Chapter 7: No Way Out
~Abraham~
"Daryl," Sasha says to our driver, looking at something ahead of us in the road.
"Yeah, I see," Daryl replies.
I look ahead to see a group of guys on motorcycles, stopped in the middle of the road, almost like they're waiting for us. "What in the holy shit?" I question.
Daryl slows to a stop in front of them, the brakes of the fuel truck squealing as he does so. We don't move, staring down at them, waiting for them to make the first move. The guy in front, obviously the one in charge of the group, climbs off his bike, calling up to us, "Why don't you come on out, join us in the road?" It's not a request, it's an order. Still, we hesitate, because we don't know who the hell these people are or what they want. "You know, if you wanna resist, try something, I mean, it's a choice, I guess. But we will end your asses, split you right in two. Straight through to the sinuses. So, come on!"
As Daryl turns the engine off, we climb out, Daryl on one side, Sasha and I on the other. I take a few steps forward, Sasha lingering behind me. "Alright," the leader says. "It's going well right out of the gate. Now, step two. Hand over your weapons."
"Why should we?" Daryl questions.
"Well, they're not yours."
"What?" I say, glaring at him as I stand tall in the military uniform I found.
"You see," the leader starts. "Your weapons, your truck, the fuel in your truck, if you got mints in your glove compartment, if you got porn underneath the seats, change in the seats, hell, the seats themselves, the floor mats, your maps, the little stash of emergency napkins you got there in the console, none of those things are yours anymore."
"Whose are they?" Sasha demands.
"Your property," the leader says, stepping towards us, "now belongs to Negan."
We stand in silence, and I realize that these guys belong to another group, one probably just as large as Alexandria. And this guy, the one that I thought was the leader, isn't in charge of the entire group. He's just in charge of this group of dicks that think they can take our shit. He continues, "And if you can get your hands on a tanker, you're people our person wants to know." He steps forward, heading towards Daryl first. "So, let's get those sidearms, shall we? Right now."
Daryl hesitates, and for a moment, I think he's going to do something incredibly stupid and heroic, and he does, too, but he must think of Clary back home, how he'll only get himself killed if he tries anything. So he hands over his handgun, the only weapon he has aside from his knife. After those pricks he ran into took not only his motorcycle, but his crossbow as well.
The leader of Negan's people takes his gun, thanks him, and moves on to Sasha. She gives him her handgun, looking defeated. As he approaches me, I don't look him in the eye, pretending that he's not even there. I glance down at him as he says, "If you have to eat shit, best not to nibble. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. It goes quicker."
I give him my gun, knowing that he'll get it eventually. As he turns and walks away, Sasha, questions, "Who are you people?"
"I get the curiosity," he says, glancing over his shoulder to look at her. "But we have questions ourselves. And we'll be the ones asking them while we drive you back to wherever it is you folks call home. Take a gander at where you hang your hats. First, though, your shit. What have you got for us?"
"Yeah, you just took it," Daryl snaps.
"Come on. I mean, can we not, okay? There's more. There's always more." He sighs when we don't answer, turning to address one of his men as he climbs back on his bike. "T, take my man to the back of the truck, start inside the back bumper, work your way to the front." I clench my fists as the man known as T shoves Daryl back, pushing him towards the back of the truck. I look over at Sasha as she clenches her jaw, wondering if she's thinking of taking this fuckers on like I am. "Bite, chew, swallow, repeat."
"Who's Negan?" I question, looking back at his men.
"Ding, dong, hell's bells," the leader sings, aiming one of our guns at me. "You see, usually we introduce ourselves by just popping one of you right off the bat. But you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you're sportin' dress blues, for Christ's sake. And, like I said, we're gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone whose friend or friends you've just killed?" He groans. "Oof. But I told you not to ask any questions. And then what does this ginger do? So that's that. I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me."
The hammer clicks as he cocks it, and Sasha cries, "Wait!" She takes a breath. "Wait. You don't have to do this."
As the leader of Negan's posse draws a second gun, aiming it at her, I tell her, "Shut up."
