AN -

So sorry for the delay in updating. Thank you all for your patience.

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There were times in her life when Andrea was in a hurry. Whether she was stuck at a red light, late for a court case as an attorney, or running from the CDC before it implodes, she knew how to work feverishly. And how to practice patience. But life sometimes seems to go in slow motion. And this time was one of them.

Violently, primally, she worked on the ropes that bound her and didn't seem to make much progress. She looked up occasionally at the beautiful morning sunshine and the hungry walker approaching her. She couldn't seem to make any headway fast enough!

"Pleeeeease! Pleeeeease! I wanna liiiiiiiive!"

The ropes were so thick! And she could see the walker's dead, gray eyes, only ten yards or so away. Its arms were outstretched, ready and willing to consume its breakfast.

Her hair blew in her eye a little and her shoulders ached so, so badly. And still, the fabric of the ropes only gave way a little!

"No! No! No! No! Nooooo!" Andrea wailed, over and over, in time with all of the strokes of thin wood on thick rope.

The walker was moaning excitedly. Mouth open, arms extended, it bound for its easy prey. It was only five yards away. And all Andrea could seem to do was pray!

"No, dear God! Please! Pleeeeeese!" Suddenly, one of the ropes broke free! She let a breath of relief only momentarily before she started on the other. She only had one more rope to go…

The walker grabbed her! Andrea screamed! Its putrid breath was on her shoulder and she felt its lips against her hair! She screamed! She screamed in terror! She screamed for life!

"Keep quiet."

Everything went still. She felt something wet and heavy on her lap. Andrea looked down and saw fresh blood that fell on her thigh. At first, she was confused and appeared to be out of danger. Andrea heard the familiar 'slump' of a walker being dispatched and tossed aside. She thought Gareth or maybe even Joel had killed the walker. She was not about to express her gratitude as she turned and looked up, over her shoulder.

The morning sun blinded her momentarily, putting her rescuer in shadow. But then, the savior moved into the light and smiled at her.

Rick. Rick Grimes. Rick Grimes! Fucking Rick Grimes!

A lifetime's relief smashed her senses and brought tears to her eyes. Someone else was working on her ropes. And when she turned over her other shoulder, another smile greeted her.

Michonne.

"Oh thank fucking, motherfucking, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking God you're here!" Andrea wailed. Michonne's sword cut her free, sending a mountain of tingling sensations through her whole body. Michonne had to help bring Andrea's arms forward and rest them on her lap.

"Well," Rick began, with that familiar Southern drawl, "you left us a nice trail."

"Huh?" Andrea asked.

"The bullets." He held his familiar .357 magnum bullet up. "These are no longer a dime a dozen. And shell casings too. They led us right to you."

Andrea smiled again and was helped to a standing position, something she hadn't experienced in quite a while.

"So," Rick began, "where are the oth-? Oomph!"

Rick was stopped by a sudden hug from Andrea. She squeezed his neck tight as little whimpers escaped her throat. He couldn't help but smile as he hugged her back. Little positive affirmations were whispered in his ear and he nodded to her. Abruptly she pulled back and practically fell on Michonne, hugging her as well.

"Glad you're back." Michonne whispered as a short cry of relief fell from Andrea's mouth. It was Andrea's turn to nod on the strong woman's shoulder. Finally, Andrea pulled herself away and pulled herself together. Rick and Michonne must've sensed that she needed a second or two to do this. So they gave her this time, looking around for Terminans or walkers. That's one thing that was always admired about fighters – just give them the few seconds they need to collect themselves and they're back.

"Do you," Andrea began, "have an extra gun or something?"

"No." Rick answered.

"Wait." Michonne said, pulling a bag off her shoulder. "I have something you could probably use." She was rifling through it as little bugs collected around them in the Georgia late afternoon. "Here." Andrea was presented a Bowie knife. She remembered this knife. She had one like it before. It felt familiar in her hand and she liked it. And that's when her face changed. Her jaw set in determination, she was ready to tell her story.

