~Rick~

While Daryl watches the door, the others start to make weapons with anything they can find. We've been in here for an hour, and we haven't seen any movement since the Termites threw us in the train car. We're all in here, except for Carol, Tyreese, Judith, and Beth. All the others are dead, we think. But we've gained three new members. Ginger, Rock of Ages, and Annie Oakley in the shorty-shorts, as Clary called them before we knew their names. In reality, their names are Abraham, Eugene, and Rosita. As it turns out, Eugene is a scientist, and Abraham is hell bent on getting him to Washington.

"We got four of them pricks coming our way," Daryl warns, stepping back from the door. I slide a stake of wood down my boot, hiding the extra weapon. The others hide theirs for the moment, but we're ready to fight.

"Y'all know what to do," I say, starting towards the door. "Go for their eyes first. Then their throats."

We stand in a fighting stance, all watching the door. I look around, watching as they ready their weapons for a fight, Clary flipping out her switchblade. "Get ready," she mutters.

"Put your backs to the wall at either side of the car now," one of the men call. We look up as we hear footsteps on the roof, and a hatch opens, letting sunlight stream in. A small round object is tossed in, and we all look down at it for a second. "Move!" Abraham shouts.

We all dive away as the smoke grenade goes off. It blocks our vision, smoke filling our lungs. A hand grabs my arm, pulling me out of the train car. I try to fight back, and so do the others that are dragged out, but we're still under the effects of the smoke. I'm half out of it as my hands are tied together, and dragged along. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daryl, Glenn, and Bob being dragged with me.

We're taken into a building, a saw whirring as two men stand over a body. I'm pushed to my knees in front of a trough, the others beside me and four others from another car. Daryl fights even harder than I was as they push him to his knees, struggling to get free. At the very end, the farthest away from me, I see the same blonde hair boy that I ran into with Carol and Clary. Sam, I think his name was. He stares down at me, pleading for help. I look away from him as I hear the sound of knives being sharpened, turning to see one of the two butchers sharpening a long knife. "All right," he says, starting down towards the other end of the trough.

The bald butcher swings a metal baseball bat, knocking Sam unconscious. The other lifts his head, slicing his neck, before dropping his back down. Blood spurts from his sliced esophagus as the men from his car all start screaming, the gags over their mouths muffling it. They kill the next two in quick succession, pausing a moment before killing the fourth. I reach down, pulling the stake out of my boot as they slice the neck of the third. I grip it in my hand, getting ready to attack as they let the third man drop. I lower my hand as the leader, Gareth, comes in, a notebook in his hand. "Hey, guys," he says, announcing his presence. "What were your shot counts?"

"Thirty-eight," the bald one answers, swinging his bat and knocking the fourth man from the other car unconscious. They do their routine, and just as they get ready to swing the bat on Glenn, Gareth says, "Hey."

They stop, looking at their leader. "Your shot count?" Gareth asks the one with the knife.

"Crap, man, I'm sorry," he says. "It was my first round up."

"After you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells," Gareth orders. "They won't be gathering them until tomorrow." Bob says something, but it's muffled by his gag as Gareth looks us over. "Four from A, four from D?"

"Yeah," one of the butchers answers.

"Hey, let me talk to you for a minute," Bob says. Gareth pulls the gag off his mouth. "Don't do this. We can fix this."

"No, you can't," Gareth tells him.

"You don't have to do this," Bob begs. "We told you there's a way out of all of this. You just have to take a chance. We have a man who knows how to stop it. He has a cure. We just have to get him to Washington. You don't have to do this, man. We can put the world back to how it was."

Gareth shakes his head. "Can't go back, Bob."

"We can!" Bob tries to protest as Gareth puts his gag back on. "You don't have to do this!"

Gareth kneels in front of me, pulling my gag off. "We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it," he tells me. "Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it. What was in it?" I don't answer. "You hid it, right? In case things went bad? Smart. Still, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now." Gareth draws his knife, pulling Bob closer to him, and holding it up near his eye. "What was in it? I'm curious. And it was a big bag. You really gonna let me do this?"

