Part 14: Plan B

The trek from the railroad tracks couldn't have been more than two miles, but the man was dragging. He had fought his way through a small herd of dead ones and while dodging a larger herd, tripped, and tore a sizable slash in his side. Fighting had always been a part of his life, but since the world changed, the score was uneven. Balance ceased to exist. He patted the revolver at his hip, and the blood-splattered ax at his thigh swung with each step. A heavier burden weighed on his back in the canvas knapsack he carried. He had protection. Shelter was what he lacked. For days or maybe weeks, he had walked the forest alone, but now voices drifted toward him. The weight of the weapons and sharp pain in his side reminded him that hallucinations were not plaguing him. He stopped behind the trunk of a wide oak and waited.

A brown-skinned woman with long braided hair and two boys, one with a big brown hat, ran in single file past him. He got his bearings and followed, picking up the pace despite his injuries. A clearing appeared ahead and a single story nondescript building sat in the center. Three vehicles and a Harley were parked out front. He lost sight of the trio, but he wagered on revealing himself despite the new tendency to avoid strangers.

Just as he made about 200 feet, a black woman with locs and a sword came into view. A white man with a tire iron stood several yards away on the opposite end, and the white boy with the sheriff's hat leveled a pistol straight at his head.

"No harm," the man whispered, raising his hands, as his legs grew tired and he dropped to his knees. "C-come in peace."

"Drop the ax," the woman said.

He obeyed and the weapon landed on the dry ground with a soft thud.

"Got a gun, too," the man with the tire iron said.

"Drop it."

He did.

"He followed us from the woods," the kid said. "It's him."

"He's bleeding," the woman pointed to the man's side. "Were you bit?"

"No. Fell on a rock," he said. "No bite marks. You can check."

He moved to lift his shirt, but the effort winded him. Actually, the running had been too much. He became woozy. His eyes drifted and without his permission, he fell face first into the dirt. When he woke up, he was flat on his back with his wrists and ankles tied. The knapsack and his other weapons were gone. A ceiling was above him and a hard floor rested beneath him. He heard voices again, agitated voices that hinted at frustration and anger.

"Should've been back by now."

"We can't just leave him here."

"We can't take him with us."

"Someone has to stay."

"I'll do it."

"No, go with Michonne. I'll stay."

"Hell no. No way I'm leaving you alone with him."

"I'm fine. Besides, he's hurt and tied up. Go with her. Don't waste anymore time."

"The boys will stay—"

"Nope. Take 'em."

"Carl can go. I'm staying with you."

"But—"

"Dad would want me to. I want to."

"Found rockets and a launcher in the backpack."

"We're taking it."

He tried to turn toward the voices, but the ache hadn't lessened. And the ways his wrists were tied, twisting was not an option. They were nearby but not close enough to see. He tried to distinguish personalities by tone and content, but his instincts were failing him. The only thing clear was a strong sense of urgency and an intense distrust of him. Another wave of dizziness came on and he closed his eyes to ward off the worst. Moments later, he felt the warmth of a body next to his but not touching him and a cool, wet cloth wiping his face.

He willed his eyes to open and he saw her peering down at him. A pretty brown face with piercing dark eyes. He murmured, "Cassie."

"No," she said gently. "Is she your wife?"

He blinked. His focus cleared and he saw that her complexion was a shade darker than the woman he had loved and lost. "No, she wasn't. Can you let me out of these? I'm losing circulation."

"No can do." She shook her head. "The gash has been stitched and bandaged. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll live. We have water and some food to spare."

"My hands are tied—"

"And they'll stay that way," said the white guy. The tire iron hung at his belt loop. A scowl darkened his brow. He glanced at the woman in a way to hint that they shared some kind of history. Maybe not sexual, but something. "I'm not sure about this."

"We'll be fine. The ties are secure," she said. "You won't try anything stupid. Will you…?"

"You want my name?" the man asked. "I'm trussed like a pig for slaughter and you want my name."

"We're wasting time," the darker-skinned woman said. She pulled her sword free of its sheath and brushed past the white guy.

"Dean!" the man said in a rushed breath. "Dean Winchester."

"Dean?" the woman at his side repeated. "There's Michonne, Lorenzo, Carl, and Dominik."

"And you?"

"Dawn," she said. "Why did you follow us?"

"Hungry. Tired. The usual. You looked clean. You had food."

"It's past noon," Carl said.

"What happened at noon?" Dean asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," Michonne said, her gaze wary as she stared at him.

"Maybe I can help," he said, tugging at his wrists, "if you get these off."

