With each step Connie took into the forest, she felt a strange kind of emptiness take over to her, like it was now the only thing keeping her moving. The best way to describe it was autopilot. Now that she was at the front of the group, just behind Daryl with one hand gripping the straps of her backpack while the other used her weapon as a walking stick, it felt as if she was staring at the world through a blurred screen.

As if something was separating her from surviving in the world as it was now, and that thing was her daughter.

She could remember when Holly was born, and had weighed just over 5 pounds. Holly had been curious, even as an infant; from the moment she had first opened her little doe brown eyes, she'd watched her surroundings with a fascinating curiosity. She'd giggled and squealed when she thought something was funny, and had been a little menace for the first year and a half of her life when it came to sleeping through the night.

But even when she was out of her mind at the age of 25, all but begging her child to sleep so that she could, Connie was certain that she had never loved anything more than those squishy little cheeks and toothless grins and never would. Holly was always going to be the one thing she was sure of in her life, no matter what.

Completely caught up in her thoughts, Connie hadn't realized Daryl had stopped walking until she nearly slammed into him, but was quickly drawn back by a concerned looking Rick. She knew that even with what she'd told him, he blamed himself for what happened to Sophia and Holly, so she forced a smiled to him and mimicked Daryl's crouched stance as she tried to see what he'd found.

Nearly hidden amongst the thick green brush and twisting, overgrown vines, she was just able to make out a campsite.

Her heart lurched.

She knew that no sane person would be camping so close to the highway after everything that had happened, so this was likely from the first night the world fell apart. Meaning, whoever inhabited it was likely dead.

With the options of suck it up or drop to the floor and cry, Connie steeled herself by tightly grasping her lacrosse stick and she knelt down between Daryl and Rick, Carol behind her.

"They could be in there," she heard Shane say from behind her, and she closed her eyes.

"Could be a whole bunch of things in there," was Daryl's response. Him, Rick and Shane crept forwards, guns and crossbow held up with readiness.

When Connie rose to follow the three men, Rick shook his head and held out a hand that clearly said stay. She needed to be doing something, so she settled for holding Carol tightly to her.

Daryl crept around the tent looking for any sign of what could be inside, her heart lurching when he shook his head; no idea.

That was when Rick waved them forward. They kept a tight grasp on each other's hand as they moved soundlessly down the path to stand with him and Shane, Connie tensing and loosening her fingers around her stick. "Call out softly," he told them both. "If they're in there, yours are the first voices they should hear."

Carol nodded weakly. "Sophia, sweetie, are you in there? Sophia, it's mommy. Sophia. We're all here, baby. It's mommy."

"Come on out, Holly berry," Connie called out gently, forcing her voice to stay firm. She focuses on Daryl, who was crouched at the tent flap with a knife raised, just in case it wasn't their little girls. "You've had a long night, baby, and I think it's time you come get some rest, okay?"

When they didn't get an answer, the two crept forwards to Daryl as he slowly began unzipping the flap. The moment it was open she watched his head jerk back as if some kind of bad smell had hit him, and she immediately knew what it was.

There was only one smell that could really count as bad anymore.

Decomposition.

She wasn't sure if she was terrified or relieved as Daryl ducked back out of the tent, a gun stuffed into the back of his belt. "It ain't them," he sighed

Andrea stepped forward, her hand settling briefly on connie's arm. "What's in there?"

"Some guy," he shrugged. "Did what Jenner said. Opted out. Ain't that what he called it?"

Before anyone had the chance to respond, the soundless air was flooded with the faint ringing of bells; church bells. Almost immediately, Connie turned to look at Carol with hope.

Then they were running.

Drying leaves crunched under her boots with each step she took, and she couldn't bring herself to care about the branches that scratched at all the available skin on her when she hit them. Everything in her was screaming to take a break; begging to stop and breathe for even a moment but she hardly settled on the thought.

All she could think of was Holly and Sophia, crying while trying to ring the bells because they were scared.

She only stopped when Glenn yanked her back because they were all taking a moment to think. "What direction?" Rick demanded.

"I think that way," Shane was panting. "I'm pretty sure. Damn, it's hard to tell out here."

"If we heard them, maybe Sophia and Holly did too," Carol murmured hopefully.

"Someone's ringing those bells, maybe calling others," Glenn heaved out.

"Or signaling they found her," Andrea agreed.

"She could be ringing them herself," Connie forced out, clenched hands trembling at her sides.