"Well, let me take you out there," I tell him. "I'll show you."

"Not gonna happen." He moves the knife closer. "This might."

"There's guns in it," I answer, and he stops. "AK-47, uh, .44 Magnum. Automatic weapons. Nightscope. There's a compound bow, Clary's crossbow, and a red handled machete." I look at him. "That's what I'm gonna use to kill you."

Gareth chuckles, pulling his knife away as he releases Bob. He puts my gag back on, patting my shoulders. "Thanks." He stands, now addressing the butchers. "You have two hours to get them on the driers. I'm gonna go back to public face. Now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all in by sundown."

The butchers both give variations of acknowledgement, and everyone looks up, slightly confused, when there's gunshots. Gareth pulls out his walkie talkie, attempting to reach some dude named Chuck. The bald butcher goes to swing the bat yet again, but stops when there's another gunshot. Suddenly, there's an explosion, knocking all of us to the ground. After a moment, we all come to our senses, looking around. Gareth barks to the butchers to stay put as I pull out the stake, trying to cut the zipties around my hands as quickly as I can. "C'mon," the bald one says. "We've got a job to do."

The butcher with the knife pulls out a walkie talkie, saying, "You there, Gareth?"

"He's busy," the bald one says.

"You smell the smoke? You hear the shots? He could be dead! The hell we doing here?" he asks, turning away and towards the door as the bald butcher walks over to him. "The whole place could be going up!"

"You went on one round up and blew protocol. We don't deal with security. That ain't our job. This is." The one with the knife starts towards the door as I get to my feet, making my way over to the bald one. "Hey, look at me."

The one with the knife turns just as I stab the bald butcher in the neck, killing him. I go to do the same to the other, but someone beats me to it. She slices his neck with a knife, inquiring, "Why so serious?"

The butcher drops to the ground, and I see Clary standing behind him, the blade of her weapon soaked in blood. "What's that from?" I inquire, knowing that I've heard it before.

"Batman," she replies with a shrug, then spots Daryl. Clary runs over to her brother, dropping to her knees behind him and quickly cutting the ties on his hands. She moves around to face him, pulling the gag off of him. He wraps his arms around her, and Clary puts one arm around him, murmuring words I can't hear to him as she cuts the ties on Glenn's hands. Clary turns to her attention to her brother, saying, "It's alright. You're free." She tilts his head, forcing him to look at her. "Daryl, hey, breathe with me."

"I'm good," he says after a moment.

"If they got problems, we got a chance," I tell them, cutting Bob's ties.

"It sounded like a bomb," Glenn says.

"Sounds like a damn war," Daryl corrects, pulling away from Clary as they get to their feet.

"Then let's go fight it," Clary says, stepping up with Glenn to put a knife through the brains of the dead. I stop them by saying, "Let 'em turn."

"Who the hell are these people?" Bob inquires.

"They ain't people," Daryl says.

"How the hell did you get out?" Glenn inquires.

"Magician never reveals her secrets," Clary says. "Let's go."

I catch up to Daryl as we make our way out, and ask, "You okay?"

He glares at me, still obviously pissed for kicking his sister out. Clary leads us through the building, and we come into a room with torsos, human torsos, hanging from the ceiling. "You come across any of these people, you kill them," I order. "Don't hesitate. They won't."

"C'mon," Clary barks. "We need weapons."

She starts towards the door as the rest of us find things to use as weapons, and she watches through the glass. Glenn and I join her at the door, Daryl and Bob behind me. She looks out at the walkers surrounding a train car, distracted by the man shouting inside. "If we run, we can get by them," Clary says. "They're distracted."

"We gotta let those people out," Glenn argues, and Clary looks over at him. "That's still who we are. It's gotta be."

"That's still who y'all are," Clary says, shooting a glare in my direction.

"Now's not the time for this shit," I snap at her. "And I thought you said we're good."

Clary glances at Daryl, then turns back to me. "I said I understood why you did it. I never forgave you for it." She glances at Glenn. "I killed Karen."