"I am talking to the man," Sasha hisses.
"No, you're not," the leader says. After a moment, he sighs, lowering his guns. "Nah, I'm not gonna kill you. Wait, wait. On second thought, maybe I will."
Before he can even raise his guns, there's an explosion, knocking Sasha and I on our backs. I blink in confusion before I realize, the rocket launcher. It was the rocket launcher I found that just saved our asses. Sasha and I slowly sit up, trying to recover from the shock of the explosion. From the other side of the truck, I can hear laughing, and it takes me a long time to realize that the laughter is coming from Daryl. I've seen him grin at something that his sister has said, but never heard him laugh. "Damn, Abe," he says, looking over at us as we stumble over to him. "This thing really works."
We step around to his side of the truck, looking at the body of the man that took Daryl to the back of the truck. "Son of a bitch was tougher than he looked," Daryl says, noticing that we're looking at his body.
"Did he cut you?" Sasha inquires, seeing the blood on our savior's shoulder.
"A little," Daryl replies. "What a bunch of assholes."
Sasha chuckles, holding a rag against his shoulder to slow the bleeding. She claps his shoulder, saying, "Let's get you fixed up at home."
"Yes, ma'am," Daryl replies as she pulls the rag away, opening the door to the truck.
"Wait until Clary hears about this one," Sasha laughs, which causes Daryl to groan.
"Great," he sighs. "Last thing I need from her is a momma cat smackdown. As if she's not gettin' one for the shit she pulled."
Sasha laughs, while I grin. "Talk about an upgrade, Dixon," I say, looking at the rocket launcher still in his hands.
Daryl grins, looking down at it, then nods towards the truck. "C'mon, let's go."
He climbs in, and I follow Sasha around the front, looking down at the bodies of the men that stopped us. To the bodies of the assholes, I say, "Nibble on that."
~Clary~
Rick stays in the lead as we make our way through the walkers, Carl directly behind him, Michonne and I in the rear, with Father Gabriel and the Andersons scattered between Carl and I. We slowly make our way down the streets, heading towards the armory, while I try to take a count of all the walkers. However, they're too spread out for me to get a good guess on their number. "Rick," I hiss, keeping my voice quiet as I try not to draw attention to us. "Rick."
He glances back at me, and I gesture with my head to a space free of walkers near the lake. Rick changes directions, making his way towards it. We break apart, standing in a circle while Michonne and Carl take watch. "We've gotta make a new plan," I whisper. "Flares from a few guns won't be enough. They're too spread out, and I can't count how many there are."
"So the armory's out," Rick agrees. "I've got an idea."
"Let's hear it."
"Spencer said about going across and gettin' a car to lead 'em away. It made me think. We need our vehicles back at the quarry. All of us drive. We'll need to round 'em up. We leave, we come back."
"Okay," Jessie says, the first to agree. She looks towards Carl, at Judy underneath his cloak of insides. "But Judith, to the quarry and back, I…"
"Jessie's right," I agree. "Judy, she can't make that kind of trip. Someone's gonna have to stay behind."
We're all quiet for a moment before Gabriel volunteers, "I'll take her. Keep her safe in my church until you all lead the walkers away."
Michonne turns away from her watchpost to look at the father. "Can you do this?"
"I'm supposed to," he replies, looking at her. "I have to." He turns to Rick. "I will."
"All right," Rick agrees. Judith whimpers as she's passed from Carl to Gabriel, who shushes her as he takes her under his sheet. Before Gabriel can leave, Jessie tells him, "Take Sam."
"No," Sam objects, looking up at his mother.
"Yes, Sam, it'll be safer."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Sam, goddammit!" I snap, facing him. "You'll just slow us down! Go with Gabriel! This time, I have a chance to do the right thing. I've got to get you safe, 'cause I can't watch another Sam get killed by them. So, dammit, just go."
"I'm not leaving," he repeats, looking up at his mother. "I can keep going."
"Sam," Jessie starts.
"I can keep going," Sam reiterates. "Please." His mother doesn't say anything. "Please. Let's just go."
