Disclaimer: I own nothing.

– – –

Nevaeh checked the temperature of the men while they slept, sighing softly to herself and moving to Daryl. She tried to call them numbers, call them by hair color, call them by anything other than their human given name, but she couldn't. She couldn't separate them. They were men. They were husbands or boyfriends. They were friends. They had families. One of them was...about to become a father of his own choosing. Another had taken in a child, who, while she looked like his wife, wasn't his or hers. The bone structure didn't match, but they were as much parents and family as she and her own daughter.

Her eyes fell on Daryl. He hadn't been sleeping, and despite the drugs they'd forced into him, he still didn't look rested. He had dark bags under his eyes, his cheekbones were accentuated in the worst way due to the broth diet Pentaghast kept them on to keep them alive but unable to fight back. His hair had been chopped off past his ears, bruises marred his body from the pressure of those who held him down forcing the haircut onto him. He looked less like a human and more like a human shaped blueberry muffin. The scars didn't help his case either.

She brushed her fingers gently over the shaved tips of his once long hair and down his bumpy cheek to his swollen jaw. Someone likely had accidentally or purposefully hit him during that. She doubted it hurt unless it was poked at, so she moved her hand and parted his lips to check his temperature. She wrote down the normal results and was about to leave when she heard movement. Legs against the material of the sheets.

"That's the fourth time in, what? Four days?" It was Daryl. He wasn't sleeping, and she wasn't surprised.

"Five," she corrected.

"Five days..." He rolled his head to the side. "What's she waitin' for?"

"I honestly don't know. Her...plans change with the winds." She gripped the clipboard in her arms. "Perhaps the prospect of a forever home is throwing her off. I can't really say, though. It's just speculation. I was... I'm not too close to Pentaghast nor am I trusted with her plans. I only hear it from the grapevine."

"So, you're not loyal to her then?"

"I'm loyal to one person and one person only." She didn't make any effort to look at him, for fear of her truth, of her weakness and heart, being revealed.

"Your kid."

She shuddered and steadied her voice. "What makes you think I have a child?"

"The way you take care of us, the way you touch my wounds," he replied. "It's a mother's touch. I know...some mothers who have that touch."

"Humph. Cute, but incorrect."

"You're no lair, Doc."

She bit her bottom lip.

"You ain't loyal to her, so why help her? She's dangerous. She's moody and insane. She could kill you simply because you're lookin' at her wrong. Or she could kill your little girl. You won't ever be safe with her alive."

"You don't think I know?"

"You sure as hell aren't doin' anything about it."

"What can I do?" She whirled around. "I'm no fighter. I barely have the strength to restrain a man who's squirming from the pain of his wounds. And the one time I did try to rebel, I nearly lost my life. Had my daughter not stood up for me, I wouldn't be here. I'm not going to risk her again. I don't care what happens to me. She is everything, and if I can keep that little monster happy then I can keep my daughter alive. I don't like it. In fact, I hate that a child not even half my age believes she can control me... But...then again, she can't, can't she? With the wave of her little pinkie, she could have me killed for real, and my daughter might be next. I need to be here to ensure that doesn't happen."

"Or...you could let us go, and we can ensure she won't kill anybody ever again. You and your girl would be free and together."

"It's not that simple. It's you three against an army. They have your weapons, your people, your medicine. You have nothing, not even clothes on your back."

He smirked. "You've thought this through."

"I always do, but dreams are for children." She stepped back. "You might as well stop trying to fight. Maybe...one day...she'll believe you're compliant and let you loose to be with your child... Perhaps then you could make your move."

"One day? Maybe?" He shook his head. "I don't have time for maybes and certainly not for one days. The only child I want to be around is the one that I have no clue how its doin'. My kid is in the same boat as yours, only your daughter can fight—mine can't. Its unborn and vulnerable. Please, you gotta let me go. Before she can hurt my kid, before she kills the woman I...I love. Please."

"Your child's a girl?" Nevaeh's eyes lifted.

"I don't know, but if you don't help me, I won't ever know. I'm beggin' ya here. I have...nothin' else, no plans, no moves, no cards up my sleeve. I'm...desperate and terrified. I'm...just a father tryin' to protect his family, please."

Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and she stepped back again. "Daryl..."

"Please."

"I—I'm sorry. I can't. I just—can't." She hurried out of the room.