Eventually their careful maneuvering through the forest led them to a church surrounded by a cemetery, graves all varying in ages acting like the buildings garden. It looked peaceful out there. Undisturbed.

"That can't be it," Shane shook his head. "Got no steeple, no bells."

But Rick was already running ahead so he joined then, Connie, Daryl and Glenn close behind. They rounded the church until they were at the front door and then slowly moved up the front steps. Daryl and Rick each stood on either sides of the door as Shane moved up behind them as backup, and Connie followed close behind.

"You wait here," Rick told her gently.

She stared up at him, dead eyes and face a mask of brutally hidden rage. "Like hell I will. Now get moving, my kid might be in there."

While Daryl didn't seem to have any problem with it, the other two shared at each other for a moment before slowly nodding and she rolled her eyes.

Men.

Very slowly, Rick nudged the door open on its squeaky hinges and she was met with the sight of just three walkers. Two men and a women, all seeming to be dressed in Sunday were she'd seen on many people living in farms on TV shows before the world collapsed in on itself.

All we're facing the figure of Jesus on the cross positioned at the front of the church, but turned to them growling at the sound of the doors.

Immediately, Connie shoved Shane out of the way because she knew his gun would be unnecessarily loud and swung her stick down at the neck of the man closest to her to stop him from standing. He stumbled back with a lose grumble and it only took another few hits to send his unmoving body to the ground.

As she took a look around and couldn't find a glimpse of straight blonde or curly black hair, she found herself swinging down on it again and again until it's blood was splattering her clothes. She knew the hands that pulled the stick away from her were Glenn's, and she pressed her forehead into his shoulder to compose herself.

Rick was screaming for the girls, opening doors and running his voice raw. From ahead of her she was able to head Daryl mutter yo J.C., you takin requests and found herself smiling faintly at it.

Then the bells began ringing again, and she was yanking her stick from Glenn and barreling out the door with the rest of the group she hasn't realized was standing with them. The rounded the corner towards the sound and she felt her heart stop briefly at the sight of a microphone hooked up to a small mechanical box. Glenn left her side to flip a switch, and the sounds stopped.

"Timer," Daryl panted while gesturing to the box. "It was on a timer."

"I'm gonna go back in there for a bit," Carol choked out.

She glanced over at Connie who could only shake her head. "I can't," she whispered shakily. "I'm sorry but I can't."

From there they all separated into their own groups, all staying on the property but taking a moment to recollect themselves.

With her newfound silence, Connie slowly trudged through the yellowed dying grass and stopped at one of the taller grave stones that gave off the slightest bit of shade. She knelt down and read the name AGNES HAYES off the front, and grimaced to think about whether this woman was writhing in her grave after being dead for over 60 years.

But she settled her back against it regardless and closed her eyes, relishing the cool stone against her blistering skin. She could hear the rest of the group talking quietly amongst themselves, all crowded in the shade of a tree, but she couldn't bring herself to join them.

"Y'all are gonna follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you're in charge," Shane instructed them all firmly. "Me 'n Rick, we're just gonna hang back, search this area another hour or so just to be thorough."

"You're splittin' us up?" Daryl questioned. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Rick sighed out. "We'll catch up to you."

"I wanna stay too," Carl cut in to the silence and even through the exhaustion, Connie could feel every piece of her body begging no, not him too. "I'm their friend, I should...I wanna stay too."

As everyone rose to their feet, she simply stayed where she was leaned against the grave.

It would be easy to stop right where she was, to give up and lay down in the bitter knowledge that she couldn't protect her daughter from the most terrifying monsters anyone had ever seen. That she's failed as a mother, wife, and all around person as she couldn't contribute to anything helpful anymore.

Her body ached, her face was still sore from Ed's beating just mere days ago, and the skin on her knuckles had split from sheer dehydration. She'd given Holly the majority of her water rations.

"Connie," she heard Lori call faintly, and she simply opened her eyes.

Even that took too much effort.

The woman was knelt down in front of her, focus shifting from herself to the retreating figure of her husband, son, and Shane. "You've gotta get up," Lori murmured to her, hands gentle in hers.

"She's dead, Lor," Connie forced herself to say, closing her eyes to keep from crying. "No point in being alone, I failed her. I can't live with that."

"You did everything you could," Lori promised firmly. "And you don't get to quit. Not unless we find a body because until we do, she's still living, understood?"

Her bottom lip trembled and she squeezed her friends hands tightly, breathing uneasy. But she knew she was right, and stood up.