Cherokee Rose
The truck rumbled to a stop at the edge of Hershel’s property, tires kicking up dust. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the farmhouse’s porch.
Hershel emerged first, his family close behind. The moment his eyes landed on Kenny and Mark, his face darkened, red creeping up his neck as his jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“I told you to never come back to my farm!” he roared.
Rick stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Hershel—just listen—”
But Hershel wasn’t listening. His voice was sharp, laced with fury as he turned to the rest of the group. “Those two left my son to die!” he shouted.
. All eyes turned to Mark and Kenny, the silence stretching heavy and thick. Dale was the first to speak, his voice quiet. “Is that true?” he asked.
Hershel’s breathing was ragged, his hands shaking as he continued. “It happened at the beginning,” he spat. “Shawn got his leg stuck under a tractor—by Kenny’s son. Then the infected showed up near the fence. Grabbed both of them.”
Kenny swallowed hard, his posture shrinking.
Mark’s face was pale, unreadable.
“They grabbed the boy,” Hershel continued, his voice cracking. “And they let my son be bitten.”
Kenny’s shoulder sagged “I—” He cleared his throat. “I panicked. I wasn’t thinking straight. I—” His voice broke, shame pulling him down.
Hershel’s anger didn’t soften. “Your panic cost me my child!” he snapped.
Carley stepped forward, voice calm but urgent. “Hershel—please—”
“I don’t want them here!” Hershel cut her off.
Rick exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “Just let us stay until Carl’s recovered,” he urged, desperation creeping into his tone.
Hershel stared at him, his breathing heavy, his eyes filled with grief and rage. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, finally, he took a deep breath, exhaling sharply before pinning Kenny and Mark with a cold glare.
“You stay away from my house. My family,” he ordered. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him.
The next day
The group stood around the cars, the county survey map spread out before them. The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of the missing boy pressing heavily on everyone.
“How long has this boy been lost?” Hershel asked, his voice calm but firm.
“This’ll be day three,” Carley replied.
Rick pointed to the map, his finger tracing the lines “This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organized.”
Shane nodded, leaning over the table. “We’ll grid the whole area, start searching in teams,” he suggested.
Hershel’s gaze shifted to Rick, his tone firm. “Not you. Not today,” he said.
Rick frowned, opening his mouth to protest, but Hershel cut him off. “You gave three units of blood. You wouldn’t be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out. And your ankle…” Hershel gestured to Shane’s bandaged leg. “Push it now, you’ll be laid up a month, no good to anybody.”
Rick hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Guess it’s just me,” Daryl said, straightening up. “I’m gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there.”
Rick’s voice was quiet but insistent. “I can still be useful.”
“I’ll drive up to the interstate,” Doug himed in. “See if Travis wandered back.”
Hershel nodded. “All right, tomorrow then. We’ll start doing this right.”
Shane glanced around the room, his expression serious. “That means we can’t have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we’ve been promising them.”
Hershel’s face hardened slightly. “I’d prefer you not carrying guns on my property,” he said. “We’ve managed so far without turning this into an armed camp.”
Shane’s jaw tightened, his tone respectful but firm. “All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here…”
Rick stepped in, his voice calm but authoritative. “Look, we’re guests here,” he said “This is your property, and we will respect that,” he said
But Hershel wasn’t finished. His expression remained firm as he turned his gaze on Rick. “Your group was already pushing it by having Kenny and Mark here,” he said. “I don’t care if it was an accident or not—those two left my son to die. And if either of them goes near my house or my family, they’ll be thrown off the property.”
Rick’s jaw tightened, his instinct to argue rising, but there was no room for negotiation in Hershel’s tone. He exhaled sharply but nodded.
“First things first,” Shane interjected, stepping forward. “Set camp, find Travis.”
There was a pause, thick with unspoken concern, until someone finally spoke up. “I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody’s got to,” the voice said. “What happens if we find him and he’s bit?”
Rick looked up, scanning the faces around him. “I think we should all be clear on how we handle that,” he said.