"I was taken by some Terminans." She said to Rick. He came closer to her and Michonne flanked them.

"Terminans?" Rick asked in surprise. "I thought they were all killed…" He paused and took a step closer to the blonde. "Did…did you do all of that? Back at Terminus?" Half smiling, she nodded. Rick smiled very briefly and then went stoic. "Thank you, Andrea."

"Thank you, Andrea." Michonne echoed. All the blonde did was nod.

"You saved our lives." Rick said. She looked at him. There was something there that wasn't being said. But it didn't matter then. Not then.

"The leader of their group is here." She began.

"What?!" Rick venomously asked.

"Y-yeah." Andrea answered. "His name is-"

"Gareth."

"You met him?"

"Oh yeah." Michonne said. "A real charmer."

"Yeah, sure." Andrea said. "He's sick as hell."

"You're tellin' me." Rick said. "Where is he now?"

"I'm not sure. I know that they go off for periods of time and then come back. Gareth…" her face soured a bit, "likes me or something."

Rick thought for just a second and then said, "Good."

"Uh, beg your pardon?"

"We need that."

"Excuse me?"

"No, no," Michonne chimed in, "he's right."

"What are you two…?" And then Andrea caught on. "Oh no. No guys. Please. I just got back with you two and now you want me to…"

"We have to." Rick answered.

"Oh noooooo!" Andrea whined.

"It's the only way. They can't be allowed to do this to people." Michonne said, gently touching her wrist. Andrea winced a little in pain from rope burns. But compared to the other pain in her entire body, she didn't care. She just didn't want to…

"Well…" Andrea began, and then sighed. "What do you want me to do after that?"

"We'll take care of that." Rick said.

"Yeah, don't worry." Michonne added. "We'll take care-"

"I'll do it." The blonde interrupted.

"What?" Rick and Michonne said.

"I said, I'll do it." Andrea responded, with determination.

"You sure?" the sword wielder asked.

"You don't know what he's…done to…" Andrea didn't finish. She didn't have to.

Rick checked around for any signs of walkers or Terminans. Satisfied there were none, he grabbed the torn ropes discarded near the pole and began affixing them back to it. Andrea watched him, a curious detachment on her face. Michonne watched them both, sword at the ready, but her eye protectively on the still-attractive blonde. Finally, Rick was ready, holding up a piece of rope in both hands. He turned and looked up at Andrea. Then Michonne did too. After a deep breath, Andrea walked over and sat down, putting her hands behind her but keeping her new knife on the ready.

Gently, Rick moved each hand closer together and loosely tied the ropes. Of course, he didn't knot them or anything. They were just wound around her wrists. It looked like they were tight, but they weren't really. When he was done, he stood up and walked in front of her, flanked by Michonne.

"We'll be," Rick softly began, "right over there behind those trees." When Andrea didn't say anything, he hunched down. "Are you sure about-?"

"Go."

Rick stared at her for a minute. And then to his surprise, she asked, "Can I borrow your gun just in case?" He stared at her bewildered. "Just in case."

"But," Rick protested, "we'll be right over there."

"I know. But it's just for backup. Please." When he didn't answer, she added, "I know how the safety works." He half-smiled at that and then handed over his trusty .357 magnum. He placed it on the ground near her hip. Normally, he would've been uncomfortable touching Andrea's hip and buttock, but this was a survival situation.

After that, Rick and Michonne took off and hid, jumping over the walker's corpse. No one knew how long it would take for Gareth or any one of the Terminans to show up. But after getting answers from one of them, they'd know more information.

Despite the shade from nearby trees, Rick and Michonne were incredibly hot, thanks to the Georgia summer. She grabbed her water bottle and offered it to Rick. He waved his hand, declining. And when she lifted the water bottle to her lips, she saw Andrea sitting there. She had no shade whatsoever. The late afternoon sun was beating down on her from behind, making her dirty blonde hair shimmer that much more. But then, she saw something that disturbed her a little. Andrea was panting.