He let his head fall back onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling, feeling his own eyes burning. He couldn't even struggle anymore. His wrists were wrapped to cover the wounds his bindings inflicted, his body was heavily drugged, and he was exhausted. He was truly out of move. He had no cards up his sleeve. Hell, he didn't even have sleeves. And he even less hope. Fuck all.

Glenn swallowed, his throat dry, his lips cracking and hard to part due to lack of water. They weren't given any through the night, but he had to speak. "How many times...does that make it now?"

"About ten."

He nodded and dragged his teeth over his lip, feeling his teeth catch on the cracks, even opening one. He could taste the blood. "We'll just...have to...make our move...when they come for us."

"We'll give 'em hell," Daryl agreed.

Glenn smiled and peered over at Daryl. "Maggie and Carol...are gonna give them more...hell than they can handle."

"Don't count Eric out," Aaron mumbled.

Daryl chuckled. "'Course not."

"He's one hell of a shot," Aaron smirked, eyes shut.

"Wrapped up in one non-threatening, vest-wearing package," Glenn retorted.

Aaron laughed. "Wait till I tell him that. He'll kick your ass."

"He gets us out of here," Glenn promised, "and I'll let him."

Aaron smiled weakly, though his eyes burned, his heart ached. The thought of escaping these bindings and winning with how things were now seemed implausible. False dreams and false hope. They brought such pangs to his heart. He wouldn't let them slip through his fingers, however. They can take his clothes, his hair, but he refused to let them take his hope. That was something he could cling to until the very end.

––

Morgan had guided her deeper into the woods, the frozen forest floor snapped and crunched under their boots, and her wounds began to sting as they ventured on. The day had burned away, leaving only the freezing night and the crescent moon with its vanishing beams.

Then finally they arrived. Morgan instantly tended to Maggie's wounds with what little supplies he had at his makeshift camp, Maggie was given a gun and a staff as he had no knife to offer, and he guided her deeper into the woods. She wasn't dressed for this weather and sadly Morgan had no supplies to offer.

"How did you escape?" Maggie inquired as Morgan handed her a can of sardines to eat.

"I wasn't inside the walls." He'd made a fire to keep Maggie warm. "I'd stepped out. I needed some...time alone."

She didn't press. "And you've been watchin' them?"

"I knew I couldn't take them on. I wouldn't make it through the gate without a bullet to my brain or worse. I had to lie low. Plan." He set his staff across his legs. "I was gonna try and spring y'all from that house. I'd been watching the patrols, and I had it timed, but you beat me to it."

"You don't even have any weapons. How did you expect to win?" She licked the oil from the sardines off her fingers and tossed the empty can to the ground.

"Brute force," he answered. "Numbers. They only have four people near the house. The majority of their numbers are near the armory and the pantry and tending to our crops. They're makin' plans to expand, searchin' for food. I overheard some of their plans."

"What?" Maggie saw him pale.

"I know...about Glenn." He averted his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" Maggie shot up. "What'd they do to him?"

"I don't know the whole story, but they forced them...to undergo some type of baptism. They were dunked into boiling water out in the freezing cold, their hair cut, their fingernails trimmed. They were drugged if they resisted. Which, of course, they did."

"What else?"

"They're makin' their move with them tomorrow. Their leader...the red-haired woman...was yanking Rick and Spencer around by collars. She assigned Rick to Glenn, Spencer to Aaron, and..."

"And?" Maggie pushed.

"Judith...to Daryl." He shook his head. "She's also going to carve out Carol's baby for her own...use."

"What do you mean by that? Assigned? Use? What use? Assigned for what?"

"I don't know. That wasn't brought up. Her voice carries, so I know I didn't miss it."

She clenched her hands into fists. "I'm going to wring her neck."

"So will Rick." Morgan met her eyes. "She had Carl out there. She's...too...close to him."

"She's gonna rape him," Maggie informed him. "And have Glenn, Daryl and Aaron raped too. I don't know why. I don't know her twisted mind, but I don't care. We will stop her. We can't sit in the woods anymore. We have to go. Right now."

He nodded. "It should be here."

"It?" Her brows knitted together.

"You didn't think I dragged you here for sardines, did you?" He smirked and rose. "Put the fire out."

He led her through the darkness to a road, they ducked down behind the trees, and soon yellow light spilled out over the white-tinted road. It was the truck. The one they had hauled the supplies back in. The one Pentaghast had ordered the children be forced into it.

"The kids are in there," Morgan informed her.

"Enid." She jerked forward somewhat but remained hidden.

"We can cut our time back in half once we have the truck," he continued. "It's just the driver."