Jessie glances up at Rick before she agrees. "Gabriel," I start, but he cuts me off, looking up at Rick.
"I'm going to keep her safe."
"Thank you," Rick whispers. Gabriel nods once before turning and walking back the way we came, heading for his church.
"He's gonna make it," Jessie assures him. "I know it."
"Let's do this," I say, taking Carl's hand in one of mine, and Ron's in the other. Rick takes Sam's hand, who takes Jessie's, who then takes Carl's other hand. Ron keeps his eyes down as he takes Michonne's hand, and we start off again into the herd of dead.
~Eugene~
"We have to try."
"We cannot go out there, Tara. There are too many of them."
"Rosita, he's gonna kill her."
"We won't get to her!"
"Denise needs us!"
"We'll die. That is what will happen. We have one gun, and the streets are filled with those things. That man with the W, he needs her. Okay? She's a doctor, and he's sick. And I think we've seen that he knows how to survive. But we need to make sure that Carol and Morgan are okay and then we make a plan. We cannot just go."
"Okay," Tara says, sniffling. I sit back on my knees after watching the two women argue, after Rosita's speech about what we need to do. Below me, Carol groans, signalling that she's awake after her fight with Morgan, which allowed the W Man to escape with Denise as his hostage.
"Easy," I tell her, helping her to her feet. Morgan's still unconscious after the W Man hit him with his own bo staff.
"Rosita," Carol says, looking across the room at the younger woman as I hand her the knife she dropped. "I'm gonna need your gun. Gonna do a sweep of the brownstone. I want to see what other surprises are in here."
"Hey, he's waking up," I say, seeing Morgan start to move. Rosita and I kneel by him, helping him sit up. Morgan looks around, then asks, "Where is he? Where's Denise?"
"He took her, didn't he?" Carol questions. Rosita nods slowly, getting to her feet, and Carol sighs, taking her gun as she heads upstairs. I help Morgan up before heading to the window, looking out into the streets. "It seems like there's more," I mutter. "They just keep comin'."
~Glenn~
I hold the door to the new church open for Enid, closing it as soon as she's through. "Maybe when they searched this place, they missed something," I suggest, starting up the aisle. "Depends if it was Aiden or Heath's group who went through it."
"You think there's anything left?" Enid inquires, checking under seat cushions for anything.
"There's nothing left that isn't hidden," I reply, glancing over my shoulder at her. "Check the Bibles, too. Could've hollowed out the pages."
"Are you serious?"
"We have two bullets. People who holed up here, they're not coming back. But people hide guns, ammo. Maybe something to start a fire." I glance out the window. "It's getting dark out soon. Maybe we can distract them. We need sheets, ropes, towels, anything Maggie can use to climb down the other side." She ignores me, completely silent. "Enid!"
"When I wanted to run," she starts. "You said, 'that's how you lose people, even after they're gone.' What the hell does that mean?"
"People you love, they made you who you are," I answer. "They're still part of you. If you stop being you, that last bit of them that's still around inside, who you are… it's gone."
Enid turns now, facing me. "Who are those people to you?"
"My parents," I answer, thinking of everyone that I loved that I've lost as I start towards her. "A man named Dale. Maggie's father, Hershel. A woman named Andrea. A man named Tyreese." I look down, standing directly in front of her now. "Who are they to you?"
Enid looks down, whispering, "My parents."
I lean down, softly telling her, "Then they're still here, 'cause you're still here."
I wrap an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. "Glenn?" she asks. "Glenn, what the hell? Let go of me."
I release her, but still keep a hand on her shoulder. "Enid, listen," I tell her. "I want you to stay put."
"What?" Enid questions, following me as I head towards the alter.
"I wanted you to come back."
"I can handle myself. You said you wanted help."
I stop walking, turning to face her. "No, I didn't want you to give up on this place, on these people, to be afraid."
