When I make it outside, Carl is hugging Rick and pulls away. I hear spinners of their conversation as I walk toward them.

"—Trying to figure out what it is—"

"—may be contagious—"

I freeze. What now?

We're already dealing with the virus of the walkers and crap, I forget there's other illnesses to deal with. Great, more things to die from!

Someone walks up behind me and rests a hand on my shoulder. I turn around, it's my older brother.

"Em, you really shouldn't have ran in there." Daryl says seriously, crossing his arms.

I turn away. "More people would be dead if I didn't help." I tell him, starting toward the guard tower as if nothing happened.

"You should've stayed where you were." Daryl follows me. I roll my eyes. "We don't know exactly what killed them; a disease of some sorts. We'll have to consult Hershel. Ember, are you feeling okay? No headaches or coughing up blood...?"

"No, nothing. I'm fine!" I tell him irritatedly. "I don't need a stupid harangue right now, brother." I mutter sourly.

Daryl nods and sighs. "Okay, but if you feel even remotely sick, you immediately tell us."

I nod. "Alright, sure."

Daryl heads over to Rick and they both enter a different cell block—probably to find everyone else in the group to figure out what the hell is going on.

"Ember!" A voice calls from behind me and I whirl around to see Carl. I smile. He stops short in front of me, hesitating before hugging me. I hug back. "Why the hell did you go in there?! Em, you could've died and you still might die because you were exposed to the illness."

I pull away. "Then why did you hug me?" I point out and Carl rolls his eyes. "You're exposed, because of me."

Carl shakes his head. "That's besides the point, Em."

I nod thoughtfully. "Hmm...not really." I frown. "What if you get sick. Patrick got sick...will kids be more likely to get sick from it?"

Carl frowns. "Let's not think about that." He says quickly. "Let's just see what my dad and your brother say."

I take a deep breath. "Yeah, sure—whatever." I mumble, deadpan. Carl raises an eyebrow. "Sorry—just worried. This might be how all of this ends."

Carl takes my hand and leads me back to the prison. "I know girls are supposedly always right, but you're wrong Ember. This isn't how it ends."

"I guess you're right, Morgan Freeman." I tell him. Carl smirks.

"He's a good actor." Carl says and I nod.

"I wonder how the famous people are doing." I think out loud.

Carl chuckles. "Probably hiding in their barricaded mansions." Carl suggests.

I laugh. "Probably going insane over the depleting food source and getting the wendigo psychosis."

"You really like that Urban Legend of wendigos." Carl points out.

"It's very interesting, it's in my favorite video game. I was ten and beat the horror game, not to brag or anything." I say and Carl nudges me.

"How many people did you get killed before winning?" Carl asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Seven out of the eight characters." I say proudly and Carl chuckles. "Hey, I was ten!"

For a moment, we forgot all about the damned problems around us.