Shane answered without hesitation. “You do what has to be done.”
Another voice broke the silence. “And Ben? What do you tell him?”
Rick swallowed hard, his voice steady but heavy. “The truth.”
Shane shifted, rolling his shoulders. “I’ll gather and secure all the weapons,” he announced. “Make sure no one’s carrying till we’re at a practice range off-site.”
“I do request one rifleman on lookout,” Rick added.
Shane nodded. “Dale’s got experience,” he said. “Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun.”
Hershel sighed, his expression remaining firm but resigned. “Thank you,” he murmured.
Maggie stepped forward, setting down a small bundle. “That stuff you brought,” she asked, glancing between them, “got more antibiotics, bandages, anything like that? We’re running short already. I should make a run into town,” Maggie said, arms folded as she leaned against the kitchen counter.
Rick glanced up, brows furrowing. “Not the place Shane went?” he asked.
“No,” Maggie confirmed. “There’s a pharmacy just a mile down the road. I’ve done it before.”
Rick nodded, considering. His gaze flickered toward Glenn, who was adjusting his cap, looking half-alert despite his exhaustion. “See our man there in the baseball cap?” Rick said. “That’s Glenn, our go-to-town expert.”
Maggie smirked faintly. “I’d ask him along, just to be cautious.”
Rick exhaled, shaking his head before heading into the bedroom Carl was in, Lori and Harry sitting beside him “I hear he woke up,” he muttered.
Lori nodded. “Yeah. He’s in and out, but yeah.”
“He’ll be all right,” Rick said, the words more like an affirmation to himself than anyone else.
Lori hesitated for a moment, then turned to him. “Did you mean it?” she asked.
Rick frowned slightly. “What?”
“You said stay,” Lori clarified. “Did you mean it?”
Rick shifted his weight, running a hand along his jaw. “Look, if you didn’t, just say so. But do it now. I need to know.”
Rick met her gaze, his voice steady. “I meant it.”
Glenn blinked, caught off guard by the sudden request. “I hear you’re fast on your feet and know how to get in and out,” Maggie said, arms crossed as she studied him. “Got a pharmacy run. You in?”
“Uh…” Glenn hesitated, still processing.
Before he could answer, someone else spoke up. “Miss, what’s the water situation here?”
Maggie turned to them, nodding toward the land beyond the house. “Got five wells on our land,” she explained. “House draws directly from number one. Number-two well is right over there. We use it for the cattle, but it’s just as pure.” She gestured toward the back. “Take what you need. There’s a cart and containers in the generator shed behind the house.”
A brief silence followed before Maggie straightened. “I’ll go saddle your horse then.”
Glenn blinked again, incredulous. “Horse?”
Before they could head to the barn, The group standing around the opening of the well called them over, peering down into the murky depths wherea walker bobbed in the water, its bloated form barely visible beneath the surface. The stench rising from below was enough to make a few of them recoil.
Shane shook his head, arms crossed. “We can’t risk shooting it,” he said. “Bullet goes through, contaminates the water even worse.”
Carley wrinkled her nose, looking between them. “Who would want to drink that after it’s been in there for who knows how long?” she asked, disgust evident in her voice.
Doug began, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We could clean it,” he offered.
Kenny scoffed. “How?”
Doug started listing off solutions. “We’d need pumps, filtration systems, possibly some chemicals to—”
Shane cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “We got it, man,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t need the whole damn science fair rundown.”
Carley exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. “Well, whatever happens, that thing needs to come out alive.”
Glenn blinked, looking between them. “How the hell are we supposed to do that?” he asked.
The group slowly turned toward him in unison, their collective gaze settling on him..
Glenn groaned, rubbing his temples. “Oh, come on.”
He already knew where this was going, and he wasn’t thrilled about it.
Over by the house Rick was walking with Daryl “We got a base,” Rick said, turning to the hunter “We can get this search properly organized now.”