"Flissa," Maggie nodded, recalling what Roy had said to her. "Leave her to me."

Morgan didn't say anything, but she knew he didn't approve.

The truck came to a stop, the passenger door opened, and the pair exchanged a look. That look burned away into disgust when a body was kicked out of the passenger side door followed by Flissa, who left the truck running, and stepped onto the body as she exited. She lit up a cigarette and bent down, dragging the body out in front of the truck, where they could see a severely beaten up man, who—Maggie noted—looked a lot like Roy.

Flissa smacked his bloody face until his eyes shot open. "Hey, sleeping beauty." She plucked the cigarette out of her lips with her now blood-covered fingers and blew smoke in his face. "We're here." She rose to tower over him.

"Please," he sputtered. "You don't have to do this. P—please."

"How adorable." She took another drag, leaving two bloody fingerprints on her cheek. "Pleading. God, I miss pleading. This group's all hardass and boring. Give me some more."

"It—it was just—just a misunderstanding is all. I assure you."

"A misunderstanding? Wow, you're a shit lair." She reached into her pocket. "But you can't lie through your teeth anymore." She spread her fingers wide and his teeth sparkled in the headlights, still bloody and still containing parts of his gums. He looked at them in horror and would have felt his mouth were his arms not broken. Broken? Flissa thought to herself with a smirk, releasing more smoke. More like shattered. "What's the matter? I know you still got a tongue. Use it. It might get bloody though. It was a real bitch to yank 'em all out, but what can I say? It's been a boring day for me."

"You—you fuckin' psycho!" He spat with such force that blood from his wounds shot out and ran down his lips as he whimpered.

"At least I don't play with little girls." She lifted her boot to his chest. "You and your kind aren't welcome among us."

"Go ahead and kill me. You can't hurt me any worse."

"Wanna bet?" She dropped her cigarette onto his coat and stepped back as he lit up like a newspaper under a candle. Soaking a piece of clothing with gasoline was her favorite move. She jumped over when he tried to flail her way, and she chuckled. "We might kill them, but we don't touch kids. Death is inevitable, prick. Scarring kids that way? That doesn't need to happen."

He only replied with howls of agony.

"You get a little taste of your eternity on earth. Be thankful. Most people don't get that lucky." She turned on her heel to get her pack out of the truck to hike back home. She needed the fresh air and the silence. Maybe she'd kill a few lame brains on the way. If things went as planned tomorrow, she would be off her feet for months and killing wouldn't be allowed, so she might as well get it out of her system now.

However when she turned around, she was met by the small brunette who slammed a thick branch against her skull with a furious roar, and the world went blurry as blood ran down her temple. Morgan went to unlatch the back of the truck, and Maggie thrust the staff down through Flissa's head, panting heavily as her wild eyes met wide, hollow ones. There was no need for a fight, simply an end.

"Maggie." It was Morgan.

She stumbled back and exhaled, spotting Enid stumbling towards her. Her eyes drank in the busted lip, the black eye, the blood on her brow and the blood staining her top. It wasn't her blood—on her shirt anyway—and judging by Flissa's words, it was that burning asshole's blood. Enid was one of the kids he tried to mess with.

"Oh, God." Maggie ran over to her and caught her before she collapsed onto the ground, embracing her tightly, and smiling against her hair. "Enid."

"Maggie." Enid gripped her shoulder blades tightly.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm right here." She stroked her hair. "You're safe, and we'll make them pay for it. I promise."

Morgan checked on the other kids to give them a moment, and he moved to the front to find a bag on the floor. He opened it to find supplies for a trip back to Alexandria. He wondered how she'd get back. She intended to walk back and leave the truck here. The kids would have frozen to death, or starved to death. He wasn't sure which would come first, to be honest. The nights were...unbearably cold now.

"Here." Morgan handed some salted meats to Maggie and Enid, who had cuddled up in the front seat with the small first aid kid Flissa had in her pack. "I've shared the rest among the other kids. They're regaining their strength."

"Thanks, Morgan." Enid accepted the meat while Maggie cleaned the cut on her brow.

"I've gotten water into most of them," he told Maggie, "but some of the smaller ones need Denise. The older kids did the best they could, but...they need medical attention."

"Then we better get back." Maggie tossed bloody cotton balls out and spread ointment cross Enid's brow. "We've been resting for a couple hours, and they can sleep on the way back."

"You'll rest," Morgan told her. "You've been up for hours, so why don't you go join them? They have blankets, and it's not too uncomfortable."

She opened her mouth to protest.

