. She fell in a heap and hasn't so much as stirred. All I know is she's breathing."

Dale checked her pulse. It was weak, but there. "It's my guess she's suffering from exhaustion. With this heat that's not a surprise. She's going to need rest. That's really all we can do." He looked to Jacqui. "She can stay here but we'll need to check her for scratches and bites. There's no telling what she may have come in contact with."

Jacqui gave Dale her silent approval. She asked Daryl to go and find an extra set of clean clothes. He nodded and headed out of the camper, Dale following behind him. Left to herself, Jacqui went to get a cloth and bowl of water from the kitchen. She gently wiped the dirt from the woman's face and began removing her soiled and damp clothing.

Shane, having made his way back to camp, stormed into the camper. "What is this I hear about us taking in walker bait? What the hell was Daryl thinking bringing her into camp?"

Jacqui hurried to cover the woman but not before Shane had taken in an eyeful. "You shouldn't be in here" she scolded.

"Well this certainly explains it. I guess we know what head Daryl was thinking with and it certainly wasn't the one on his shoulders."