"Shit," he breathes, then glances back outside. "Now's not the time. We've gotta get those people out."

"Alright," I agree. I open the door, and we run out, taking out the walkers distracted at the train car. Glenn opens the door, and a bearded man with tattoos comes running out at him, yelling something about how we're the same. He grabs Glenn by the shoulders, and Clary immediately reacts, kicking the tattooed man in the side and away from her sidekick. He stumbles over to me, grabbing my shoulders. I put up an arm to push against him, barking, "Back off!"

"We're the same," he replies, not moving. I shove him away as he begins to laugh hysterically, and he stares at us as he laughs. A walker suddenly appears, knocking the tattooed man to the ground before biting into his neck. Glenn quickly kills the walker, and Daryl pulls him back so he's not seen by the horde of walkers that start stumbling past. We watch, trying our best to come up with a plan. The walkers are coming from where A is, but we can't fight through them with just knives. "We've gotta double back," Bob says.

"A is that way," I argue. "We go back, we don't know where we are."

"We don't really have much of a choice, do we?" Daryl inquires. We turn as gunshots sound, Termites arriving to take care of the walkers. "Wait here," I tell them.

I take off, ducking down behind a car, knife drawn. I look at the mirror on the ground, using it to see where the enemy is. They take down the first wave, and I turn just as a walker appears. Daryl is right behind it, killing it before it even touches me. They take down the second wave, making their way forwards, past us. I get up to take down the last one, a man in the far back, but Clary beats me to it yet again. She slices his neck, quickly taking his gun and firing on the others. She turns, looking back the way they came, for anyone else. "Damn," I mutter. "I was gonna do that."

"Let's go!" Clary barks, picking up a gun from the first one she killed. She looks over at us, as we slowly step out towards her. "We don't have to double back. Now, c'mon. We ain't got much time."

~Clary~

I slide open the door to A, Rick and the others covering me. "C'mon!" I yell to the others inside, firing on the walkers. "We fight to fence! Go!"

Those of us with guns take care of walkers getting close to use from the sides and behind, while the others make a path ahead. "Watch your ass, Rhee!" I call, taking down a walker that was nearing him.

We make it to the fence, Rosita calling to us, "Up and over! Let's go!"

"Rick!" I bark, turning to see Gareth and few others on a roof. "We got company!"

We fire up at them while Abraham pushes everyone over the fence, yelling at Rick and I to hurry our asses up. He pushes Rick over first while I cover us for the last few seconds. "C'mon, Shorty," he tells me.

He gives me a boost up, pushing me over. "Watch it, Ginger!" I call as I feel his hand on my ass. "We just met!"

Not gonna lie, the drop was a bit farther than I expected, and I fall on my ass. I roll away as Abraham drops down beside me. We all pause for a moment, catching our breath, and I look over at him. "Buy me a drink first," I tell him, and he holds up a hand in apology. "Let's go."

Daryl and Rick lead us through the woods towards the buried duffle, Rick digging it up as Abraham inquires, "The hell are we still around here for?"

"Guns, some supplies," Rick answers. "We'll go along the fences, use the rifles. Take out the rest of 'em."

I kneel beside him, taking my crossbow and putting it over my shoulder. I reload my gun, fixing up an extra mag. "What?" Glenn inquires.

"They don't get to live," I say. "In this world, you're either the cattle or the butcher. And I'm done being the cattle."

"Jesus, Clary, what the hell happened to you?" Glenn says. "We got out. It's over."

Rick takes his Colt Python out of the bag, looking up at the others. "It's not over till they're all dead."

"The hell it isn't. That place is on fire," Rosita argues.

"So was Woodbury," I snap, even though I know that she won't understand. The others will, though. They'll understand why we have to go back in. "I went back to check, and found it on fire. But Governor still rolled up to our fences. It wasn't over."

"I'm not dicking around with this crap," Abraham says. "We just made it out."

"The fences are down," Maggie says as Rick stands. "They'll run or die."