Daryl flicked his eyes toward him, pulling a twig from his mouth before responding. “You got a point, or are we just chatting?”
Rick glanced toward the barn, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “My point is it lets you off the hook,” he said. “You don’t owe us anything.”
Daryl shrugged. “My other plans fell through.”
Herschel walked out of the house as Daryl walked away. He folded his arms, eyes scanning the camp before settling back on Rick.
Rick studied him for a beat, then nodded. “We could give you more space,” he offered. “Set up over by the barn.”
“No need for that, better your group stay close to the house. I don’t say this easily,” Hershel began, voice measured. “We don’t normally take in strangers.”
Rick nodded but said nothing. He already knew where this was going.
“I can’t have your people thinking this is permanent,” Hershel continued. His voice was firm, final. “Once you find this teen and your boy’s fit for travel, I expect you’ll move on.”
Rick swallowed hard, shifting his weight. “We need to be clear on that,” Hershel added.
Rick met his gaze, the exhaustion deep in his bones, but he understood. There wasn’t room for assumptions, not anymore. “We’re clear,” he said.
Glenn stood at the edge of the well, peering down into the dark water where the bloated walker bobbed. The rope around his waist felt tight as Shane secured the knots.
“This is a bad idea,” Glenn muttered.
“You’ll be fine,” Shane said, though not sounding entirely convinced himself.
Glenn took a deep breath, gripping the rope with both hands as Harry and Kenny prepared to lower him down. “Just get me out quick,” he said.
“We got you,” Kenny assured him.
As they slowly lowered Glenn into the well, the walker let out a wet, gurgling groan, its movements sluggish. Glenn tried not to think too hard about what he was stepping into, his boots sliding against the damp walls.
Then his foot slipped.
“Whoa—whoa!” Glenn yelled, gripping the rope as his body jerked sideways.
“Easy!” Harry called from above, tightening his grip on the rope.
“Not helping!” Glenn shouted back, panic creeping into his voice.
Shane steadied the rope, adjusting their hold. “Keep going, Glenn. You’re almost there.”
Glenn swallowed down his unease, steadying himself before reaching out toward the walker. Its bloated form shifted as he tried to loop the rope around its torso.
Then it lunged.
Glenn yelped, scrambling backward. “Not dead enough for my liking!”
“Glenn, focus!” Carley shouted.
He gritted his teeth, maneuvering the rope quickly and securing the knot around the walker’s waist. “It’s tied!” he yelled.
Shane and Kenny wasted no time pulling Glenn up as Doug and Harry worked the winch, hoisting the walker out of the well inch by inch.
Just as they neared the surface, the walker’s bloated skin tore apart under its own weight. A sickening squelch filled the air as its lower half detached completely, splattering into the water below.
“Oh, that’s disgusting,” Carley groaned.
Kenny gagged. “Yeah… that well’s done.”
Glenn dangled mid-air, staring wide-eyed at the grotesque sight beneath him. “Can we please never do that again?”
Shane pulled him the rest of the way up, patting his back roughly as he caught his breath. “Not bad, town expert.”
Glenn shot him a glare. “Next time, find someone else.”
Rick leaned over the map, tracing the routes with his fingers as Hershel pointed out landmarks. “The interstate where you broke down is here,” Hershel said, tapping the spot. “There’s your creek. My farm is here.”
“We’re looking out that way, south-southeast,” Rick said “We missed this branch of the creek entirely. If she went that direction, she’d be miles from where we looked.”
Rick exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. Another gap. Another chance they had overlooked.
Hershel shifted his stance, arms crossed. “Rick, take a moment,” he said.
Rick glanced up, brow furrowing. “What?”
Hershel gestured toward the horizon beyond the porch. “Come look.”
Rick hesitated but stepped away from the map, following Hershel’s gaze.
“That’s something, isn’t it?” Hershel murmured.
Rick remained silent, his eyes scanning the open land, the peacefulness of it in stark contrast to the world beyond its borders.
“It’s good to pause for an occasional reminder,” Hershel continued.
