With an urgent request for Gareth, Theresa traveled to his pseudo-office that he set up in the back of the facility. When she arrived, she found his door open. Not surprising, as he always wanted to be accessible.

Gareth leaned on the front of his desk, writing on a floppy white notepad he used as a duty roster. As she entered, he glanced up only long enough to see who it was.

"Hey Theresa," Gareth said, scribbling away. Theresa noticed his hair looked different, it was shorter, and he'd pushed his bangs away from his face. She thought it looked good, and didn't know why he didn't push his hair out of his face more often.

"Did I miss morning haircut day?" Theresa asked.

Gareth still didn't look up. "Yep, Kaylee is quite the artist. So what can I do for you?"

"We need to make a run to the pharmacy. The one ways and ways away."

"For?"

"It's about to be shark week for us women and we're fresh out of supplies." Theresa knew she could make any request to Gareth that would make most men uncomfortable and he wouldn't bat an eye.

Gareth flipped the page over. "What about those cups and washable underwear?"

"They only last so long."

"Sure, you have time off today, go for it. And make sure to take Martin."

"Please tell me you're joking."

Gareth bowed down his head and laughed. "Of course." He looked up at her.

"Cruel," she said.

Gareth set the notepad and pen on the desk behind him and rested his hands on the desk surface. "You've been spending a lot of time with Alex. I have to thank you for taking him off my hands."

Theresa gave a small laugh, but the comment annoyed her. She'd always disliked Gareth's patronizing attitude toward his brother. "It's no trouble."

"We need more of that these days."

"More of what?"

"Any sort of joy from anything other than not being dead or in imminent danger of dying."

Theresa nodded. "Pretty uncommon."

"Wait, who are you taking?" Gareth asked.

"Cynthia."

"Just two of you?"

"No one else wants to go. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, just take good firepower."

"Okay."

Theresa turned, exited Gareth's office and heading toward the room where Alex and Camille had been scheduled to do laundry. She figured Alex would be upset if she left without telling him.

As she arrived and entered the small room, the scent of the cold-wash detergent and dish soap filled the air. Only a bit of the rationed soap remained.

Alex sat next to Camille in front of a table with his hands deep in a sudsy bowl, squeezing at some sort of green fabric.

"Alex?" Theresa called.

"Hey, hi!" Alex smiled wide at the sight of her, the silly grin Theresa loved so much. Theresa and Camille exchanged polite smiles and Theresa gave Alex a come hither motion. Alex got up, dried his hands on a towel, and they slipped back out the door to get privacy..

Alex had been more than patient with Theresa, only kissing her when she initiated and not hugging her too tight. The previous night, Theresa had shown up at Alex's door and proclaimed she was ready to have sex with him. It didn't come easily for her. They sat together for over an hour, Alex slowly introducing Theresa to being touched again. Alex massaged her shoulders, back, and eventually her chest and thighs. Theresa requested they keep their shirts on and that Alex be slow and gentle, he complied. After a while, she became comfortable enough to enjoy his touch and they made love with great passion, falling asleep in each other's arms afterward.

"I'm about to head out," she said.

"My mom's cookin' tonight. Try to be home by then?" Alex brought his hand up from her waist to her shoulder causing the scent of laundry soap to waft up.

"This isn't a girl's night out at Chippendale's, Alex."

He burst out laughing.

"I'm not eager to go on a run, I just want to get this over with," she said.

"Okay, I'll see you then. Be careful."

Theresa always hated being told to be careful, even if it was a simple nicety. Yet she loved Alex's polite demeanor so much that she wasn't bothered.

Alex placed his hands around her waist and pulled her close, leaning in so they could exchange a soft kiss, resting his lips on hers for a few seconds before pulling away. He then stepped back toward the laundry room and they waved goodbye. Theresa inhaled, feeling sated and warm from his caress, and turned to head toward the back of the complex where the cars were kept.

She arrived to see Cynthia leaning against the mid-nineties, blue Dodge wagon they were to take. Cynthia had already collected the supplies they needed for their trip and looked impatient. She had gotten a haircut too—her strawberry blonde hair now rested just below her shoulders.

"We good to go?" Cynthia asked.

"Fantastic to go," Theresa replied.

Cynthia started up the vehicle and the two circled around to the gates as two men opened them for their departure.

