Prologue

The Georgia sun was blazing hot, but that was nothing new. The distant growls and haphazard footfalls of walkers wasn't new, either. What was new was the sight of the formerly overrun prison grounds cleared out and inhabited by regular, living people. Livy Harrison had just begun to smile at the sight when a shot rang out. The impact of the bullet sent her twisting in a half circle before falling to the ground.

"Fuck. That person was alive, Glenn!" Daryl Dixon yelled up to a guard tower where the young Korean was perched. Slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, he followed it up with a 'cover me' as he ran through the double layered prison gates. It didn't take Daryl long to reach her, and when he did, even the usually stern hunter had to smile.

"You are one lucky broad, ya know that?" The unconscious girl at his feet was wearing police Kevlar. At worst, she'd end up with some cracked ribs, which Hershel could easily tape up. Daryl easily scooped her up into his arms before moving low and fast towards the gates where Rick and Carl waited to help him in.

"Is she dead? Did Glenn...?" Rick asked, moving in quick tandem with his son to get Daryl inside safely. "Nah, man, look. She has a police vest." Daryl straightened for Rick to see. The girl was still out, but she was breathing. It was a little shaky, but she was more than alive. Rick looked down at the girl, taking in the color still staining her freckled cheeks. She looked around Maggie's age.

"Take her to Hershel. We can question her once she wakes up." Around that time, Glenn came running up to them. His face was terribly worried as he looked into Daryl's, but when he shook his head Glenn smiled and laughed with relief. "Oh, man. I really thought she was a walker with the way she was stumbling around out there. Oh, man. I could have killed her."

By this time, the whole group had gathered outside, curious about the commotion out front. Carol was handing the baby off to Beth while Maggie made her way to Glenn. Hershel stood carefully balanced on his crutches, and Michonne lingered in the back. She still didn't feel entirely a part of the group, especially with her only true connection being holed up in Woodbury. She would never understand why Andrea chose to stay there.

"I reckon Glenn figured she was a walker, or a Woodbury spy. Can't blame him for taking the shot either way," Daryl said to Hershel as he helped the old man and Carol undo the velcro straps of the vest. It hadn't been but a few weeks since they had saved Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury and Daryl had nearly died with his brother. But now Merle was down in the basement. He was safe. Not happy, but safe, and that's all that mattered to Daryl. When Carol lifted the girl's shirt to reveal a lacy blue bra, Daryl excused himself to talk to his brother.

Just because she hadn't come heavily armed didn't mean the girl hadn't been a part of Woodbury. If she was, though, chances were that Merle would recognize her. "Well well well. If it ain't my baby brother. To what do I owe this occasion?"

Daryl rolled his eyes. "If you'd be good, you could come outta here and hang out with me all day. Like old times." Flipping a chair so that it faced his brother, Daryl straddled it and rested his arms on its back. "A girl came up to the prison today. Looked about Maggie and Glenn's age, so early twenties. She got black curly hair in a braid and more freckles than anyone could count. Sound familiar at all? Know anyone like that from Woodbury?"

Merle chewed on a toothpick in a show of mock contemplativeness. He looked his brother up and down, thinking he needed a hair cut like nobody's business. His little brother had gone from lone wolf to sheriff's pet. But he was still Daryl and Merle still loved him. "What makes you think she was from Woodbury?" Merle asked around his toothpick.

"She was wearin' a police vest when she walked up. There was a gun in her holster and a knife strapped to her leg, but she was alone. I don't know. We just have to be careful. Looked to me like a girl who'd lost her group, but Rick won't want to take any chances. I thought maybe if you could help us out and say if she's Woodbury or not Rick might trust you a little more."

At that, Merle smirked at his brother. "Well, I reckon. You gonna just waltz me in to identify her and then we'll all be friends and hold hands? What even happened to her? Y'all take her captive?" Daryl rolled his eyes.

"No, Glenn shot her on accident. Thought she was a walker. She was stumblin' around, looked real weak to me. Either way, I'm tryin' to help you, so shut your trap and c'mon." The sound of the cell door unlocking sounded like temporary freedom to Merle, but he'd take anything over spending all day down there by himself again. He was getting cabin fever from it. Even if all the faces except one hated him, it would be good to have a change of scenery.

Hershel did not look pleased to see Merle out of his cell, but he kept his opinions to himself. As did Carol, for which Daryl was thankful. He wasn't keen on pissing off his friend. They had already finished taping up her ribs, but she was still out. Daryl re-evaluated the description he had given his brother and figured he should have added in the funny crooked scar on the girl's forehead. It was thin and silvery, but very long. It reminded him of his own scar from the time Andrea's bullet had grazed his head.

"Well, does she look familiar, brother?" Merle shook his head. "I can honestly say I ain't ever seen her. Unless Woodbury got a new wave of population after I left, there ain't no way she can be one of 'em." Hershel looked up at Daryl, who shrugged.

"Guess we'll go let Rick know. Y'all just watch her until she wakes up I suppose."