Setting: In the train carriage at Terminus. Directly after Season 4. All events previous are still relevant. Shows what could happen after season 4 finale. I wrote this before seeing the Season 5 trailer. Told from Maggie's viewpoint. Contains major character death.
I watch Rick warily. "They're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out". "Find out what?" Abraham questions from behind me. It feels like forever and I can sense the confusion in the carriage, my own included, as we stare at Rick. Only Daryl betrays the slightest hint of a smile. Rick turns, "They're screwing with the wrong people." I find comfort in that answer as it forces me to think over the hardships that we've had to overcome. We are going to be okay. After a short vote we decide to sleep as we are stuck in darkness. Glenn offers to take watch and I stretch out beside him, the floor ice cold on my cheek. "I love you" I mumble to him as my vision fades to black.
I wake to a chorus of yawns and I stretch, my limbs cramped from spending the night on the cold floor. "Hey" I mutter to Glenn, as I rub my eyes. The others begin to move about and only the tiniest sliver of light from under the door shows it's daytime. "Hey yourself," Glenn smiles, taking me into his arms. We lie back against the carriage wall and survey the scene. Daryl is pacing back and forth, the expression on his face clearly showing he's trying to come up with a plan. Rick is looking at Carl, who is still asleep, and talking to Michonne in a low, gravelly tone. Tara and Eugene are arguing quietly with Abraham and Sasha offers her views from time to time. Rosita is kicking the wall in time to a beat like soldiers marching. Bob is staring blankly, deep in thought. We continue like this for about an hour.
Daryl begins to speak. "Gareth's the ringleader. He's not like the Governor in terms of senseless violence, he's more calculating, but when the he feels the time is right he'll strike hard." Michonne nods in agreement and Rosita looks on, confused about the Governor. I'm about to explain when Abraham questions, "You got all that from just looking at the guy?" "I knew guys like this. They have big egos and don't like to be proven wrong. That's when they strike." He replies. "What does he want? His soldiers were shooting at our feet, like they didn't want to harm us" Michonne begins. "They were herding us" Carl pipes up, "To whatever crazy scheme this is." "We're gonna get out of here" Rick says reassuringly, "It won't end like this, it can't. Not stuck in some damn meat locker. We're stronger than that". Tara speaks in a hushed tone, "You think we're meat? For who? The walkers?" "Why would you keep walkers?" Abraham questions. "Dad did. Before he realised how dangerous they were." I say.
The carriage lapses into silence after that and I close my eyes, trying in vain to shut the memories out. I feel Glenn's arm tighten around me. "It will be okay" he whispers gently. "Maggie" someone calls. I look up and see Daryl. He drops to a crouch in front of me. "I was with Beth after the whole prison thing. Up until about four, five days ago." "She dead?" I ask. "I don't know, sorry. She's just gone. She got taken in a car and I tried to follow but I lost her. I'm so sorry." He explains, sorrow and defeat plain on his face. I drop my gaze to the floor and try to breathe evenly. I can feel the beginnings of a waterfall of tears prick at my eyes. But I don't let them fall. "We all got jobs to do". Beth's voice echoes around my head. If she could see me now, feeling sorry for myself she wouldn't be very happy. We can't give up. I can't sit still for much longer. I stand, dragging Glenn with me. "We fight!" I exclaim suddenly. I feel the weight of everyone's stares fall on me. "What else can we do?" Murmurs of agreement circle. Rick opens his mouth to speak but gets cut off by a grumbling voice outside, getting closer. "So the Archer?" "Yes. That's the orders" a timid voice replies. We look at Daryl, unsure what's happening. With a piercing sound like a human screaming the carriage door slides open. Glaring light floods the compartment, momentarily blinding us. "Get off" Daryl cries. As we stumble forward to help, the darkness suddenly envelopes us again. "DARYL" Michonne screams and we start banging on the walls of our metal cage. The shouts cut off outside and I hear a low thud. The sound of material dragging over a rough surface grows fainter.
"It's been hours. They've killed him" Carl says pacing, too agitated to sit still. "You gotta calm down Carl. We don't know anything yet" Rick pleads. We hear muffled voices outside and as they get louder and more coherent we draw ourselves backwards into the shadowy darkness. The door slowly slides open, creating a cool breeze, and Daryl stumbles forward then falls. One packet of trail mix flies in after him and ricochets off the wall. We rush over to help. Daryl's face is a patchwork of fresh bruises and cuts. One of his eyes has swollen shut and he is covered in blood. From the way he's clutching his side it seems he has damaged a rib and his breath comes in gasps. He's obviously in ferocious pain and we are powerless to help him. For the length of a heartbeat my body is consumed with white hot rage and I vow that these animals will pay. A quick glance at the others confirms that they feel the same way. First the Governor and his attack and now this. What happened to 'Sanctuary for all' and 'Those who arrive, survive' and all the other bulls**t they spouted over the radio? It just keeps coming. Why can't we just catch a break?
"They didn't ask me much." Daryl explains, "Well at least many questions that made sense. That's my theory shot to bits anyways. About who they are." "How many of them were in the room, you know…"Bob asks. "Beating me? About seven or eight" Daryl replies and spits, leaving a crimson stain on the carriage floor. We lapse into silence after that, wrapped up in our own thoughts. The walkers and lack of supplies we could fight through. We could scavenge, loot when necessary and protect ourselves. The only way we could deal with people like the ones holding us was to go on the offence, to strike and try to inflict the most pain. 'Unfortunately they beat us too it' I think grimly catching Daryl wincing as he tries to get comfortable. What did they want? What was their motive for holding us here? If they wanted us gone, why not just kill us? 'Though they weren't wasting many resources on us.' I think, staring at the food packet.
A lone owl hoots in the distance as night-time nears. We share out the packet of food and tend to Daryl's injuries as best we can, given our limited resources. From outside I can hear snippets of conversation, though not much of it makes sense. "Samurai…women…" We are just settling in for the night when the door is flung open, dusk light filling the space. Men pour into the carriage, like a tidal wave on an unsuspecting town. I can see they have grabbed Tara and Michonne, I can't see Sasha and Rosita lies unconscious on the ground. I feel someone grab my arms behind my back. "Let me go" I shout as I squirm to get away. "Maggie" Glenn cries, as I am forced down the steps. "Glenn". I slow my pace as much as possible, my feet dragging on the hard concrete. The barrel of a gun pokes stiffly into my back. "Move it" a man grumbles from behind me. Up ahead I see Michonne struggling with her captor. I can't see Tara, Sasha or Rosita anywhere. Craning my neck I see the carriage door is shut, locking the males in. I snap forward and realise that the guy holding Michonne has dropped his gun, trying to contain her. And idea pops into my head. Quick as lighting, I stop and jerk my head back, catching my captor unaware. He curses, and the second he lets go of me I sprint for the gun, my feet scrambling for purchase on the uneven ground. My breath quickens and my weak legs protest. A yard away from my goal a single shot rings out. Time stands still and I feel a sharp piercing pain in my chest. I stumble. As the ground approaches I see those I have lost. One quick burst of faces and colours. A tear rolls down my cheek as my vision blurs.