Theresa and Cynthia conversed on the way, talking about everything from the weather to Theresa's relationship with Alex.

"Mary said she wants to adopt me as her daughter now," Theresa said. Cynthia laughed.

Mary had been overjoyed to hear Theresa and Alex had become involved romantically as she and Mary had always a special bond. She never forgot the way Mary comforted her and stroked her hair as they sat around the campfire the night after they'd taken Terminus back.

A while later, they arrived at the pharmacy on the edge of a small town. Several walkers staggered around in the parking lot outside. Cynthia and Theresa killed the few with their knives and ventured indoors.

Theresa didn't like the store, she wanted to leave as soon as she set foot inside and she knew Cynthia did too. After the Siege, the many runs they had to make included that shop. Cynthia, Mary, and Theresa had gone to this pharmacy together for a particular reason.

Cynthia, as well as several other women, had become pregnant as a result of their rape and sought out abortifacients. One of the girls had been caught trying to use a wire hanger on herself when Mary stopped her and told her she would go to a pharmacy nearby that carried the abortion pills behind the counter.

The act of ending her pregnancy was especially hard for Cynthia as she had always wanted a child. In the days after she found out, she said she felt as if there was a disease growing inside her and that she wanted to take a knife to her stomach.

Even then, not everyone at Terminus knew several of the women had become pregnant. Gareth had known where and why Theresa, Mary and Cynthia had made the run, but per request told the others it was for standard medications like aspirin. Several people they hadn't intended to tell, however, did find out when they went through the bags the women brought back.

"Hey, what do you think?" Cynthia asked, sporting a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses from a display

Theresa chuckled. "I think you'd look strange knifing a walker while looking like Lolita."

She took the glasses off and placed them in her bag. "Takin' 'em anyway."

The women took the supplies they needed as well as frivolous things like candy and a few pieces of jewelry. Theresa noticed the store looked virtually untouched since they'd last been there.

"Don't look like anyone's been here since us," Cynthia said as she climbed in the driver's seat.

"They might have. It's not like we have a photographic memory of the place," Theresa replied as Cynthia started up the engine.

After getting half of the way back, they spotted a young man, no older than Albert, on the side of the road. He waved his arms and yelled at them as they approached.

"Stop," Theresa said.

"You sure?"

"We can take him back with us."

The rule to ask new arrivals if they would accept cannibalism so far had only gotten two takers. One being Martin, and the other a woman who had said yes before trying to escape a day later. She was corralled immediately when they caught her.

Cynthia turned the car and slowed to the side of the road, coming to a stop beside the young man. He had messy, dark, and slightly wavy hair that matted to his forehead with sweat along with blood and dirt-stained clothes. His only visible weapon was a hammer in his belt loop.

Theresa moved her left hand to grip the handle of her gun, ready to fire on a second's notice. She rolled down her window as the man approached.

"Hey, wow thank you for stopping. Oh god, I've been looking for people, I've been on my own for oh god I..." he stammered.

"Where'd you come from?" Theresa asked.

"All over. I—I lost my camp and I saw a sign for a place called Terminus. It said to follow the tracks, but I can't find them."

"We're from Terminus," Cynthia said.

"Oh my god, really!? Oh, please take me back with you. Please, I won't be any trouble. I promise. You can search me and everything."

Theresa opened her car door, hand still gripping her weapon, and stepped out in front of the man. Cynthia then opened her door and came around to frisk him.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He raised his arms up as Cynthia patted him down. She found no other weapon than the hammer.

"You got a name?" Cynthia asked.

"Riley."

"I'm Cynthia."

"Theresa."

"Super nice to meet you," Riley said.

This kid probably thinks two young women couldn't possibly have ulterior motives. Especially since there's not even anything on him to steal. Theresa considered that to be the only advantage women might have in this world.

"Okay, Riley, if we take you back you're gonna need to give us the hammer," Theresa stated.

The new protocol at Terminus let newcomers keep their weapons as a way to build trust, but there were only two of them. No snipers on roofs and people all around to take him out at the first sign of trouble.

"Oh... okay," Riley agreed, pulling the hammer from his belt loop and handing it to Theresa.

"Get in the back," Theresa said in a voice that sounded more like an order than a request.

Riley complied as Cynthia and Theresa returned to their original places in the vehicle. Theresa placed the hammer on the passenger's seat floor in front of her, left hand still resting on the gun's handle.