"You were right. So I'm here now. And I'm going out there and I'm helping you. We have to get her off that platform. She's hurt. She needs help getting over the wall. I can climb up the gate, you can distract them. We do it together." When I say nothing, she chuckles. "I'm just going to follow you anyway." At that, I chuckle softly, and Enid's eyebrows crease in confusion. "Glenn? What is it?"
"Back in that alley, when I first saw you," I tell her. "I mistook you for Clary. But now, I see that you two aren't so different."
Enid scoffs. "We're nothing alike."
"Yeah. you are," I argue. "You're survivors, and that comes first. Before anything else. You've lived through it all, and you fight to tell the tale."
Enid scoffs again. "Whatever. You keep looking for the Bible Glock, and I'll make Maggie something to climb down."
"Okay," I say, realizing that she's not going to stay behind while I go save my wife. "Let's hurry."
We split off, Enid gathering any cloth or rope while I search anything and everything for the Bible Glock, as she called it. "Hey," I hear Enid call, and I turn to find her holding up a box with a gun inside. "You were right." She hands me the gun, taking her collection of cloths as she heads for the door. "Let's go save Maggie."
"Can't you just stay here?" I call after her.
"Nope," she answers. "Now let's get it done."
~Clary~
We still have a ways to go before we reach the gate when the sun disappears below the horizon, and as I recount the amount of walkers, I find myself wondering if I just witnessed my last sunset. Carl squeezes my hand tighter for a second, just enough to get my attention. "C'mon," he whispers. "We'll be there soon."
As I look up in his eyes, I wonder how we've gotten this far. How we got here. How I went from a kid that trusted no one except her brothers to the survivor I am now, and how he went from an innocent kid, scared of the dead, to one that walks among them, unfazed. How we're still alive after everything that should've killed us. I wonder how the good people that deserve to live are dead, and the bad ones, the evil ones are, too, but the people that don't deserve to live are still alive. The people around me that's been with me since Georgia, the ones I consider family, they deserve to live, but I don't. Not after all the people I've killed, the people I've gotten killed. Not after the things I've done.
"Clary," Carl whispers. "Hey, you with me?" I nod once. "Alright. C'mon."
We slow to a stop when Sam lets go of Rick's hand, and then Jessie's, backing away from them. "Sam?" Jessie asks, bending down slightly so they're eye level. "Sam? Sam, c'mon. Come on. Sweetheart? Sam?"
"You can do it," Rick tells him, keeping his voice low. "You can do it."
Sam shakes his head, and Jessie adds, "Yes, you can. Come on, Sam. Sam."
"Sam," I hiss. "Sam, we ain't got time for this. We gotta go. C'mon."
"Sam," Ron whispers from beside me. "Sam, you can do this. Just look at Mom."
"Sam, come on," Jessie says. "Sam, honey, I need you to come with me."
He lets out a sob, and I glance around as the walkers stumble towards us, drawn by the noise. "Sam," I hiss, while the others try to get him to continue on. "Sam, shut up. C'mon, man. Be quiet. We gotta keep goin'. It's the only way we all can live."
Just as I say that, walkers grab him, and he lets out an ear-piercing scream as they tear into him, screaming for Jessie. His mother lets out a sob, then a scream as she watches her youngest son be torn apart in front of her. "Oh, Sam," I whisper, and Ron's nails dig into my hand as he tightens his hold, as if that's the only thing keeping him up. "Sam, no, oh, no."
"Jessie," Carl tries. "Jessie, c'mon. Come with us. You have to go. C'mon."
She doesn't scream as the walkers grab her, but when Carl doesn't pull away, doesn't step back towards me, I know that something's horribly wrong. I look around him as he tries to pull his hand free of Jessie's but she has a deadlocked grip on his, her screaming drawing more as the walkers feast on her. "Rick!" I cry, releasing my grip on Ron's hand as I move to help Carl. "Rick!"
"Dad!" Carl cries, his desperation showing in his voice.
"Rick, dammit!" I shout, not caring about the loudness of it. It can't be as loud as Sam's screams. "Get your shit together!"
