inzumahunter Lol... course not. Pfft. Also thank you, hugely.

CW: A little gory.

"Stop..."

Sasha marches across the church, a whole hurricane trailing behind her, which is actually just Rick and Tyreese. The door creaks closed behind them. No Carol or Daryl or Bob.

Sasha squares up to Gabriel.

"What're you doing?" she asks him, voice low, dangerous. Gabriel stares at her. Slowly, he walks towards her, bible in hand. "What are you doing?" she repeats. "This is all connected. You show up. We're being watched. And now three of us are gone."

Gabriel looks around desperately. "I... I don't... I don't have anything to do with this."

Sasha flashes her knife.

"Don't!" Rosita shouts. Abraham holds her back.

"Put it away!" Rick growls.

"Who's out there?" Sasha ignores them. "Where are our people?"

"I don't have anythi-"

"WHERE ARE OUR PEOPLE?!"

"Please?" Gabriel begs, stumbling back. "I don't have anything to do with this. I—I..." Sasha walks away, shaking her head.

"Why'd you bring us here?" Rick asks.

"Please?" Gabriel begs, holding his hands up. "I... I—I—"

"You workin' with someone?"

"I'm alone. I'm alone. I was always alone."

I get this feeling like I believe him. I don't know why, only I do. I know what alone is. I know the weight of the word. And that weight was in his voice.

"What about that woman in the food bank, Gabriel?" Rick insists. "What did you do to her? 'You will burn for this', that was meant for you. Why? What're you gonna burn for, Gabriel?" Rick grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him into a wooden railing. "What? What did you do?!"

He lets go.

Gabriel bursts into tears.

"I lock the doors at night," he sobs. "I always lock the doors at night. I always lock the doors at night! They started coming. My congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before — they were scared, they were — they were looking for a safe place. A place where they felt safe. And it was so early! It was so early. The doors were still locked, you see? It was my choice. But there was so many of them, and they were... trying to pry the shutters and banging on the sides and s-screaming at me. And so, the dead came for them."

We all stare at him, horrified.

"Women," Gabriel says, nodding. "Children." He sobs. "Entire families calling my name as they were torn apart. Begging me for mercy. Begging me for mercy. Damning me to Hell. I buried their bones. I buried it all. The Lord sent you here to finally punish me." He collapses and looks up at Rick. "I'm damned! I was damned before. I always lock the doors. I always lock the doors!"

Sasha puts away her knife. Gabriel cries. I think he's an idiot. I think he's been alive longer than he should have. But he's around, still, and he's got to deal with it just like the rest of us.

Suddenly, there's whistling. Glenn rushes to the window. The whistle is a drone and it makes my skin crawl. "There's something..." Glenn trails. "There's someone outside lying in the grass!"

Everyone rushes to the door. Sasha first, not stopping when Rick calls out to her across the driveway. I'm at the door behind him.

"Bob!" Sasha screams. I see him — just like Glenn said; lying in the grass. There's something else. The dark is playing tricks. Oh, no...

"His leg," Maggie mutters.

Something is shuffling in the dark.

"Walkers!"

"Get Bob inside! Take care of him!"

Rick, Maggie, Glenn and I rush to shoot the dead. I catch one a second before it's going to get Rick and he stumbles back, nods to me, then keeps shooting. And then there's more gunfire. Not from us. Aimed at us. There's a hard yank on my shoulder and Michonne is shoving me back inside and yelling. Carl is pulled inside too. From outside, Sasha is yelling and Tara is grunting. Bob cries out.

More gunshots.

"Get inside!" Rick roars, shooting into the tree-line. "Go!"

Bob is lugged past us, barely not dropped as he's set on the floor by the altar. His missing leg is bandaged at the stump. Rick marches across the building, slamming the doors closed behind him, out of breath.

"They've been watching us," he growls.

"Bob," Sasha sobs, "what happened to you?"

"I was in the graveyard," he groans, hissing through teeth. "Somebody knocked me out. I woke up outside this place — looked like a-a school. It was that guy. Gareth. And five other ones. They were eating my leg right in fronta me, like it was nothing, all proud, like they had it all figured out."

This very odd feeling overcomes me then. Since Terminus, since before terminus, the notion of... that... of cannibalism, hadn't occurred to me once. It was hard enough to get used to dead people eating people, but living people, too?

My stomach lurches. I cover my mouth and shut my eyes.

"Did they have Daryl?" Rick asks. "Carol?"

"Gareth said they drove off..."

And then, all of a sudden, a great crack splits open my whole life.

Bob becomes breathless.

"He's in pain," Sasha pleads, "do we have anything?"

"I think there're still packets in the first aid kit," Rosita offers.

"Save them!" Bob hisses.

"N-no," Sasha argues.

"Really!" he growls, sobbing. He struggles to sit up. His hand comes up to his collar, and he pulls it across to show a deep, nasty bite. The whole world stares at his shoulder. "It happened at the food bank," he explains.

"It's okay." Sasha is crying. "Bob..."

"There's a sofa, in my office," Gabriel offers. "I know it's not much, but..."

Sasha looks up to him and nods. "Thank you."

"I got him," Tyreese says.

My stomach is wringing itself out. I get up quickly and rush for the supply room opposite Gabriel's office. It's too loud in the altar. The air is too stale. Judith it crying.

