CHAPTER ELEVEN
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SHE DIDN'T know Otis, not at all. She hadn't even met him in her brief time at the farm. But watching all of his family and close friends mourn and cry over him was an experience she felt completely removed from. She was snapped out of any sort of reverie that she was trapped in when she heard the roar of a motorcycle in the distance.

Glancing up from her spot on the front steps of the house, she stood up as everyone gathered around her to greet the others from the highway. Daryl pulled up first on his bike, followed by Carol and Dale in the RV.

"How is he?" Dale asked blankly, gazing between Rick and Lori in concern.

"He'll pull through," Lori answered, nodding furiously looking as though she was about to cry again. Arden swore nearly every time she had seen Lori since she arrived she was practically on the verge of tears. "Thanks to Hershel and his people, and —"

"And Shane," Rick finished, shooting his friend a thankful glance. "We'd have lost Carl if it wasn't for him." Arden trained her glance on Shane a few moments extra — he didn't appear as relieved as all of the others appeared to be.

Dale stumbled forward and pulled Rick into a hug. The others who had newly arrived followed suit with other members of the group and Arden looked at her feet briefly. This is exactly what she had been talking to Glenn about, but this time she chose to ignore it.

Later that day was Otis' funeral and Arden didn't have much to contribute. She stood next to Daryl and they both stared at the ground, trying to respect what was going on, but neither one to show extreme outward emotion — especially to someone they had never known. Shane gave a graphic description of his final moments that made Arden almost want to throw up.

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The next day, she was standing in front of Rick and a map, waiting for his answer to her insistence that she be part of the search party for Sophia. She had to be useful somehow, and this is how she planned on doing it.

"Are you sure?" he questioned her, giving her an unsure glance to match his tone.

"Yes, I'm sure. I just want to help and I can handle myself around a gun," she told him concisely. "Rick, please."

He considered her a moment before grabbing one of the guns off of the top of the truck the map was laying on, handing it to her. He beckoned her over to the map and pointed at one of the squares that they had gridded on the paper. "I only want you looking in this area, got it?"

"Got it," she confirmed, mentally creating a route from where they were to her designated area.

"And I don't care what you find, be back by sundown. If I'm sendin' you out by yourself, I can't risk you out there alone at night."

Arden nodded and started to walk away. "I'll be back by then, I promise."

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     By the time she had finally made it to just about where her search area was supposed to be, she felt like half the day was already gone. The Georgia heat was beating down upon her skin insistently, but she pushed on in search of any sign that a little girl had been through the area.

     Hours into the excursion, it was all starting to feel a little hopeless. Of course she wanted Sophia to be okay and just be a complete miracle before their eyes, but part of her knew that was becoming further and further away with each day that passed.

     "Sophia!" she called out, trying to be loud enough to where if she was anywhere close she'd be able to hear it for sure. Walking further up an incline, she shouted again, "Sophia!"

     Instead of an alive, healthy little girl she was met with complete silence. That was one of the worst sounds she could have hoped for. What she heard after that came next on that list.

     A guttural groan sounded directly behind her and she couldn't help but let out a scream of surprise. In an instant, she felt like she was back at the road where she had first killed a walker. Scrambling backward, she tripped over herself and the thing in front of her grabbed her by the ankle.

     Falling onto her back, she let out a hard breath as she tried to collect herself. The walker had an iron grip, something you would never really expect from something so dead and hollow.

     It was trying to do anything to survive, so she had to do the same. She readied her gun as her ankle throbbed in pain and she shot, hoping that she had landed somewhere fatal. The adrenaline made everything go a hundred times faster than it was happening.

     The walker was still moving and she was still trying to tear her leg away with everything she had. She shot again, this time in the chest, but it still wouldn't budge. It was her third shot that was finally in the head and the creature slumped over, defeated.

     The only thing she could hear was the sound of her own heavy, shaky breathing. Moving backward she could see that her ankle now had a huge bruise around it and moving it caused her slight pain when she tried to move it. She was no help to Sophia like this.

     Standing up, she winced slightly, figuring she must have rolled on it before she fell and the walker grabbed hold of her. The grip was no helper, either.

     Hobbling her way back toward the farm, she looked up beyond the trees to see that the sun was just now setting. This looked even worse for her — she promised Rick that she would be back, and here she was, late and in worse shape than when she had started. And no Sophia.

     When she finally reached the outer fence, the sun had almost set completely and everyone was going about a nightly routine. They had their own camp set up away from Hershel's house. Limping over to a nearby log, she sighed as the exhaustion finally hit her.

     "Hey, Arden!" She turned her head slightly at the sudden noise and saw Glenn walking up to her perfectly cheerful. "You missed dinner."

     She smiled tiredly as he sat down next to her and handed her a plate. "There's that smile." As she began to eat, he simply just talked. "Where were you all day?"

     "I convinced Rick to let me help look for Sophia," she answered in between bites. She gestured to her leg. "My mistake."

     Glenn's eyes widened a fraction at the sight of her injury. "Do you need help? I can go get someone from the house I can go get Maggie are you okay did you get bitten —"

     "Glenn, I'm okay. I'll just be a little off on my foot for a day or two," she assured. "Thank you for caring, I—"

     She paused and thought. "I really appreciate your friendship."

     She finished up her plate and set it to the side, knowing that it was a lost cause to try and get up and return it. "I think I might turn in for tonight, it was a...taxing day."

     "Of course," Glenn rushed out, stumbling up from his spot next to her. His features molded in confusion when he saw that she was making herself comfortable right there. "What are you doing?"

     "Oh, I don't have a tent. I really don't want to bother anyone," she replied simply, preparing to sleep on the ground just as she had the night before. If the way the world was now wasn't upsetting enough, she didn't want someone to be stuck with an unwanted roommate.

     "Arden, you can sleep in my tent," he offered immediately, pausing once he realized how that sounded. "I mean — not like that not that you're not I mean for somewhere to stay that's not the ground. I used to share with Jim, he's not with us anymore so I thought —"

     She smiled up at him again and laughed lightly. "Well, if you're going to get this worked up about it," she replied, leaning heavily on the log next to her and standing up with a little bit of effort.

     He stepped over to help her steady herself and he smiled back at her. "I'm not worked up, just trying to help," he said, a bit less frazzled than he had been a few moments previously.

     When they arrived at the tent there was indeed an empty space where someone would be able to fit and a sleeping bag rolled up in the corner.

     "I'm about to sleep in a dead man's sleeping bag, aren't I?" she asked, knowing that 'not with us' didn't likely mean that he had just left the group.

     Glenn paused as he rolled out the bag for a moment before he finished and helped her sit down. He looked almost guilty now. "It's okay. That's just how it is now," she affirmed, more for herself than anyone.

     Leaning into the sleeping bag, she muttered, "Goodnight, Glenn," before drifting off into a fitful sleep.