At that, Rick moves, using the hatchet he carries to chop Jessie's arm off, freeing Carl. Unbalanced, we both fall back, and I scramble to my feet the second I hit the ground. I watch over Carl's shoulder for the walkers coming from that direction, trusting that he's watching my back. I turn as the hammer of a gun clicks to find Ron aiming it between Carl and I, at Rick.
"You."
Before Ron can fire, Michonne steps in, taking the matters into her own hands. Ron's aim shifts to the side as she stabs him through the back, still firing once, but it misses Rick. Ron's body drops to the ground as Michonne steps away, nodding once to Rick. She's got his back, and I turn to look at him, gesturing towards him with my hand. You good? He nods once, and I catch a glimpse of Carl's face as he turns to look at his father. My heart stops as I see the damage, the injury. The bloodied eye socket. He asks, "Dad?"
He drops to the ground, and Rick rushes to his son, as I stare in horror. Ron managed to get the shot in, managed to get his revenge. "Carl," I sob, then turn to look at Ron, who struggles to breathe on the ground. "You son of a bitch!"
I draw my gun, firing three shots. One is in Ron's stomach, the other two in each of his knees. No, I'm not going to kill him. I'm just going to put him through so much pain he'll be begging for the walkers. In the back of my mind, I hear the walkers getting closer, Rick and Michonne begging me to get my shit together and fuckin' move, but I keep firing on Ron, hitting in the right places not to kill him, but it'll hurt like hell, moving closer to him as I do so. Michonne grabs my arm, pulling me back just as the walkers descend on him. I follow directly behind Rick, taking any walker down that tries to get the jump on us from behind. Michonne pushes her way through the crowd, and I try not to look at Carl hanging limp in Rick's arms, just like he did two years ago.
~Eugene~
I watch Tara from my spot on the ground, as she watches out the window. She turns, starting towards us as she says, "It's thinning out front."
"We need to get out there," Carol says, stepping through the doorway. "Rick's making a stand."
"How's that?" I inquire.
"He's out there fighting them with Michonne, Clary, some others. It's time. Up the alley. I'm going." She rests a hand on Tara's shoulder, making sure she has her attention. "Denise is safe."
"Did you see her?" Tara asks.
"Yeah, she made it to the infirmary. I'm gonna go help Rick."
"I'm going, too," Morgan says, getting to his feet.
"I'm with you," Tara volunteers while Rosita says, "All right, me, too."
"Right behind you," I add, getting to my feet to follow them.
Rosita turns to look at me. "Eugene, you don't have to."
"That's incorrect. I do," I tell her. I'm scared as all hell, but dammit, it's my turn to step up. I might've saved Tara back at that warehouse, but that doesn't make me truly part of this group. So I've gotta get out there and help them. "No one gets to clock out today. And, hell, this is a story people are gonna tell."
~Clary~
Yet again, we have to turn around, this time ducking through alleys and taking all the shortcuts we can to get to the infirmary. As we reach the porch, Rick takes the lead, Michonne and I covering from behind as the door is opened for him. I slam the door behind us while Denise questions, "This is a gunshot?"
"Handgun, close range," Michonne answers.
"Please save him," Rick begs, laying his son on the gurney Aaron wheeled over. "Please."
I stumble back, frozen as the previous events flash before my eyes, over and over again. I'm dimly aware of Heath beside me, not moving as he takes the sheet off of me, then drops it as I fall back into him. "Clary?" he questions, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me. "Hey, Clary!"
Denise glances up for a second, and I lock eyes with her. "Save him," I manage. "He's all I have."
"Clary?" Heath tries. "Clary, look at me! Are you hurt?"
I slowly shake my head, coming back down to earth a bit more as Heath forces me to speak, asking random, rapid fire questions. Everything from Harry Potter trivia to the twenty-sixth president. I turn as the door opens, thinking someone else is being rushed in, but I find Rick, hatchet in hand, stepping out the open door. "Rick!" Michonne cries, looking as though she wants to go after him, but she's occupied with Carl. "What are you doing? Rick!"