"They'll need you in the fight tomorrow," he cut her off. "I'll need to get Denise to the small ones immediately. There's some medicine in Flissa's pack, and it might not be the right kind, but...they need Denise, and our people need both of you. You're fighters. You'll be vital to reclaimin' our home."

She nodded. "Okay, but I'll stay up here with Enid and you."

"That's fine." He closed the door and went to the back to give the kids a flashlight and make sure they were secure and warm enough. He assured them they'd be home and in their own beds soon enough. He secured the latch and headed to the driver's side. His eyes fell on Flissa's dead body being devoured by the man she'd killed. He started the engine, pulled forward, killing the walker, and he directed the truck towards home.

Enid rested her head on Maggie's shoulder and closed her eyes, and Maggie relaxed against the cushioned seat and shut her eyes, forming a plan on how to invade Alexandria. An idea popped into her mind as her head hit Enid's lightly, the exhaustion that'd been creeping up on her for the past...however many days swallowing her.

Morgan was glad to see them asleep, because when they woke, it would be blood and bullets. He didn't want that, but he couldn't stop it either. Some people just couldn't be saved. He realized that after Pentaghast talked so joyfully about killing Carol's baby. If he came across her before Daryl or Maggie did, he might finish her off himself. All life was precious, and at some point, hers was too. Sadly she took that life and let it become something...dark and twisted, so there was no guilt to be had. Not for her, not for her people, and while he could fight, he would rather get Denise to these kids. They were the future of this world, and from the look of it, Pentaghast was destroying her people just fine on her own.

– – –

Singing. Someone was singing. Carol could hear it as real and as nearby as her own breathing. She'd fallen asleep sometime in the day after eating, but the sound of singing caused her to rouse. It was soft, monotone, sad, and it seemed like the same song was being sung over and over. She couldn't pry her eyes apart to view who was singing, so she let herself drift deeper as the sound began to fade into the silence.

Carol woke again to the sound of the muttering, high fevered breathing and rustling, and her eyes fell on Pentaghast in the darkness. Judith was still wrapped in her arms, snoozing like a horse, and Carol adjusted her eyes in the darkness. She couldn't make out what the young woman was saying, but she knew what emotion was tied to those uttered words: fear. She was having a nightmare. She was terrified.

"No...no...no..."

Carol held Judith closer to her as Pentaghast's voice began to raise in volume, and she knew that tone too. It was denial. She was reliving something. Something awful that had happened to her. Carol couldn't imagine what would have happened to her, but she had an idea. Given how she'd spoken to her yesterday, she had a very clear idea of what could be causing this nightmare. She supposed she could use this to her advantage. Perhaps, if she played it just right.

A light came on in the room, it was dim enough that it didn't hurt Carol's eyes but light enough that Carol could see Pentaghast without straining her eyes. She was covered in sweat, writhing on the bed, wincing and growling without noise. Carol could tell them apart by the curl and curve of her lips. She wondered what Pentaghast was seeing, but only for a moment. After it had passed, her focus returned to Judith, who luckily hadn't woken to the sounds.

"Pentaghast." It was Josephine. "Pentaghast." She climbed onto the bed and set a hand to the young woman's forehead, shushing her. She brought a small pouch to her nose, and Pentaghast began to settle. "Easy, easy."

Her eyes opened and fell into those hazel eyes. She slowly sat up, her clothes sticking to her, and she inhaled deeply, frustration oozing out of every sweat-covered pore. She pushed hair out of her face and growled gently.

"Thank you, Jo."

"No problem." She smiled lightly and peeled hair off her cheek. "I'll run you a bath."

"Please." It was a whisper of a child: vulnerable, confused, helpless.

Jo slid off the bed and down the hall to draw a bath for her, ensuring she had the proper salts to sooth a tired person's soul before preparing the water.

Pentaghast rolled her head to the side, her eyes flickering over to Carol, and she saw that she was awake. She set one bare foot on the floor, then the other, and she rose off the bed, the nightgown she wore almost completely soaked and clinging to her body. Carol could see a knife on her thigh, and Carol's theories were once more confirmed.

"What are you looking at?" This wasn't the leader Carol had met outside all those days ago, holding Judith's life in her arms. No, no, this was the little girl Carol saw peeks of previously. This was a child lost in past pain, helpless and small, barely clinging to strength, to hope, to life, even, perhaps. This was who she truly was. Strip away the guns, the armor, the crazy eyes, this was who Pentaghast was. A lost little girl.

