XXXXIII.
Daryl hadn't returned in the morning, nor Abraham or Sasha.
Around the noon, Rick stopped in front of the wall, trailing a finger over the damaged panel, and frowned at the blood stains running down over a slit across it as the metal panel groaned heavy from outside. His fingertips got sticky with the dark blood and Rick knew it was walkers' blood.
His expression getting grimmer, he listened to the growls, groans, and snarls from outside. Since the last night, they were getting louder—louder, surrounding them like a nightmarish cocoon. Walkers herd up, it was a fact Rick knew very well. When he had woken up in the morning, the first thing Rick had noticed was that, the increased sounds of the walker. Leaving Amanda and Judith still sleeping in the bed, Rick had left the house then, and had walked out to check out the perimeters, and hadn't been surprised to see walkers had drawn more of them over the night. Many of them was gathered around the damaged panel too as if they were feeling its weakness, throwing themselves against, clanking against the metal surfaces, bleeding through cracks as the metal protested with groans under the attack.
He lifted his head and looked at the watch out platform over the gate—and saw Beth was still standing there, looking at the north, where Daryl, Abraham, and Sasha would come back. She had been there since the morning, never leaving even for once. He'd gone up and tried to talk her to come down, but Beth had stubbornly refused, telling him she would come down when Daryl had returned.
Rick had left her there then. They had to keep watches non-stop. Someone had to stay there always so he figured Beth could be one of them. They all took turns for watches, but Beth had stayed there whole night. Rick wondered if the young woman had even slept last night.
Maybe Rick should've given her something as well, but then he needed all people. This was going to be hard…but they were holding up—they were fighting. All Alexandria was fighting, and Rick knew it was not over yet. He looked at the blood at his fingertips, the snarls and growls in his ears increasing… They were going to have to fight more.
His eyes wandered around, looking at the town again—then he caught Amanda and Carl walking toward him. She was walking on the arm of Carl with slow, small steps, her hand looped around Carl's elbow. Rick grimaced her seeing at her feet once again, exhaling a sharp breath. For once, just for once if she listened to him! She had to be in the bed. While she still could, she had to be in the bed!
He marched towards them; his eyes fixed at Carl. Before Rick had left, he had brought Judith to Carl so when she woke up, Amanda would rest, telling his son to look out for them—but here Carl was—assisting Amanda out. "Carl—" he started but Amanda cut him off.
"Don't Carl at him," she said, giving him a pointed look, her eyebrows tightened with displeasure, "I told him I'm going out. Wanted to help me—" She shook her head, her eyes turning sterner, "I slept through whole morning, Rick. Whole morning."
His jaw clenched. He turned to Carl again, taking her from his arm, "You go find Judith," he told his son, "We'll come later."
Carl nodded, started walking away as Amanda turned to him. "I just woke up," she stated, "You drugged me, didn't you?" and inquired, her voice taking a turn in accusation, "I slept the whole morning through this!" She gestured with her hand, saying the last word, as if to indicate the snarls and growls that got louder with every passing minute. She shook her head with another sigh, "Seriously what did you give me?" she asked.
"Atarax," Rick then admitted, "Denise said it should relax you without knocking you out. It's usually given to children—and cats," he added after a pause.
"Cats?" she asked, raising her eyebrow up, "You gave me cat drugs?"
"It got you winded down—" Rick said back offhandedly, and his eyes found hers again, "You were practically purring in sleep last night."
She snorted out, "You're full of bullshit, Rick Grimes."
"It got you winded down," Rick only repeated, and silenced the guilt inside him—that little voice inside his mind telling him he should've protected her—that he was failing again another woman he loved—a part of him knew it wasn't his fault—he was trying his best—he knew yet another part just—didn't feel it. Sometimes I just can't feel it, he recalled Amanda's words.
In his sudden silence, Amanda watched as Carl stopped in the street, seeing Enid out of her porch. Both of them stopped seeing each other, exchanged a few words, then Enid climbed down and joined at Carl. "Well, something good's coming out of this at least," she remarked with a low voice, and leaned down against his side, looping her hand through his arm for support as Carl and Enid started walking toward their house, "We're getting bonded by blood, tears, and sweat."
