All of my completed TWD stories, short and long, have now been posted here under Maddie and on Archive Of Our Own (AO3) under the user name maddie_amber. For a complete list of my stories in chronological order please see my profile page. As always thank you for reading.


"Hold her down." The command was hard and impatient. Beth glanced up at his face. His nameless face. Like everyone else here, he had no name, no personal identity. He was just one more gear in the machine that tried very hard to be well-oiled and often was not.

"I said hold her," he repeated as he tightened the restraining straps, securing Marta to the gurney.

Marta had a name and identity. She was the only person who had confided that information to Beth. Marta wanted someone to remember who she was before here.

"We've got to get this arm off before the infection reaches her blood," he said.

Beth started to reach for the mask used to administer anesthesia.

"No time for that," he barked reaching for the wire saw.

Beth knew that. Only time would save Marta.

"Don't let him cut off my arm." Marta's voice was a harsh whisper her eyes locked on Beth's face were wide with fear, and pain. Then her eyes were closed and she was screaming, her mouth a cavern of agony seconds before she passed out.

"I'm so sorry," Beth whispered. Sorry that she could not stop the walker that bit Marta. Sorry that she could not spare her this agony. And in the back of her mind, because he would always be with her, she whispered silent regrets to her father who had also shared this fate. At least a surgical saw was better than an ax. She only hoped Marta would be as fortunate as her father and recover. That may be a blessing or a curse because physical handicap would not be tolerated in this place. If you could not do a job, you did not stay.

The arm was off in minutes, and he was tying off the major arteries, staunching most of the blood flow.

"Put pressure on this now," he commanded again, and Beth stepped to Marta's side, gripping the white bandages firmly to slow the loss of blood. Her own pristine white cast slowly turning crimson as it soaked up Marta's life.

"Do you think we got to her quickly enough?" Beth asked.

He looked at her sternly, dismissing her question without answering it. He did not have to voice his disdain. Too many others already had. She was to be seen and not heard. Ask no questions. Do as she was told. And she would be allowed to remain.

And she didn't give a crap if she remained. She wasn't sure where this place was, or what had happened to Daryl after they were separated, but she was going to find out. And she was going to escape. She would rather take her chances alone than stay here as a nameless cog in a squealing machine.