But that did not justify her actions. "You," Carol replied. "I'm looking at you."

"Do you like what you see?" she snarled, though it wasn't threatening. Her voice was raw, her eyes bloodshot.

"No."

"Why not? Because it makes me a little harder to kill?" A crude smirk. "Or do I remind you of someone?"

"You do," Carol remarked. "You remind me of myself." Not the personality, but the reactions: fear, sweat, nightmares, tremors. She endured that with Ed and then when she'd lost her Sophia. Both times. "It's not a pretty picture."

"Life isn't pretty," she spat. "Life is pain, and you will find that out very soon."

"You're a little late to that party. I already know that. I've lived it, I am currently living it, and yet...here I am."

Pentaghast faltered and huffed, turning slightly away from the older woman, and she began to untie the knot on her nightgown, peeling herself out of it. Carol saw her body without a stitch of anything on, and there were scars everywhere, bruises and wounds that made the mind wonder how. She was no beauty, and yet she was no beast as well. All Carol could see was a lost and wounded child guided astray by the world and perhaps wicked people, and Carol made a decision then. One she would stick to until this was over.

Pentaghast turned and stretched her arms up, spreading her fingers and gazing at the spaces between them. She released a breath and walked over to Carol, bending down, covering her nude body with her knees as she held them tight to her chest. She studied the woman then reached in through the bars of the cell to touch her, and Carol tensed as her hand crept along Judith's spine. She made little sounds, like ones you'd use to entertain an infant as she did so, and finally her hand met Carol's body. Her collarbone, and Carol saw fascination in the girl's eyes.

Her hand moved down from stroking Carol's collarbone to her arm and then to her belly, what little of it Judith wasn't covering, and she curled three fingers and her thumb inward, leaving her index and middle finger free. She tracked them up and down Carol's belly before uncurling her fingers and placing a hand entirely flush against her stomach. She turned her head to the side, her eyes hollowing, her hand going numb for a moment, and she jerked back as if burned by some unforeseen being. She held her hand to her chest and backed up, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

"Pentaghast." Jo stood in the doorway. "Your bath is ready."

"It's about time." She strolled out of the room, composed, head held high, and she didn't once look back.

Jo looked over at Carol and Judith before taking a blanket off the dresser and nearing them. "She keeps it cold at night. Here."

"Do you really think a blanket is going to help this situation?"

Jo lowered her eyes. "It is the best I can do for now." She stuffed it through the bars and smiled at the sleeping babe in the woman's arms. "I'll bring breakfast for you both in the morning. The babies need to eat, both of them."

"So it'll have a full stomach when it's carved out of me?"

Jo frowned. "I have no control over her actions. I only watch the child. I am here for her."

"Do you think that separates you from them?" Carol asked once more.

"No, but my actions are my own. I know...what you can't even imagine...about Pentaghast...and about this world. I will help to preserve human life."

"But this isn't humane," Carol replied.

"Jo." Miller stood in the doorway. "Don't feed the animals. Come on."

She didn't move. "Why?"

"Your mother wants you."

She shot up. "Is she okay?"

She jerked her head to the side. "Come and find out."

Jo hurried out of the room to find her mother.

Miller looked at Carol, gave a bitter smile and closed the bedroom door without a single word. Carol exhaled deeply and rested her head against the wall, and she tried to wait until Pentaghast came back but the exhaustion had other plans.

"..."

Mmm. There it was again. The singing. It was a little louder this time, and it was still monotone. No, not monotone. It was...sung with a dead tone, as though the singer was empty inside, as though they had no emotion to put into the song. They were vacant of all emotions, of all hope, stripped naked and left afraid.

"I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. And I fear...no evil because I'm blind to it all. And my mind, my gun, they comfort me," she sang, "Because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell on this earth forevermore. Still I walk beside the still waters and they...restore my soul, but I can't walk on the path of the right, because I'm wrong."

Carol opened her eyes, for a moment, seeing blonde hair, a decorated wrist and the hand attached stringing on a guitar, smiling happily as her sister joined in, but as the haze of too much sleep passed, she saw the truth. Pentaghast sat on her bed, wearing her usual ridiculous outfit for winter, rocking herself back and forth. It was to sooth herself, Carol knew, and it wouldn't have bothered her if she hadn't see Judith in her arms.

She looked down to find Ellie in Judith's place, chewing on a donut teething toy, and her heart nearly fainted dead away.