I freeze, torn between going after Rick and staying behind with Carl. Oh, god, what the hell do I do? Think, Clary, think! What would Carl want you to do? I can almost hear his voice as I think, He'd tell me that he'll be fine, to go after his dad. "'chonne," I say, starting forward, ignoring Heath's protests. "I'm gonna have to borrow your sword."
"Take it!" she barks, glancing up at me as I step over to them. "I'll find you later, trade you back!"
I squeeze Carl's hand, then take Michonne's katana, turning towards Heath and Aaron, who stand by the window, watching. "He's taking them all on," Aaron says. "We have to go get him."
"What?" Spencer inquires.
"We have to," Heath repeats, glancing over at me as I approach.
"You'll do shit," I reply. "Stay here, don't follow me, and Aaron, open the goddamn door. And that's a fuckin' order."
"You need our help!" Heath cries. "You can't do it yourself!"
"Watch me," I reply. Aaron pulls open the door, and I rush out, taking down any walker within a three foot radius of me. I push forward through the crowd, trying to catch up with Rick. I glance behind me to see Aaron and Heath directly behind me, Spencer a few feet behind them. "The hell are you doin' here?" I bark.
"Givin' you a hand!" Heath barks back. "This is our town! Ain't nobody takin' it, dead or alive!"
"Clary!" I hear Michonne shout, and I spin towards her, taking down a walker beside her. I return her katana, relying now on the hunting knife I took from the armory. We form a circle, our backs to each other as we face the walkers, taking them down as they approach. "Knock 'em down!" I bark. "Drive 'em down! We got this!"
A handful of others, Olivia and Eric included, join the front line, while Rick barks out encouragement to them. "Heath said it best!" I bark, sending a bit of a grin his way as we fight. "This is our town! Let's take it back!"
I look in the direction of Maggie's watchpost, where I saw she was trapped, and I notice it starting to shake as the walkers crowd around it. More and more people join our front lines, and I catch a glimpse of Father Gabriel, who's finally getting his shit together, and Eugene, stepping up yet again, helping to clear the town. "Maggie's in trouble!" I bark. "Keep goin'! I got her!"
I take off, shoving walkers away from me and taking down the ones I can't as I head for the watch tower. "C'mon, you dead sons a bitches!" I scream, making as much noise as I can to draw as many as possible. "C'mon! Come and get me!" I fire on them, hoping it draws more. "I got no one left! Let's see you take me on!"
"Clary."
Even with the walkers growling, I can hear it. I try to shake it off, try to ignore it as I take out the walkers in the rage that had been building since Ron fired the gun. I don't bother with my gun, using my knife and a second one I took to kill walker after walker. "You took everything from me!" I shriek, staring into one's dead eyes as I drive my knife into its head. "Everything I've ever cared about! And it's gone!"
"Clary, get down!" Glenn shouts, and I don't hesitate to duck. A gun fires, and the walker drops to the ground beside me, within arms reach. "C'mon!"
"Go save your wife," I tell him. "I got these."
The next thing I know, he's beside me, taking my arm and pulling me back, facing off against the walkers. I let him take the lead, backing up as every one of them in the area stumbles towards us. "Glenn," I say when my back hits the wall. "What have you done?" I shove a walker back, stabbing a second in the head. "I was ready to die! I'd accepted it!" I take one down that was too close to him, then duck as he shoots one over my head. "But not with you!"
The walkers push back against us, pushing us together and against the wall. Maggie screams, trying to draw them away from us, but they're set on us. Glenn grabs me, pulling me against him, and we duck as there's machine gun fire, taking down the walkers. We look at each other in surprise, both of us having thought that was the end. I look up as Abraham yells, "Can you get the gate? We'd appreciate it, pal!"
"I don't think I've ever been this glad to see that damn ginger," I breathe, knowing that if he's there, Sasha beside him, then so is Daryl. Glenn covers me as I run for the gate, pulling it open as a fuel truck is driven through. Daryl pulls it to a stop beneath Maggie's watchpost, Sasha and Abraham helping her and Enid down while Glenn climbs in the cab with Daryl. "What the hell happened?" Daryl questions.