Rick turned slightly. “Of what?”
“Whatever comes to mind,” Hershel said. “For me, it’s often God.”
Rick let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “No thoughts on that?” Hershel asked.
Rick’s jaw tightened. “Last time I asked God for a favor and stopped to admire a view, my son got shot,” he said. “I try not to mix it up with the almighty anymore. Best we stay out of each other’s way.”
Hershel studied him for a long moment. “Lori told me your story,” he said. “How you were shot, the coma. Yet you came out of it somehow.”
Rick didn’t respond.
“You did not feel God’s hand in yours?” Hershel pressed.
Rick’s lips parted slightly, but his voice was flat. “At that moment?” He shook his head. “No, I did not.”
Hershel sighed, looking back out at the land. “In all the chaos, you found your wife and boys,” he said. “Then your youngest was shot, and he survived.”
Rick’s expression didn’t change.
“That tells you nothing?” Hershel asked.
Rick let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “It tells me God’s got a strange sense of humor,” he muttered.
Shane stood at the edge of the makeshift shooting range, his boots kicking up dust as he paced back and forth in front of the group. Harry stood among them, his bow slung over his shoulder, watching Shane.
“Paper targets,” Shane began, his voice sharp “are one thing. Easy to hit what ain’t moving.”
He stopped, turning to face them. “But taking down an assailant—one that’s trying to kill you—that’s different.”
The group shifted uncomfortably.
“They say in that kind of situation, things slow down,” Shane continued, his tone dripping with disdain. “That’s crap. They speed up. Adrenaline? Ha. It’ll cripple you if you let it.”
He paused, letting the silence stretch before speaking again. “You need to use your instinct. You gotta rule it out. Because somebody is going to die, and you’d better hope that you’re the one who’s making that decision.”
Andrea frowned. “How?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “I mean, how do you do that?”
Shane stopped pacing, his gaze locking onto her “Turn off a switch,” he said simply. “The switch. The one that makes you scared or angry, sympathetic, whatever. You don’t think. You just… you act.”
He gestured toward the group, his voice growing more intense. “’Cause odds are, somebody else is counting on you. That’s your partner. That’s your friend.”
Shane’s tone softened slightly “There ain’t nothing easy about taking a man’s life, no matter how little value it may have. But when you get it done…” He paused, his gaze sweeping over them. “You have to forget it.”
Town
Glenn and Maggie pulled up to the edge of town, the quiet streets stretching out before them. The pharmacy loomed ahead, its faded sign barely visible in the dim light. Glenn stepped out of the vehicle, scanning the area cautiously.
“It’s a good spot,” Maggie said
Glenn nodded. “It’ll do.”
He adjusted his cap, glancing at her. “You know, normally this is the kind of thing I’d do on my own. Solo.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s sort of my thing, you know? I’m a loner.”
Maggie smirked faintly, her eyes flickering toward him. “You all right?” Glenn asked.
“I’m fine,” Maggie replied quickly, though her tone betrayed a hint of unease.
Glenn tilted his head, studying her. “I saw the look on your face back at the well,” he said. “Never seen one killed up close before?”
Maggie hesitated, then shrugged. “Guess it’s kind of a shock.”
Glenn nodded knowingly. “You know, being out on the road, we’ve seen a lot. Guess we’ve gotten a little numb to it.”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Whoa. I guess so.”
Glenn gestured toward the pharmacy. “I’ll go see what antibiotics are left. What else is on the list?”
Glenn fumbled with his pockets, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “Uh…”
Maggie smirked. “Why don’t you get started?” she suggested.
“What about you?” Glenn asked.
“I’m gonna look around, see what’s worth grabbing,” Maggie replied casually. “Just some general stuff.”
Glenn narrowed his eyes slightly. “What do you got?”
Maggie hesitated, then shrugged. “Uh… um… Nothing. Just, like I said, general stuff.”
Glenn’s eyes widened as Maggie pulled a box of condoms off the shelf, holding it up with a teasing grin. “Condoms?” she asked.
