* * *
Something yanked at Glenn’s wrist, a rough grip on the scar he was so very fond of. His eyelids rose enough to see a dark hand with a cotton wristband pulling him up. His body landed on something soft. Glenn looked up, trying to discern the visage when the voice made his savior all too clear. Geroge climbed back into the driver’s seat, next to Cris who held and was stroking the hair of a busted-up Kody. His senses slowly coming around, Glenn realized he was lying on Alma’s lap. She kept her eyes on the ground, silent.