"I don't know, I just got back," Glenn answers as I climb in beside them.
"Clary?"
"It was the Wolves," I pant. "Tried to get a truck through the gate, Spencer stopped 'em. It went into the tower, tower came down. Walkers got in. And Rick's makin' a stand, right now."
"Listen," Glenn proposes. "We can lead some of 'em away."
"They're scattered," I reply. "It won't work."
"We get 'em all together," Daryl says. "Won't have to lead 'em away."
"What're you gonna do?" I ask. "Lake of Fire or some shit?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"You've gotta be shittin' me," I sigh. Daryl hits the roof of the cab, signalling to the others to hold on, and he backs the truck up to the lake. Glenn and I scramble out, taking out walkers that stumble over and covering Daryl as he pours fuel into the lake. Maggie, Sasha, Enid, and Abraham either join Glenn and I or cover Daryl. He whistles after a few moments, and the others all climb in the cab, while Daryl and I climb on top of the truck. "How do ya wanna do this?" I question, pulling my crossbow off my back. "Flamin' arrow?"
"I was thinkin' rocket launcher," Daryl answers, holding one up.
"What'd y'all do, break into Fort Knox?"
Daryl barks out a laugh, then gestures towards me. "Would you like to do the honors?"
"Ooh, I kinda wanna blow shit up, but it is your rocket launcher," I answer.
"I already blew shit up," Daryl tells me. "Your turn."
"If you insist," I say with a shrug, trading weapons with him. The lake sets on fire the second the grenade hits the water, and Daryl and I stand in silence on top of the truck, watching the fire, and the walkers drawn to it. "It's working."
Daryl wraps his arm around my shoulders before jumping down, handing me my crossbow back after I pull out my switchblade. Daryl draws his knife, and together, we start forward, continuing the counter attack against the dead. We fight, ignoring the blood splattering on our faces, ignoring everything but the dead in front of us. Everything but our target.
"You missed it, Carl," I whisper to him, gently running my fingers through his hair. "You shoulda seen it. All of us, we were there, fightin' 'em. Together. And Glenn and Daryl, they're back. Daryl showed up with a rocket launcher, you know that? We blew up the lake."
"You saved this place," Rick says, speaking for the first time in a while. He looks up at me. "You and Daryl, you saved this place."
"We never coulda done it without the rest of y'all fightin'. It ain't nothin' special."
"Is that so?" Rick questions, and I nod once. He lays off the subject, and we slip back into silence. After a while, he breaks it, saying, "I was wrong." I look up at him, wondering what he means. "I thought after livin' behind these walls for so long that… maybe they couldn't learn. But today, I saw what they could do. What we could do, if we work together."
I look down at Carl, still unconscious on the bed beside me, as I thread my fingers through his free hand, removing it from where it rests on his chest. "We'll rebuild the walls," Rick continues, and I stay quiet, knowing now that he's speaking to Carl. "We'll expand the walls. There'll be more. There's gotta be more. Everything Deanna was talkin' about is possible. It's all possible. I see that now. When I was out there, with them, when it was over, when I knew we had this place again, I had this feeling. It took me a while to remember what it was." His voice shakes as he continues. "Because I haven't felt it since before I woke up in that hospital bed." Rick rests his hand on Carl's head, his fingers brushing mine as he gently pushes his son's hair out of his face. "I want to show you the new world, Carl. I want to make it a reality for you. Please, Carl… let me show you. Please."
I close my eyes, hanging my head as I silently beg Carl to wake up, to live. For Rick, for Judy, Michonne, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, for all of us. For me. Please, Carl. Just live. Show me a sign, anything. You don't gotta wake up, not yet. Just show me a sign.
I open my eyes slowly as I feel his hand gripping mine. He holds on tightly, as if he's afraid to let go. "I'm here, Carl," I whisper. "I'm right here. I ain't goin' nowhere." I lean down, pressing my lips to his forehead. "C'mon, please. Open those baby blues for me."
