Old Eddie didn't recognize New Eddie. Part of him felt guilty at being a pushover for all those years. Part of him was terrified at what he was now capable of doing.

The toe of Eddie's sock was brownish-red with old and new blood. It was one hell of a blister after all. Converse All-stars probably weren't factory tested for surviving a zombie invasion.

"I gotta find some new shoes." Eddie muttered to himself, pressing on his bloody big toe with forefinger and thumb. Ben walked a few feet past him and then turned.

"Can I go take a look around the corner, Eddie?"

"Sure thing. Just don't go too far."

"I won't."

When Ben was gone, Eddie looked up at Will while he re-laced his sneaker. There again was the scared, complacent attitude of this man that angered Eddie; his weakness shameful…but was that really it?

Will said, "So…are we headed for a safe place, um… Eddie?"

Eddie ignored the question. With Ben out of earshot, Eddie took the guilty pleasure of venting his anger and pursued his own line of questioning. "So you just left her there to die, huh?"

"What?"

"My friend. My fucking FRIEND. Did you even try to help her? It doesn't sound to me like you did."

"I-I couldn't. She--"

"She gave you my fucking gun. Why didn't you use it to help her?"