Glenn’s face turned bright red. “You got a girlfriend I don’t know about?” Maggie teased.
“Me? No. No,” Glenn stammered, his voice cracking slightly.
Maggie chuckled, shaking her head. “Then you’re a pretty confident guy,” she said.
“No.”
“No, no no. I-I-I wasn’t…” Glenn stammered
“Something wrong with me?” Maggie asked, putting her hand on her hip
“No, no I… I’m lost.”
“I’ll have sex with you.”
“Really? Why?”
“Not a lot of options left these days, and you’re not the only one who’s lonely.”
Farm
Rick walked towards Hershel. “You need to reconsider,” he said.
Hershel narrowed his eyes slightly. “I beg your pardon?”
“Asking us to leave,” Rick clarified. “You need to reconsider.”
Hershel crossed his arms, the weight of the conversation settling in. “If you saw how it is out there, you wouldn’t ask,” Rick continued. “You’re a man of belief. If you believe anything, believe that.”
Hershel sighed, looking away for a moment. “You’re putting me on the spot,” he muttered.
Rick nodded. “Well, I mean to,” he admitted. “Those people look to me for answers. I wish they didn’t, but they do.” He exhaled, his shoulders tense. “But I’m not asking for them or myself. I’m asking for my boy.”
Hershel studied Rick carefully, weighing his words. “You’re a plainspoken man,” he finally said.
Rick’s lips pressed together. “I’m a father,” he corrected. “My boys are the things I don’t want to fail.” He paused, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him. “I feel like I do every day. I lied to Carl this morning,” he admitted. “It wasn’t a big lie, but it was enough,”
Hershel spoke up, his gaze distant. “My father didn’t bother with comforting lies. He used his fist.” His jaw tightened. “He was a loveless, violent drunk and no good to anybody.”
Rick remained silent, letting Hershel speak.
“He drove me from home when I was fifteen,” Hershel said. “Didn’t lay eyes on this place again for many years.”
“I was not at his deathbed, Rick,” Hershel continued. “I would not grant him that, and to this day, I do not regret it.” He turned to Rick, voice firm. “Some men do not earn the love of their sons.”
Rick swallowed, gripping the edge of the table.
Hershel exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t see you having that problem.”
The words settled between them. Rick didn’t answer, but Hershel didn’t expect him to.
“Will you consider my request?” Rick asked.
Herschel hesitated before speaking, his voice measured. “There are aspects to this, things that I can’t and won’t discuss,” he admitted. “But if you and your people respect my rules, no promises… but I will consider it.”
Rick nodded “You have my word.”
“You have mine.”
Lori sat beside Carl’s bed, her fingers smoothing the blanket over his legs. The quiet sounds of Carl’s breathing and the occasional creak of the old farmhouse the only noise
Rick stepped into the room, “Hey,” he murmured.
Lori glanced up at him, offering a small smile. “Harry was in here earlier,” she said. “Brought Carl some of those comics they both like.”
Rick exhaled softly, nodding as he sat down beside her. “Yeah?”
“They had their usual banter,” Lori continued, shaking her head fondly. “Harry was telling Carl Green Lantern was better than Batman.”
Rick huffed a quiet chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “Carl didn’t take that well, I bet.”
Lori’s smile grew. “Nope.”
Rick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at Carl. His son looked so small in that bed, too fragile, too pale.
“I’ll sit with him,” Rick said after a moment.
Lori nodded, watching Rick carefully. “He was awake earlier when you were gone,” she admitted. “Asked for you.”
Rick’s throat tightened, guilt settling deeper in his chest. He reached for Carl’s hand, squeezing it gently.
“I’m here now,” he murmured, as much to himself as to his son.
Daryl walked a few paces ahead, his crossbow slung over his shoulder as Sophia and Carol followed, taking in the quiet stretch of farmland around them. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the fields.
“You like the farm?” Daryl asked, glancing over at Sophia.