Suddenly, Michonne stood up, looked around, and started towards her.

"Michonne!" Rick loudly whispered. "Get back here!"

She ignored him, coming to a kneeled stop right beside Andrea. Rick watched Michonne hold up a water bottle to Andrea's lips, who heartily drank. He didn't like this. He didn't know where Gareth and the others were. Rapidly checking right and left, he didn't see any of them but still didn't like it. Michonne was finally done and after swiping some of Andrea's hair behind her ear, she got up and ran back to their hiding place.

"That was risky." Rick whispered.

"It was necessary." She replied.

Meanwhile, Andrea felt refreshed. She hadn't had water in a long time and it felt good. She was beginning to feel heat stroke coming on and that would've been very bad. Looking around, she wasn't surprised to see the Confederate flag near her or a bit of rope. It was refreshing to just sit there without the tight ropes on her wrists. And it was even more reassuring to have her friends nearby.

The trap was set.

Now, all that was required was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Her eyes never grew accustomed to the sun was it traveled in the sky. The light blinded her often and it was difficult to see anything clearly. As with all traps, there was a measure of nervousness she hadn't felt since she took on the Federal government as a civil rights attorney. But it was so, so dangerous to think of life before the dead began to walk. So, she shook that memory from her mind and sighed.

There was some rustling in the nearby trees. Alarmed, she turned her head to the left, away from Rick and Michonne. Branches bent and foliage crunched on the ground, but she couldn't see anything or anyone. She hoped it wasn't a walker. She hoped it was Gareth. Hell, she just hoped…

Finally, Joel emerged from the brush. He stared at her with clear hate in his eyes. His brown hair was matted and dirty under his red, white, and blue baseball cap and he stroked his beard. Arrogantly, he emerged from the woods and walked up towards her. He didn't appear to see the dead walker or the Confederate flag. Joel's eyes were glued to Andrea.

"It's funny." Joel began with that heavy Southern drawl, "I was beginnin' to like you, Andrea. I really was." He squatted down near her and eyed her entire body. "Now, I might like you with salt and pepper."

"Fuck off." Andrea disgustedly said.

And then, his eyes went dark and his voice turned feral. "Not until I have some fun with you…"

Slowly, painfully, she turned and saw the look on his face. She immediately knew what he was going to do. Her fingers grasped the knife behind her on the other side of her body. She couldn't reach for the gun – he'd figure out she wasn't really tied up!

"You kicked me in the nuts." He matter-of-factly said. "My wife did that to me once." Joel scooted so close to her that his knee was only inches from her mouth. "Just once…" He stroked her arm and she shook at the contact. "OJ got away with it. I can too…"

Involuntarily, Andrea tried to pull away from him and that only made him smile. His brown, disgusting teeth shined in her face and his fetid breath almost made her vomit. Joel moved his hand over to her face and pulled it back to him.

"I wonder," he nastily said, "what your pussy tastes like?"

"You'll never know." She whispered.

Joel laughed. Andrea glared. And suddenly, everything happened.

She snatched her knife and stabbed Joel in the neck! He cried out and fell to the side, blood pouring out of his tendon. Andrea pulled the knife out and plunged again! His eyes bulged and he couldn't cry out. Joel's eyes were wide with shock and terror as he lied helpless on the ground. His arms swung at her as she stabbed him a third time. Finally, his body lied still and Andrea wasn't aware she was crying. Instead, she fell back away from him and turned to the side, letting the horrors of the past two days consume her.

She was dimly aware that Rick and Michonne were nearby. Andrea may have even seen Michonne plunge her sword into Joel's head. Her vision was like a dream, where life and death don't have a definite border and everything one color becomes another. Michonne offered her some water and Andrea was barely aware of it. She felt Rick's touch as he tried to help her up. He reclaimed his gun. But she couldn't move. She couldn't think. Instead, her eyes fell on the Confederate flag and she stared at it, somewhere between the living and the dead.

"The South rises again." Andrea whispered.

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