"Not gonna happen," Lorenzo said. He glared at Dawn. His tight jaw revealed that he held in a lot more.

"I'm a good fighter," Dean added. "Fought off a herd. Another one's coming. I saw them. This place may be safe, but maybe not where you're headed. I can help."

"No," Michonne said. "We're wasting time."

"Dawn?" Lorenzo said.

"Go!" Dominik added. "Please, Uncle. We'll be fine."

Lorenzo nodded. Michonne and Carl left the room, but Lorenzo lingered, his stare fixed on Dean. "They will be the same as we've left them or I swear, when I'm done with you, you'll wish that walkers had found you first."

"No harm will come to them," Dean said. "You have my word."

$%^&

Michonne registered Lorenzo's distraction. It was understandable that he didn't feel comfortable leaving his family with a stranger, but she had no doubt that Dawn and her son could handle themselves. The Cassidy family wasn't like the shrinking violets who pissed in their panties at the first sign of trouble. Women couldn't stand around, shaking and crying, waiting for their man or any man to step up to play protector. A smart woman learned how to do the deed for herself. Michonne had seen Dawn wield her ax without hesitation. Leaving her behind to stand watch over Winchester and their sanctuary had been the right call. Lorenzo needed to walk it off. Michonne would give him until Terminus. Then his head had better be in the game or he'd have her to answer to.

"They'll be fine," Carl said. "Don't worry."

"I'm not," Lorenzo said, but the words sounded so false that he looked at them both and grimaced. "Maybe I am. I can't help it."

"We get it," Michonne said.

"What do you think we'll find there?" Carl asked, his voice low.

"If it was good, they would've come back for us," she stated. "You know that."

The boy sighed. "I know."

"Rick is strong," she added. "So are the rest of them."

They walked the next half-mile in silence. Dry leaves crackled beneath their footsteps. The trail their friends had left was faint, but distinct enough to follow. Designated signs led them to a soft mound of dirt and leaves where a small arsenal had been buried.

"Dad's machete."

"Leave it," Michonne said. "We'll take what we need and know that we have more if necessary."

No sooner than she had handed the AK-47 to Lorenzo and agreed to Carl taking the Colt then the rat-a-tat-tat of rapid gunfire filled the quiet afternoon. Lorenzo quickly kicked dirt over the duffel bag that contained the weapons. With a faint nod, the trio raced toward the noise.

The former rail station was a mass of confusion. People were running a stampede like wild animals. Michonne searched faces but recognized no one until the familiar shape of a crossbow came into view. Then she saw Daryl with his hand firmly attached to Sasha's. A tall brown-skinned male led them amid the chaos, away from the running group into a line of discarded railcars.

Michonne pointed with her katana. "We go that way."

Careful to avoid discovery, the three scaled the fence and landed inside the so-called sanctuary. The running residents were not as difficult to avoid as Michonne had first imagined. They appeared to be involved in a drill or maybe they were headed toward the gunfire. Michonne was curious about that, too, but having seen Daryl and Sasha, they were her main priority.

She felt Carl and Lorenzo right at her back. With the crowd moving against them, only the odd shape of Daryl's crossbow allowed her to keep track of him and Sasha. Just a few yards separated them. Months ago, she and Daryl had worked out a series of whistles. The high-pitched tones helped worked better than yelling while they searched the back roads for the governor. Despite being slightly winded, she released one of the calls through tightly pursed lips.

He stopped while Michonne and her followers continued to run toward them. When the two groups reunited, Daryl muttered, "It ain't no sanctuary."

"We figured that," Michonne said.

"Where's my dad?"

"And my brother?" Lorenzo added.

"We're not sure," Daryl said.

"They gotta be in one of the holding cells," the tall black young man said. "We gotta hope it's that."

"Who're you?" Michonne asked.

"Noah," Sasha said. "Michonne, Carl, and Lorenzo. He's taking us to the women."

"Just the women?" Lorenzo asked. "They separate by gender?"

Daryl gave a curt nod. "Yeah."

"We'd better hurry," Noah said. "I don't know what they're shooting at, but I know it can't be good."

$%^&

When Daryl heard the whistle, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was bad enough that the four of them had been locked into the shithole of Terminus. He had some hope for Michonne and Carl and the remaining Cassidy clan that they'd get out alive. He squeezed Sasha's hand. Whatever happened next, he would go out fighting. He had to for his family and for his woman.

His woman.