"I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and I fear no evil, because I'm blind to it all. And my mind, my gun...they comfort me, because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell on this earth forevermore. Still I walk beside the still waters and they...restore my soul, but I can't walk on the path of the right, because I'm wrong..." Pentaghast's eyes were staring straight forward, and she wasn't blinking. She was on the verge of a massive breakdown, and it was plain for all to see. She was only rocking more and more, singing in the same dead tone, and Carol couldn't calm her heart.

"...said he come to save the world from destruction and pain," she continued, her voice losing even more life, if that was possible, "but I said how can you save the world from itself."

She moved Ellie to the blanket Jo had given her and stood up, her sharpened fork ready to be used if she had to. Somehow, someway, she would stop whatever followed this breakdown.

"...I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and I'll fear no evil 'cause I'm blind." Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "And I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul, but I know when I die...my soul is damned."

Carol frowned at how she sang that word. Heartfelt and afraid. Afraid of what, though?

"I was pregnant," Pentaghast began, speaking to no one in particular. She was still crying, still, rocking herself, still vulnerable and still very much on the edge. "I was pregnant."

"With Ellie?" Carol asked, feeling out the lock to see if she could utilize the fork that way.

"No." That stopped Carol for a moment. "With my son."

"Your...son...?"

"Before this all started...I was happy and in love and pregnant with Balen. It was either Balen or Baylor, but...Balen just felt right. He was the most important thing in my life, but...then the world was swallowed by its own wrath and the undead became our wardens." She had yet to blink, those tears falling endlessly down her cheeks and onto her shirt, onto Judith's light hairs. "My family and I were traveling...trying to get to safety for the baby's sake. Dad...had a plan to get to some fort, but...it didn't... It wasn't possible. I was too close to having the baby, and the trip would have been too much."

"So, you stayed?" Carol used this moment of brokenness to work on the lock.

"We stayed. We made a nice little home in the woods. We had shelter, a stream for fish and for boiling water. We had guns and protection. We thought we were safe." She shook her head. "Safety is for fools. Safety is lies your mother tells you so you can fall asleep at night. Safety...is the world's biggest and cruelest illusion."

Carol didn't dare speak now.

"They came...in more numbers than we had. They didn't bother to kill us. They used my mother and me, forcing my father to watch them...violate. They took turns. They laughed. They spat on us. They...they were monsters..." She started to shake. "They—they just keep going...even after I started to bleed...even after I felt him slip out of me... They just threw me over and kept going.

"And when they were done, they slit my mother's throat then smacked my father around. They stabbed me...in the stomach over and over. They didn't even have the guts to cut my throat, not like they had my mother." She inhaled sharply and tightened her grip on Judith. "They took my baby...and they kicked him like he was a football. He landed in the road...split open like a watermelon..."

Carol closed her eyes and felt sick.

"My dad went to my mother then to me. He was crying so hard. He didn't stop crying. He just plucked...a boulder off the ground and let the stream take him." She nuzzled her chin on Judith's hair. "I didn't move. I just waited. I waited and waited and waited for death, for the eternal peace to come and take me from this hell, but it didn't come. It never came.

"So I got up. Mother was dragging herself towards me, but I stopped her. I stopped her and then I went to my father. I let him be while I bathed. I let him be while I packed. I left him behind as I went on surviving." She looked at Carol now. "I didn't find them at first, but...I found Flissa's group then Miller's...and then I came across a little town where a bunch of cars and dead bodies were. I even saw the asshole who went first in a bar...brains blown out. I was upset, but his idiot friend had direction to their camp on him. And I slaughtered them like the pigs they were."

"I don't understand. You were rape yet you're raping my people? You're killing them?"

"Don't do to others what you yourself cannot handle," she repeated. "I survived the rapes. I survived losing my child. I survived for a reason, and I found that reason a month after I killed those fuckwads. That's why Ellie exists, why hope exists, why I exist."

"So, in between slaughter and finding groups," Carol inquired, "when did you learn you became the thing you feared the most?"

"Story time is over." She stood up, carefully adjusting Judith in her arms and nearing the cage. "You didn't notice when I exchanged the babes, did you? You were out cold. You ought to rest more. If you want to survive, too, you have to rest and strong."

"Why would I want to survive the murder of my child?"

"To be the nanny to mine, of course. This was a test. Ellie adores you, so my next child will too naturally." She smiled brightly, eyes still red-rimmed and cheeks still stained from her tears. "Jo can't do it all, so you'll raise my next baby. I like you, Carol, so I'll keep you." She giggled and hugged Judy to her chest.