"C'mon," Carl says, opening the bathroom door — I didn't even know he'd followed me. "Here, before you yack all over the place."

I double over the toilet, mumbling things I don't realise as I shove the seat up. Then it all comes up in a wave of tomato bits and sweetcorn and squirrel, all mixed up in a yellow and brown porridge. Soon, my stomach and throat are raw. I feel Carl rubbing circles into my back but have to push his hands away. He apologises. I'd be embarrassed if I weren't busy yacking up more.

"I am tryina save yours! Save everyones'!"

"They're comin' back!"

"To what? Picked over bones?! Let go of my hands!"

"Abraham!"

"Hey, stop!"

The yelling outside doesn't go unnoticed, Carl and I are just too pre-occupied to do much about it right now.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Glenn growls. "Hey, hey, hey! You stay. You stay and help us. And we will go with you."

"No."

"It's not your call, Rick. Abe, you stay, help us."

"Half a day. Come high noon were tail-lights. No waitin' for the other damn shoe to drop."

"And we will leave with you."

"Twelve hours, and we go."

I'm focussing on not collapsing. Carl is cooing to Judith, who he must've gone and got at some point. I think I'm empty, so I sit back against the wall and shut my eyes. Carl gets me toilet paper to wipe my face. I'm wheezing, so I take my inhaler. When I settle, finally, I mumble something that's supposed to be a thank you, dropping tissue into the toilet. It doesn't flush so I just push down the seat.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Carl says, handing me a water bottle and more tissue. I wipe and rinse and gulp as much of the water as I can. Carl sits opposite me, struggling to settle Judith. She's grumpy and overtired.

Bob cries out from inside Gabriel's office.

Carl shakes his head. "I knew, what they were," he admits. "I saw... There were bodies, in cages. Hung up on hooks."

"They had these rooms..."

"Like shrines," he says for me.

We are quiet for a while.

"What was all that outside?" I croak. "Somebody leaving?"

"Abraham," Carl whispers. "He wants to get Eugene to D.C. Doesn't wait around for Carol and Daryl. They're gonna wait 'til morning, but he only agreed to it if Tara, Maggie and Glenn go, too."

I shake my head. Splitting us up, after everything we went through to find each other. Carl just says, "I know. I know."

We sit in the office bathroom scowling at the floor. Everyone seems settled now, muttering quietly amongst each other. It sounds like they're planning something.

I look up at the wall in the office, covered in drawings; Moses in his basket floating in a reedy stream, a bush on fire, colours unrealistic and child-like. I know some stories, but I didn't retain a lot. There's a framed script on the wall.

And let us not grow weary of doing good
For in due season we will reap if we do not give up
Galatians 6:9

I get mad, so mad I kick the wall opposite me. Both Carl and Judith startle and I feel terrible immediately. "Sorry."

Judith starts thrashing in Carl's arms.

"It's fine," he mumbles, trying to settle her, but she screams. "Come on, Judy, shh."

I shake my head. "She doesn't like being held like that."

Carl sighs. "Just take her."

I say no. I say, "Don't give up so fast. Here, put your arm under her feet, so she's got something to make her feel safe."

Carl looks unconvinced but tries it anyway. It works.

"If you want, try tapping your feet," I suggest, smiling. "Makes her tired, and if that doesn't work, do this..." While he gently drums his toes on the floor, I reach over and stroke my thumb all the way from the bridge of her nose to the tip. She shut her eyes after the third time, and is fast asleep after the fifth.

Carl looks dumb-struck. I smile, then sit back and look at the floor, and that miserable gap in my chest comes back again.

"They'll come back," he says, like he can read my brain, like he's been combing around inside my flesh and bone and sinew all night.

"She said she'd go."

I say it and it hurts so much worse than just thinking it.

"She said she would and I thought... I thought I'd have more time. I thought she'd change her mind." This stupid hiccup blocks up my throat and my voice turns heavy and thick and wet. "She didn't even say goodbye to me. She just left."

I wipe my eyes on my knees.

"They'll come back, Oliver," Carl says.

Sometime after that, Rick comes in to find us. "You two alright?" He stands in the doorway and takes in the three of us huddled in the bathroom cubicle. I must look like a mess, crying and smelling like sweat and vomit.

"Yeah," Carl answers. "Oliver's just not feeling very well."

"I'm fine," I lie, wiping my face.

"Everything okay?" Carl asks. "We heard arguing."

His father nods. He motions us out of the room. "Listen. I gotta talk to you both. We've got a plan..."

Later, once the plan is set, and it's clear that if the timing of tonight if off my a minute, everyone will die... Rick pulls me aside, handing me extra ammo which I stow with my cigarettes. Rick doesn't notice them. He looks anxious.

"Wanted to ask you a favour," he says, "I was wondering if you'd let me use your machete, jus' for tonight. Figured you won't need it with your extra rounds. Plus, I made a promise..."

I hand it over.

Soon, Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Tara, Sasha and Abraham leave the church, ready for the Termites. The rest of us hide in the darkest part of the building, Gabriel's office, in silence, and we wait.

Notes

I'll admit, I only wrote Oliver rushing off to throw up so that I didn't have to write the dialogue where everyone was talking. I feel dirty...

As always,
Happy reading.