He shook his head. Never saw that coming, but there it was. As if reading his mind, Sasha tugged on him, pulling him into the entrance of yet another warehouse. Although she hadn't said much, her hope to find her brother somewhere inside one of these walls was strong. If Daryl could, he'd spare her any disappointment. Everyone split after the prison fell. If Tyrese was lucky, he never saw the Terminus signs and he didn't remember the radio broadcast that came through during their run for meds right before they lost everything. Daryl hoped they would find Tyrese on the other side of this hellhole.

"It's one room over," Noah said, his voice low, just above a whisper.

"How do you know the exact location?" Sasha asked.

"Gareth doesn't see me as a threat because of my bum leg," he said with a shrug. "I bring the women food. Escort them to the showers."

"How long have you been here?" Michonne asked.

"Long enough to know I can't stay," Noah said. "Daryl's right. It's not a sanctuary."

"What is it?" Carl asked.

"Hell."

Noah stepped first into the darkened hall. A small square window from the far wall provided just enough sunlight. He fumbled in his pocket for a set of keys. Before he unlocked the door, he rapped his knuckles against the frame in a coded series. A familiar voice called from the other side.

"Noah?"

"Beth!" Carl stepped to the door.

Michonne quickly pulled him close. "Wait!"

"It's me—"

"Who's with you?" Beth asked, interrupting Noah. "You're not alone."

"No, I have friends. It's okay. Don't be scared," Noah said. "Today's the day."

As Noah unlocked the door, Daryl found himself holding his breath. Beth waited on the other side of that door. She had been found. She wasn't lost forever. Sasha squeezed his hand and then her grip loosened, but he wouldn't let her go. Noah pushed the door open. Beth stood in the center of the room, her round eyes were wide and disbelieving. But she was there and alive.

"Oh my God," she gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. "How did you…? Michonne…Carl…Sasha…Daryl. Is Maggie okay? Glenn? Where's Rick?"

"We don't have time," Michonne said. "We have to go."

"The shooting has stopped," Lorenzo said quietly.

"Do you know where the men are kept?" Michonne asked Noah.

"Some of them," he said. "They move them around…for different reasons. I know places we can check."

"We'd betta get a move on then," Daryl said. He smiled at Beth. "You made it."

"Not quite," she murmured.

"You're not dead," he said. "C'mon."

$%^&

Sasha refused to allow herself to think about Tyrese. The need to find him had intensified the moment Daryl's eyes lit at the sound of Beth's voice. She refused to let herself dwell on that either. He still had a strong grip on her hand, and every time she tried to set him free, he held her tighter. No, she would not think about things that caused her emotions to conflict with common sense. Terminus was no sanctuary and they needed all of their wits to get the group back together and get the hell out. Allowing feelings in now was a setup for failure. If Sasha prided herself on anything, it was her ability to succeed despite whatever was stacked against her.

"This way!" Noah ran. His limp offered a mild hindrance. Still the young man navigated them through the maze of abandoned railcars like a tour guide at a museum. He had not missed one turn. Sasha guessed that he been planning this exit for weeks.

At the end of one long line of railcars, he stopped. The sound of chaos had changed. The frenzy had a different tone. Sasha couldn't place it, but she sensed that the difference would not bode well for them. Daryl finally released her hand to ready to his crossbow. He gestured with his chin for the others to draw their weapons. She noticed that everyone was already of the same accord, except for Beth and Noah who were weaponless. Noah flattened against the railcar wall, easing himself down low to peer around the corner.

"Shit!" he whispered, quickly sliding back to face them. "They're heading back from the fences. Looks like they're running a search."

"For me?" Beth asked.

Noah shrugged. "Could be. I don't know."

"Need a distraction," Daryl muttered. He grabbed a bolt and moved it into place.

"Wait," Lorenzo said. "Michonne's got something better."

Michonne handed Carl the katana and tugged the knapsack open in one fluid motion. She had no idea why Dean Winchester had rockets and a launcher, nor did she care. Her hands were steady, as she put the contraption together. Now she needed a match and a target.

"Winchester saw a herd," Michonne said. "We smelled them. They're headed this way."

"Get their fences and they're off our asses," Daryl said.

"I saw a gas tank near the fence—"

"Where?" Michonne asked, cutting Sasha off.

"Come on," Sasha said. "I'll show you."

Daryl frowned.

"We'll see you on the other side," Sasha promised.

"Find the others," Michonne said gently. "We got this."

Daryl nodded slowly. He reached into his pocket before taking Sasha's hand again. One final squeeze and a Bic lighter rested in her palm.

Sasha grabbed the knapsack and the katana, and the two women headed back in the direction they had come. Sasha couldn't look back. One look and Daryl would be at her side. That much she knew, but the others needed him. He was smart and quick. After the explosion, hell would break loose and they'd need Daryl to navigate the crazy to find Rick, Nik, and the rest of their group.