I follow Rick up, then immediately feel dizzy. During everything in Terminus, I had adrenaline pumping, and I didn't feel the concussion. Now that we're out, however, it's starting to fade. I grab for Glenn's arm, and he looks at me in confusion. "Clary? Shit, Clary, hey!"

He catches me as I start to fall, and I grab his arm, holding on tight. "Clary?" he asks, concerned. "You okay?"

"Just a little dizzy," I reply, closing my eyes and hoping that the world will stop spinning. When I open them, Glenn's kneeling on the ground beside me, looking up as Rick fills him in on my current condition. He looks back down at me. "And you snuck out to fight?" Glenn inquires. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Adrenaline," I answer. "Didn't feel anything till just now."

I look around for Daryl, surprised that he wasn't right beside me, and I find him about twenty feet away, embracing someone. He moves slightly, and I immediately recognize the figure. "Carol?" I breathe.

The others turn, and Rick makes his way over as Daryl and Carol finally pull away, looking at each other. "That was you?" Rick inquires.

Carol gives a nod, and he immediately hugs her. I get to my feet, pushing away Glenn's hands as he tries to push me back down, and I start towards the woman that's been like a mother to me. "Carol!" I cry, and she immediately breaks away from Rick.

She wraps me in a hug, and I lean into her without hesitating, nearly sobbing in relief at seeing her. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry, Carol. I shouldn't've left."

"No, no, no," she quickly shushes me. "It's alright. It's alright. It's what I needed to get me to come back."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I look up as I feel Daryl's hand on my back, and I break away from Carol, leaning against Dayl for support. Carol turns to Rick, saying, "You've gotta come with me."

He nods once, packing everything into the duffle bag, including my dropped machine gun, and swinging it onto his shoulder. I notice Daryl has his crossbow back as he takes mine, putting it over his shoulder. Carol leads us through the woods, away from Terminus, and out onto a dirt road. When we come to the crest of it, I see an old cabin, Tyreese coming outside of it, Judy in his arms. Rick drops the duffle bag, running forward to take his baby, Carl right behind him. Sasha runs forward, and I stop short upon seeing her brother. They hug, while my brother's hand tightens around mine. I look at him, Tyreese, then back to Daryl. "It's time for the reckoning," I say. "Whatever happens, happens. Don't hold anything against him. Whatever punishment he dishes out, I deserve it, okay? I did this."

I let go of his hand as Tyreese lets go of Sasha, but Daryl grabs my wrist. He pulls me into a tight hug, burying his face in my shoulder, and I close my eyes, leaning against him. "Just in case," my brother whispers, his voice shaking slightly. "One last time."

"Love you, Daryl," I reply.

"Love you, too, Cheyenne," Daryl whispers. I pull back after a moment more, and Daryl leans forward, kissing my cheek. "Please, Cheyenne. I'll take care of it if he tries to hurt you."

"I deserve it," I reply. "Goodbye, Daryl."

I lightly touch Glenn's arm as I pass him, whispering, "Love you, Glenn."

I walk forward until I'm a few feet away from the man that will hold my life in his hand. I start, "Tyreese, I—"

"I know," he says. "I understand. I forgive you."

I look down under his forgiving gaze, having expected to have to fight for my life. I hadn't expected him to forgive me. I look up at him, and manage, "I'm so sorry, Ty."

He crosses the space separating us in two strides, hugging me. I'm hesitant at first to hug him back, but I do. It must be an odd sight, the two of us. A big, burly, black man and a small, thin, white, redneck. I look at Carol, and she gives me a small nod. She told him, and he forgave me. I'm allowed to live. For now.

Guess who's back, back again

*twaimz voice* It's me, bitch.

Sorry I'm tired. Anyway, I was listening to one to the Walker Stalker podcast when I was writing the outline for this chapter, and Norman mentioned that when he has to shoot a scene where he's tied up (aka the scene from Boondock Saints where ~spoiler alert~ R**** dies and Murphy and Connor are tied to the chairs) it freaks him out, so I figured I'd include Daryl having a fear of being tied up (aka merinthophobia (wow much science))