Here are some things I yelled while watching “Beside The Dying Fire”:
“If Andrea’s dead, I’m done with this show! DONE!”
“Really, Lori? You’ve been egging Rick on to commit violence against Shane for weeks. And now, NOW, you’re all upset that Rick acted? WTF?”
I should have been in bed by the time we were watching The Walking Dead on Sunday night. Early morning, PSSA testing, and a day filled with the promise of running ragged (I can’t even remember everything I did now, but the body aches and exhaustion tell me it was quite a lot).
But, I stayed up for that. one. reason.
She didn’t speak or show her face, but there she was with her sword and her hood and her armless, jawless walkers in tow. Totally worth the yawns on Monday morning.
One thing I noted from the farm being overrun (that’s a gap in my Walking Dead reading – that volume was borrowed by a neighbor in another state and never returned, so I don’t know if this is actually how it played out) is just how quickly everyone in the group switched to pure survival mode, abandoning the others. Yes, it was hopeless and they did wind up together, but now they know. They know just how tenuous their bonds are to one another and that, when push comes to shove, they’re each on their own.
I imagine no one knows that better than Andrea right now.
I’ve always been a big Andrea fan in the comics and she’s been my favorite character on the show, but damn. She proved just how badass and awesome she is: perfect head shots, saving Carol, running from the herd from before sunrise to sometimes after sundown, steadily taking out any walkers who got too close.
Go ahead, Lori. Call that working on her suntan. I dare you.
The Walking Dead season two was a mixed bag overall, but ended strongly with the group irrevocably changed and life at the prison – and the threat of The Governor – looming ahead.