"Which way?" Michonne asked in a harsh whisper.

Sasha led them to the cover of another railcar. From this distance, Michonne had a perfect shot at the tank and the railcar should help them remain steady during the worst of the blast. Sasha handed over Daryl's lighter. Michonne aimed the missile and lit the fuse.

The rocket carried through the wind amid a piercing whistle. The women braced themselves against the car, squatted low, and covered their ears. Despite her career as a firefighter, Sasha had never seen such a magnificent array of flames. Walkers and the living alike careened from the force of the explosion. The shaking ground made her heart pound. She looked at Michonne to remind herself that this was real and that they were alive.

"Let's go," Michonne said, grabbing her arm and tugging them both upright.

The chaos of before did not compare to the madness created by the rocket launcher nailing its target. Screams echoed around them. The stench of walkers grew stronger, so they picked up the pace. Sasha's instincts told her to head toward building-A and the women ran at full speed in that direction.

$%^&

"It's a good lock," Rick said, kneeling at the doorknob, "but it's not a deadbolt."

He used the prong from his belt to work the tumblers inside the keyhole. With his ear pressed against the knob and the cooperation of his silent companions, Rick heard the exact moment his plan worked. He stood, unlocked the door, and eased it open. Seconds later, the ground shook violently. Plaster splattered to the floor.

"Come on!" Rick yelled.

They ran through the darkened corridors. Rick followed the light that cast a faint glow along the floorboards. Soon, they reached the entry way and the open door.

"Sonuvabitch," Abraham muttered. "Did the fucker explode?"

"Grab whatever you can," Rick advised.

He and Glenn broke the legs off chairs. Nik, Abraham, and Bob did the same. Eugene followed close behind when they ran outside. Smoke hung heavy in the air. The stench of walkers mingled with the acrid scent of gasoline and gunfire. Rick pulled his t-shirt over his mouth and nose and ran into the open courtyard. Gunfire pierced the air, but for a change, Rick and his family weren't the target. Walkers had Terminus under attack. Rick guessed the explosion had set the sanctuary up as a buffet for the closest herd. If he could only get his hands on a gun…

"Rick!"

He stopped short at Daryl's call. The sight of Carl made Rick's heart pound. Why did noon have to come so quickly? And if Carl was there, where was Michonne?

"C'mon!" Daryl yelled, waving his arm. "We ain't got much time."

"Michonne?"

"She's comin'!" Daryl said.

"We gotta find Maggie," Glen said. "I'm not leaving without her."

"Rosita, too," Abraham barked.

Rick nodded. "We're not leaving without everybody."

They ran toward Daryl's group. Two walkers came from nowhere. One lay claim to Eugene while the other focused on Bob. Abraham moved swiftly to protect his charge. Glenn swung the chair leg hard on the base of the walker's skull, freeing Bob from its grip.

"Bit?" Glenn asked.

Bob breathed hard as he shook his head. "Not scratched either."

"We need guns!" Rick said, as they continued their run. As soon as they reached their friends, Carl pressed the Colt into his father's hands. Rick offered his son a faint smile.

"Where's Dawn?" Nik asked, accepting the AK47 from his brother. "Dom?"

Lorenzo frowned. "They stayed behind at the preserve."

"Are they okay?" Nik asked.

"They're fine—"

"What's wrong?" Nik persisted.

"Nothing. Someone had to stay so they volunteered—"

"We can save the warm and fuzzy fucking family reunion for when bullets aren't whizzing past our ears and the dead ones aren't chomping on our asses," Abraham cut in. "I gotta find my woman. So does Glenn."

"So do I," Rick and Daryl stated quietly, but loud enough that both men heard the other.

"Sometimes they use another railcar as a holding area," the tall black kid said.

"Who the fuck are you?" Abraham said. "You're one them, ain't you?"

"No."

"He's Noah," Daryl said, stepping between the kid and the beefy redhead. "He's with us."

"Where's the railcar?" Rick asked.

Noah waved his hand and the men followed. Rick reached Beth. He gave her the chair leg and briefly squeezed her shoulder. "We'll find Maggie."

She nodded.

Although Noah claimed the lead, Rick led the group through the onslaught of walkers. Gunfire continued to rain around them. Through the clouds of dust and gun blasts, he searched for signs of Michonne and Sasha. But the mass of everything—people and walkers—was too much. Finally, Noah pointed toward a trio of railcars. Abraham, Glenn, and Bob ran to check them while Rick, Daryl, Nik, Lorenzo, Carl, and Beth guarded the perimeter. Eugene stood scared and trembling.