"So, how long until we get there?" Riley asked.

"About thirty minutes," Cynthia said.

"How old are you?" Theresa inquired.

"Fifteen. I used to have a family, but they..."

"I'm sorry," Cynthia said.

"It's alright, we've all lost people. Just part of the package," he said.

They exchanged more small talk. Theresa and Cynthia telling rosy tales of Terminus and the great amount of room they had there. Riley became more and more excited with every word.

"How much longer now?" Riley asked.

"About twenty minutes," Theresa replied.

"Oh man, 'cause I really gotta take a leak. Could we stop?" he requested.

Theresa thought it could be a trap. That he might use the opportunity to try to steal their supplies and or car. Before she could react, Cynthia slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. Theresa flashed Cynthia a startled look. Cynthia looked back at her, attempting to convey the words 'trust me' with her eyes.

"Thanks guys." Riley then bolted out of the car and into the woods behind a tree.

"Why did you do that?" Theresa demanded.

"If we told him he couldn't take a leak, what would he think of us then? We gotta build trust, remember?" Cynthia replied. Theresa began to pull the gun from her holster a bit.

Cynthia's eyes grew wide at Theresa's action. "No!"

"It's a precaution. I'm not gonna kill him," Theresa griped.

Martin's divine ability to get under Theresa's skin had soured her to the idea of accepting new people, but this kid reminded her of Albert. She began to wonder if he and Albert could be friends.

Riley then emerged from the woods running from a walker. Theresa whipped out her gun, stepped out of the car and aimed at the walker's head.

"Wait, let me get out of the way!" Riley yelled. He lunged to the side, narrowly avoiding the walker's grasp. Theresa then shot the walker through the head, killing it.

"Oh man, that was a close one. Imagine that, on my way to a nice place and get eaten before I even get there," Riley said as he approached Theresa.

In a swift motion, Riley stepped forward and knocked Theresa's gun from her hand. Riley stumbled down and grabbed it off the ground before Theresa could. He gripped the gun and then raised it at her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to," he said.

Cynthia had emerged from the driver's seat and stopped dead in front of the car at the sight of Riley with Theresa's gun. Cynthia regretted having removed her holster—which contained her weapons—in the car because they had become uncomfortable.

"You seem like nice people, but I can't take that chance, not again. I don't want to hurt you, I'm just gonna take the car okay? I won't go to Terminus. And you seem strong, you can make your way back there. Now raise your hands, both of you." Riley's voice shook with every word.

They both raised their hands as per his command.

Theresa was enraged, feeling like a shaken-up soda can that was about to burst. She wanted to kill Riley.

Riley pointed to the grassy area just before the woods. "Go stand over there."

They began to tread toward the location as Theresa's heart pounded from anger. She couldn't believe this was happening again.

As Theresa moved past Riley, she searched for an opportunity to get her gun back. She didn't see one until a bird squawking in a tree beside them made Riley avert his eyes for a second. Theresa then sprang forward, punching Riley in the face and taking the gun from his hand. He floundered back, almost falling over and immediately raised his hands as Cynthia and Theresa had. Theresa aimed her gun square at Riley's head.

"Please don't kill me. No, no, no please," Riley cried. "I didn't want to hurt you. I thought you'd be okay out here. You could've walked back. I mean, you have that knife."

"You were going to send us out there, two people with one fucking knife!" Theresa spat.

"I'm sorry," he said. Theresa continued staring him dead in the eyes. "Let me go, I'm better off on my own anyway. I'll never go to Terminus, I swear, I promise on my life I won't." His jaw trembled.

Theresa thought about it. It was a different situation. They couldn't let anyone go at Terminus even if they wanted to, lest word get out about what they do. Riley didn't know what they did, but he could be lying, he could go to Terminus. If he showed up there he'd be meat anyway, they'd never let him in after the stunt he just pulled. She figured she might as well make him meat now.

Yet what drove Theresa to want to squeeze the trigger was that he had made her and Cynthia completely helpless, totally at the mercy of a stranger. She hadn't felt that way since the Siege and it infuriated her to feel it again. They would have had to walk miles with only one weapon.

Meanwhile, everyone at Terminus would have worried. And if they'd survived the journey back, they'd have to carry the humiliation of having been car-jacked because they let a fifteen-year old they picked up take a piss.