She nodded, kicking a small rock along the path. “It’s nice,” she said. “I feel safe here.”
Daryl hummed in response, his gaze flickering ahead. As they walked, Sophia suddenly stopped, crouching down beside a delicate white flower nestled near the fence line. “It’s pretty,” she said, reaching out tentatively.
Daryl stepped closer, eyeing the flower with a knowing look. “That’s a Cherokee Rose,” he said.
Sophia looked up at him. “Cherokee Rose?” she echoed.
Daryl nodded, shifting his weight. “Story goes, back when the Trail of Tears happened, a lot of mothers lost their kids on the way,” he explained. “They cried so much, the elders prayed for a sign that their children were at peace. Next day, these flowers started growing where the tears fell.”
Sophia’s eyes widened slightly as she looked back down at the flower. “Can I keep it?” she asked.
Carol smiled gently. “Of course,” she said.
Sophia carefully plucked the flower, holding it between her fingers before darting off toward the house. “I want to show Clementine!” she called over her shoulder.
Daryl watched her go, then turned back to Carol, who stood still, arms wrapped around herself. She exhaled quietly. “I can’t help but wonder,” she murmured. “If we would have found her if it had been her and not Travis chased into the woods…”
Daryl didn’t say anything at first, but he understood what she meant.
Carol shook her head, pushing the thought away. “She’s here now,” she said, more to herself than him.
Daryl glanced at Carol as they walked, the farm stretching out in quiet around them. “We’ll find Travis,” he said, his voice steady. “Ain’t lettin’ this go.”
Carol sighed, rubbing her arms as she nodded. “I hope so,” she murmured.
Daryl studied her for a beat before speaking again. “You got close to him. And Ben. After Ed died.”
Carol’s smile was faint, tinged with something unreadable. “I always wanted more kids,” she admitted. “But Ed… he refused.” Her expression darkened for a moment before she shook her head. “Ben needs someone to watch over him now. He’s strong, but he still needs guidance.”
Daryl nodded, understanding in his own quiet way. “You’re doin’ good by him,” he said.
Carol looked at him, eyes soft. “Thank you.”
Carl stirred in the bed, blinking sluggishly as the room slowly came into focus. Rick leaned forward, his hand gripping his son’s gently.
“You look tired,” Rick said, his voice low.
Carl let out a small chuckle. “I am tired,” he admitted.
Rick smiled, rubbing his thumb across Carl’s knuckles. “Hey, I’m like you now,” Carl said, glancing up at him with a weak smirk. “We’ve both been shot.”
Rick chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Yeah,” he said. “I think your mother would rather hear we got the same eyes.”
Carl huffed a tired laugh. “So let’s keep that between us.”
Rick nodded, his smile softening. “Since you’re in the club now, you get to wear the hat,” he said. “Didn’t you know? We’ll pad the rim tomorrow so it sits better.”
Carl hesitated. “Won’t you miss it?”
Rick let out a quiet sigh, then smirked. “Maybe you’ll let me borrow it from time to time.”
Carl smiled faintly. “We can share it.”
Rick smirked, shaking his head as he adjusted his seat beside Carl’s bed. “I heard Harry told you Green Lantern was better than Batman,” he said, amusement lacing his voice.
Carl scoffed, eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion but firm in his stance. “Harry’s crazy to think that,” he muttered.
Rick chuckled. “Yeah?”
Carl shifted slightly, the faintest hint of a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Batman is clearly better.”
Rick leaned back, crossing his arms. “I don’t know,” he teased. “Green Lantern’s got a power ring. That’s tough to beat.”
Carl groaned, rolling his eyes. “Batman doesn’t need superpowers. He’s just better.”
Rick smiled, watching his son settle deeper into the blankets. “Well,” he said softly, “can’t argue with that.”
“Okay.” He squeezed Carl’s hand gently. “Sleep now.”
Carl’s eyelids drooped. “Okay,” he murmured.
Rick stayed close, his gaze softening further. “I love you, son.”
Carl’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you, dad.”