"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome." - Isaac Asimov

Believe it or not, my life was pleasant, you know, despite the end of the world. Despite watching everything I had built be destroyed in a blink of an eye, life was pleasant. It had brought me a family. It gave me a purpose. It gave me my Sasha.

The fiery remains of Terminus behind us, the life of a nomad was upon me. While I had felt this before, it was different, now that I'm in this group. Being alone, watching the people you call your family die from this horrendous world.

"Bob...Bob!" Sasha's voice called out to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I raised an eyebrow to her, wanting to know what she needed, "Did you hear me? It's my turn."

"Sorry, just thinkin'. What's is it this time?" I responded. Walking mile after mile, desperately trying to find our new home, trees become a blurry, boring sight. Sasha makes my mile after mile, day after day, my life pleasant.

"Danger around every corner?"

"Never a dull moment," smile fill my face, as she broke out laughing. She was happy.

Sasha grabbed my hand, head down, but a big smile plastered on her face from my previous comment. It's good to know she was happy.

"HELP!" The group stood in shock, trying to figure out where the cries came from, "HELP!"

Carl shot off into the woods, with Rick and the others right behind them. The acceptance and the open arms this group holds amazes me. After everything they, we, have went through, we can still let people in.

Bring up the rear, the walkers that had surrounded the mystery man, laid lifeless on the group.

From looking at him, he was a priest, or is passing off as one. The middle-aged man showed two emotions on his face: fear and gratitude. There was one other thing that threw me off about him. He had no weapons. When Daryl patted him down there was nothing on him. No knives. No guns. Not a pointy stick. Nothing.

"I have no weapons. The Word of God is the only protection I need." Bullshit.

He's done something, whatever it is, you can see it in his eyes as Rick begins to question him. Everything he says is 'for the Lord.' He's done something, but is too guilty to admit it.

"What have you done? We've all done something," Rick presses, trying to get something out of him.

"I am a sinner, I sin almost every day. But those sins I confess them to God, not strangers," he response, the fear growing in his eyes.

Eventually Rick managed to convince him to take us back to his church. It will be nice to stop for a little bit. Since Terminus, we have just been going no stop. Trying to out move what is left of the Terminates behind us.

The church is small and empty. Empty food cans littered the alter. Children's drawing covered the walls. This was more than just a church, it was a community.

"I don't have much left here, When everything happened, the church had just had their annual food drive. Most of the places nearby I've clean out, but one," Gabriel spoke.

"I think our focus need to be getting to D.C., and not about if the church is neat and tighty. There's a short bus out back. We can fix it up in a day or two. Father says he don't want it. Do you know what's at stake here?" Over the last couple of weeks, I've gotten to know Abraham well, good guy, but I swear to God I'm going to put a bullet in his head if he talks about D.C. one more time.

"Yes, I do," Rick said, peering over at him.

As discussions about where or what we are doing continued, I took my place in a pew, Sasha under my arm as for the first time, we sat down.

We needed supplies, water, and ammo. We were defenseless and starving.

"The county food bank is over run with walkers, but has plenty of food. If you could clear them, you would be okay," Gabriel chimed into the discussion.

"Fine. I, Bob, Sasha, and Michonne will take on the food bank. Maggie, Tara, and Glenn, go look for anything could be used as a weapon. Gabriel, you're coming too. You might be a priest, but that still doesn't mean I trust you," Rick laid out the plan in front of us. If this works, we could be in D.C. Eugene could find this cure. Things could go back to normal.

The walk to the food bank was short. As we entered the building, it seemed to be untouched by the destruction around it, but it was just a rosé. You could hear the noises of the undead coming from inside of the building. Sure enough, about twelve walkers, flesh falling off in the waist deep water around them, surrounded the shelves of food the covered the basements.

"If a sewer could puke, this is what it'd smell like," I called, trying to lighten the mood. Sasha looked up at me with a smile on her face, shaking her head at my comment.

"If we use the metal shelves, we could block the walkers just enough to kill them off," she responded, actually contributing to the mission.

"It's a good idea. Gabriel, lead the way," Rick shared, directing the cowardly priest to go down the stairs. The man is gonna get one of us killed.

Walking down the stair, the smell got worse and worse by the minute. By now, the walkers had discovered us, making their way over for dinner. The plan was working. Walker after walker, life as taken from them and fell into the murky water surrounding us.

Then everything went wrong. Gabriel got spooked, told ya, and attempted to make his way back up the stairs to safety. Right behind him, what was left of an older lady followed, determined to make Gabriel dinner.

And this is where I made my mistake. For the split second I was focused on Gabriel, I didn't notice the walker that had made its way behind me, now pulling me under the water.

And then I felt the burn. I felt the pain. I felt my life ending. I had been bit.

I managed to get back above the water, the walker still clinging on to me. I could already feel myself getting weaker. The bite wasn't even that bad. Sasha came and pulled the bastard off of me.

"You okay?" she looked at me, concerned.

"Yeah."

I lied. The pain was horrible, but I couldn't let her know that. We were happy. I couldn't let her last moments of me be like this.

The hall was great. Walking back to the church, carts full of food, some spilling over as we walked, and brought smiling faces to the group. Today was a win for them. For me, however, it was one of my last.

As the other sat around, laughing and smiling, in the church, I made my way outside. So many things were running through my mind. Would Sasha be okay? Why did it have to be me? What did I do to deserve this? That's when I broke down. I was dying and there was nothing I could do. Right when I had built something again, there it was, the world giving me a giant F-you.

Then I felt a different type of pain. Something hit my head, and everything went black.

When I woke up, I was surrounded by people, a small fire in the middle of us. They were eating something, from my haze I couldn't make it out. But I recognized a face, one I didn't want to see this close to the church: Gareth.

"The good news is, you're not dead yet," Gareth says. I can't move my hands, tied behind my back to something metal, "You and your people took away our home, and in order to survive, we have to hunt. We didn't start out eating people, you know. We evolved. We had to. And now we've devolved into hunters. I told you. I said it. Can't go back Bob. And at the end of the day, a man's got to eat."

The rest of the group starts laughing, and then I realize what they are eating. They are eating me. My leg, just gone. Screams begin to leave my body. The shock has taken away any pain.

As I sit here in panic, I can here Gareth say, "If it makes you feel any better, you taste much better than we thought you would."

Then it hit me. I've been bit. Screams give way to laughter.

"I think he's lost it." I can hear one of the Terminates say.

"No, you're eating tainted meat!" I lean, only to show them the bit mark on my neck. I'm laughing so hard my gut is starting to hurt, or is that from the infection."

The terminates look at each other in horror. "It's okay, we cooked him first. It should have cooked out the infection."

Gareth comes charging at me, "You son of a bitch!"

And then my world goes black.

When I woke up, I was back at the church. The infection had spread. Fever had set in, making my body weaker then what it already was. Sasha is at my side. She's been crying. I hate seeing her cry.

"When were going to tell me?" She was so hurt. All I wanted was her to be happy.

"I didn't want you to see me like this, dying. I wanted your last memory of me to be happy. I wanted to be happy." I tried lifting my hand up to her face, but my lack of strength prevented me from doing anything of the sorts. I could tell I was going.

"Of course, I'm going to remember the good times, but I wasn't going to leave you when it was your worst. I love you, Bob. I'll be with you till the end," She placed a kiss on my sweaty forehead.

And with that, I closed my eyes, for the last time.

The transition was truly troublesome.