No, but that wasn't Theresa's doing, that was Cynthia's. Theresa doubted Cynthia would ever do something like that again.

She briefly wondered what Alex would do. He'd kill him, but he certainly wouldn't enjoy it. Theresa, on the other hand, wanted to kill Riley because he'd made her the cattle again.

She pulled the trigger.

Riley jerked back, falling flat on his back. The corner of Theresa mouth twitched upwards a tad as she felt some of her rage alleviate.

Theresa turned to Cynthia. "We couldn't have let him live," she said. Cynthia nodded.

"Come on, let's load him up. More walkers ought to be showing themselves soon." Theresa walked over to the car and opened the back hatch. The two then lifted Riley's body by his legs and shoulders and placed him in the back.

The rest of the drive back was completely silent as Theresa mulled over what just happened, thinking of how she'd explain what happened. It was shameful that he had bested them like that, and she didn't look forward to having to confess it.

When they arrived back, they first went to the back of the car and opened the hatch, revealing to Wilson, one of their resident butchers, Riley's body. Theresa told him, and then Gareth, what had happened.

"Wait, which one of you..." Gareth began to ask who had killed Riley.

"I did," Theresa replied.

Alex embraced Theresa when he found her, telling her how happy he was that she was okay as he led her indoors to get her something to eat.

The rest of the day went on as planned. Mary baked a meatloaf in a wood-burning stove, and after dinner, several people gathered to play poker in the rec room. Theresa enjoyed the recreation after the experience she had, but felt a pressing need to get away to some place quiet. Although, she didn't want to head to bed early lest people think she was upset over what happened.

Once it had become late enough, all she wanted to do was sleep a deep, dreamless sleep. She had begun to venture toward her room when she realized she'd rather sleep in Alex's bed. Arriving at his door, she knocked—no answer. Regardless, she opened the door and stepped in, immediately smelling the scent of clean sheets. It soothed her as she took off her shoes and socks and lay down on his bed first on her back, then turning over on her side facing the door. One of Alex's four pillowcases was a different color than the others. Three were light blue while the other was a pale orange, a terrible color combination. She smiled at the fact that mismatching colors and not caring was so Alex.

She lay there for ten minutes, occasionally turning over while trying not to think of her actions on the road, but it was all she could think of. She'd told no one that she enjoyed killing Riley, although she assumed Cynthia probably knew from the expression she'd seen on her face. Theresa didn't know if she would tell anyone of the blood lust that came over her.

Alex eventually arrived, his face illuminating at the sight of her.

"Theresa, hi!" he beamed, taking off his jacket and tossing it on a chair near the door.

"Can I sleep here with you? Just sleep this time," she requested.

"Yeah of course, I'd love that."

Theresa could tell Alex hadn't expected to find her in his room. Seeing his exuberance at the sight of her filled her chest with a rumbling of heat.

They undressed into their undershirts and underwear and climbed into bed together. Theresa spooned Alex from behind, burying her face against the back of his neck. Alex fell asleep almost instantly, and Theresa soon did the same.

Before dawn, she awoke from a dream about Riley. One where he showed up at Terminus with a dusk sky in the background shaded with orange from the sunset, the kind of sunset Alex liked to draw. Riley shook the fence and screamed her name over and over with great anger, more rage filling his voice with each repeat of her name.

She hadn't personally killed any of their meals before, she didn't think it would effect her so much. After all, the butchers never seemed too bothered. She'd killed living people before, but only out of self-defense and necessity. This act felt different than luring people into their trap and killing them. They did that because it was imperative and they were always given a choice. Theresa didn't give Riley a choice.

She wondered again if Riley could have made friends with Albert.

Theresa didn't feel guilt over killing Riley in the way most would expect. She was stuck on the fact that she'd changed beyond recognition. Gareth always said spending too much time mourning the person you used to be was dangerous, she knew this. And she repeated the 'butcher or the cattle' and 'lion or the antelope' mantras of Terminus in her head to remind her.

Theresa was awake, very awake. She had the sudden desire to get up and go outside, the traincar where the last two Occupiers were housed in mind. Her violent impulse returned from when she fired her gun into Riley's head.

Theresa and Alex had reversed positions in their sleep, and Alex now held Theresa from behind. It discomforted her that not even the blissful feeling of heat emanating from someone she thought she was probably in love with could quell her aggressive desires.