"Got 'em!" Abraham bellowed.

Then the men returned with three women. Rick recognized Maggie, but the other brunettes were strangers. The women had makeshift weapons that they must have created inside the railcar. He nodded at Maggie in acknowledgment. A stronger welcome would happen later. Daryl nudged him.

"C'mon."

They pushed on, fighting when necessary and dodging when it was the best option. In the back of Rick's mind, he wondered about Gareth, but Michonne's whereabouts had top precedence. Soon the fence came into view. He waved for the others to go. Carl protested, but Rick refused to budge.

"Go!" He told his son. "Stay with Glenn and Maggie. Take them to the preserve."

Nik and Lorenzo offered to stay, too, but Rick declined their offer. From Lorenzo's relieved expression, Rick wondered if he had missed something. There was no time to ask. Everyone left and only Daryl and Rick remained.

"We'll find 'em," Daryl stated.

"What if they're already over the fence?" Rick said as they both started running back through the crowds headed toward them.

"Michonne wouldn't leave without you."

Rick nodded. "Sasha wouldn't leave you either."

As they worked their way back, Rick realized that most of the Terminus residents were now walker buffet or a part of the walker stampede. A few yards ahead, he thought he caught a glimpse of Gareth's dark hair and lanky form. Movement of others altered Rick's view, and he couldn't be sure. Then he spotted long dark braids and the glint of steel coming toward them.

"There she is," he said.

"I see 'em."

The reunion was quick. The two couples headed for the fences without harm to themselves, but Rick lost count of the number of walkers they killed. Once they climbed over the fence, Rick couldn't stop himself from holding Michonne close. He noticed that Daryl was the same with Sasha.

"What did you do?" he asked. His fingers dug into her waist as he resisted the urge to hold her tighter. "That explosion was you, wasn't it?"

"Sasha helped," Michonne said, a faint smile at her full lips.

"Where did you find explosives?" Rick asked.

Michonne said, "About that…"

They checked the dirt patch for the duffel of weapons and then began the trek back to the wildlife preserve. Rick shouldered the bag. His other hand took hold of Michonne's.

"Were explosives at the preserve?"

"Dawn stayed behind to watch the new guy," Michonne said. "We acquired it from him."

"You just left her and Dom with a stranger?" Sasha asked.

"He's tied up."

"Nik won't care," Daryl said, quietly. "May be a problem when we get back."

"I'll handle it—"

"She chose to stay," Michonne cut in, interrupting Rick. "Besides if Nik takes issue, I'll talk to him."

Rick nodded.

"I will," she insisted.

Rick smiled. Her responding glare made him chuckle. The time at Terminus was less than half a day. He and his people had been through bad situations. This one had felt like one of the worst. One day, the craziness had to stop. There had to be place where they could just be. All of them needed that.

"You're a real firecracker now," Daryl said to Sasha.

"Don't start," she said, but there was a smile in her voice.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Rick enjoyed the sounds of nature, rustling leaves, the few scurrying squirrels, and the feel of Michonne's hand against his. When the single-story building came into view, the four of them paused. Everyone milled around outside, waiting for them. For a fleeting moment, Rick had entertained the possibility of returning to Terminus and ending it all, but seeing his group changed his mind. The future was before him. Terminus and all the other bullshit that had happened to them was in the past. He had to learn how to let shit go.

"What next?" Michonne asked.

"We find a real sanctuary," Rick said, "or we make our own."

The next steps to their family and friends were both the longest and the shortest steps that Rick could remember taking, but they made it.

[A/N: Thanks for reading, favoriting, following, kudo-ing, and reviewing. An unforeseen medical emergency put an immediate halt to writing in March and I'm just now able to write again, but there are limits. With that said, I appreciate your patience and welcome everyone who's new to the story.

Hallelujah, the Terminus arc is over! I can say with some certainty that future events will take a slight detour from the series. Father Gabriel may or may not show up. I haven't decided, yet. The events at Grady Memorial Hospital won't be a part of this universe. Some characters may meet adventures (death even) that are not similar to the comics or the series. Be warned that this fic will be a long one. The other fics set in ASZ will be much shorter than this. I hope to work on them soon. Again, thanks for your reading and especially for your patience. Dean Winchester may not be the last crossover, but for those in the SPN fam, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the addition. I'd love to hear them even if you're not.

Despite the inclusion of most of the family & newcomers, the focus of the fic will continue to revolve around Richonne, Dasha, and the Cassidy clan. I think. ;-)]