Carefully removing herself from his grasp, she moved over to her pants that she'd discarded on the chair, and pulled them on along with her shoes and socks. She put on Alex's coat as she didn't want to go all the way to her room to retrieve her own.

What her intention was while traveling to the traincar where the last two thugs were, she didn't know. But she knew she intended to do something. She didn't have a weapon on her, and probably couldn't barge in there and kill them. Although maybe she could pound on the outside like Cynthia sometimes did and scream at them. She wasn't sure, but the anger at those who had taken advantage of her was still burning and she wanted to do something to put it out.

The outside air was crisp and cold, causing her to zip-up Alex's jacket. She made it to the traincar to see someone leaning their back against the side of it with their foot pressed against it. As she came closer, she saw it was Martin. She let out an exasperated sigh, wanting to do whatever it was she was going to do alone.

Martin spotted her before she could avoid him. "What are you doin' out here?"

"I needed air," she lied.

"I'm on a break from the graveyard shift," Martin said.

Theresa considered skulking around until Martin's break was over and then returning to the traincar. She was conspiring and knew whatever she was going to do, it would be bad.

"Hey, thanks for okay-ing me in. I was worried you'd never do it." Martin turned to face Theresa, now leaning on his shoulder.

"It was no problem."

"So you decided I wasn't a rapist?" Martin asked.

Theresa wondered if Martin had guessed her worries or had been told. "Yes."

"It's alright, I'm not offended. You were just bein' cautious. It's smart."

Theresa crossed her arms, her pants were too thin to keep her legs warm, and the cold was unforgiving.

"What about that kid on the road? You think he'd have said okay to all this if he hadn't tried to car-jack you?" Martin seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Maybe," Theresa said.

"Had you ever killed any of our meat supply before?" Martin asked.

"No." The next question left her mouth before she could think, "Have you ever killed anyone you absolutely didn't have to?"

"You didn't have to kill the kid did you?"

"He begged for his life, said he'd never come to Terminus."

"Hm."

"You didn't answer my question."

Theresa didn't know why she was out there at five in the morning attempting to have a heart-to-heart to Martin, but she figured it might decrease the chance of her opening the traincar and killing the last two Occupiers with her bare hands.

"A guy once took off with my bag of supplies," Martin began, "it had two squirrels, three nectarines, a box of bullets, bottle of creek water, and a change of clothes. I chased him through the woods, tackled him, threw a few punches at him, and got my shit. We got up and he froze in front of me for a few seconds. He didn't pull a weapon on me or try to get my stuff back, he just stood there, and so did I.

"Then a biter came outta nowhere and I grabbed the guy and pushed him at the thing. It tore into his neck and I backed away a few feet and watched for a few seconds. Then I hauled ass back off to where I'd been resting. He probably wasn't much older than the kid you killed."

"Were you alone then?" Theresa asked.

Martin nodded. "Right after my first group had all bit the dust."

"Did you feel bad?"

"I was so fucked up from losing everyone I ever cared about and he made me so fucking mad that I didn't care enough to care that I didn't care."

"Do you care now?"

"It was a long time ago."

"Not that long."

"A day is a month nowadays," Martin said as he lifted himself from the side of the traincar. "Well, my break's over, have a nice night or morning or whatever," he said as he began toward the far side of the complex.

Theresa realized she was shivering from the cold. Still standing in place, she pondered what to do next. The overpowering need to get back at those who had made her feel like nothing but a usable object had faded. She then realized she was exhausted, her eyes burning, and her cold limbs aching for a warm bed.

She turned around and headed back to Alex's room, wanting nothing more than to heat her icy skin. She arrived to find that Alex hadn't moved at all from when she left him. She quickly discarded her extra clothes and climbed back into bed with him.

A day is a month nowadays. Martin's words echoed in her head.

She hadn't thought of it in those terms before. She and everyone there at Terminus had had to change so radically and so quickly, that days did seem like months. Before the turn, it would take people years or even decades to change in the way she and they had to in such a short time.

In a week, it'll have been seven months since I happily pulled the trigger and killed that fifteen year-old boy. And maybe by then it won't matter anymore. Maybe I'll have changed so much in that time that like Martin said, I won't even care enough to care that I don't care.