By blood, tears, and sweat… Rick watched their retreating backs, and knew what Amanda had said was the truth. It was the truth of the life they'd been fighting for—the foundations on which they were erecting up their new world, where they got to the living. Their home, and it was rising upon their blood, toils, tears and sweat.
He looked at the blood at his fingertips, then turned to Amanda again, "Daryl hasn't returned yet," he told her, his words as plain as ever, but inclinations were not.
Amanda's eyes lifted above and found Beth. "I know. That's why I came out. I need to see her. I need to be with her." She shook her head, "Was she there whole night?"
Rick nodded. "Walkers drew more of them during the night. I saw cracks along the wall. We don't know for sure how long the damaged panel would hold up. We need to drive them away."
Amanda nodded back quickly. "What's the plan?"
"We create a distraction, then I jump down from the wall and make a run for it to get back to the quarry."
Amanda shook her head with the same quickness as she had nodded. "Make a run for it how?" she inquired, "Outside the wall is hell. You can't make a run for it. We can't such a distraction." She paused, lifting her head up—then stopped, "Spencer had an idea. He mentioned it yesterday at Deanne's. I—I think we could try it—" she mused out.
He looked at her highly skeptical. Any plan of Spencer Monroe didn't sound to him something they would even consider on it, let alone give it a try. But Amanda said, "Gather everyone at Deanne's. Then we'll discuss it."
# # #
"I'll do it," Spencer said an hour later in Deanne's hall, "You distract them, I make the climb."
Rick shook his head, "Have you ever done such a climb before?" Rick asked back, his words stern and curt. The plan wasn't as bad as he'd assumed, so Rick would never let it Spencer ruin it. The man had recognized they could try to climb out in the air by a wire they would stretch out between the platform and one of the half-burnt houses outside the walls, then dropped down and made a run for it.
The drop-out was still might be problematic—walkers were getting crowded by each minute outside the wall, but it was still better than directly jumping down from the wall. The distraction then would work—it would create an opportunity to clear the scattered walkers ahead of him, and others would assist him from watch-out points. They'd cleared out the prison's yard like this, so Rick would do this. If only he could make the climb himself, too.
That part was going to be problematic as he'd never done such a climb before, as well, and he wasn't sure if the wire they had would support his weight. He calculated almost a quarter of a mile between the burnt house and the wall and even though they managed to throw out a rope with hooks that far away, make a climb on it with hands and legs was going to be—hard, not mention if the rope would hold.
Yet, he had to try it. He shook his head, "No. I'm gonna try it."
But Amanda shook her head too, "No. You're too heavy," she opposed, thinking just like he had, "I saw the rope. It can't support you. We need someone—lighter."
"I'll do it," Michonne suddenly spoke from the left corner, but Amanda shook her head again, turning to her.
"No. You're—too muscled too," she said, "We need someone really skinny—" Her eyes turned to Beth for a second, "Someone's really fast, too. Light and fast. I'd—I'd try it, but you know—"
"I'm doing it," Beth cut her off, "It has to be me."
Quickly, Amanda nodded, but Maggie stood up agitated, "No. Absolutely not! I'll do it."
Beth shook her head as Rick frowned. He wasn't sure what he might feel—what Amanda had said was true—but sending off Beth there— Daryl wouldn't like it, and he'd already hid the truth from Daryl once, and if he let Beth do this now, he wasn't sure how Daryl would take it. "I'm lighter and a lot faster than you, Maggie," Beth told her sister, her voice adamant, "And I survived through a fall from an elevator shaft."
"The wolves still might be them—" Maggie countered, "And walkers—"
"If wolves are there, I'm gonna kill them," Beth said with the same adamant voice, "and walkers—we can use walkers' blood and guts again." Her eyes turned to Rick then, "It has to be me, Rick. It has to."
Because it was Daryl who was out there, and Beth felt she needed to find him. He understood Beth, but he wasn't sure if Daryl would understand. If their positions were reserved, if it was him out there, not Daryl, and Amanda wanted to do this for him—to find him—he wasn't also sure if he would've like it himself, either.
But again—Amanda, if not still slowly bleeding, would've been also their best option, and Rick knew he would've been watching her doing it at the end. He would've hated it—it didn't change the fact that she was better suited for it than him. And they'd been all fighting, making choices… blood, tears, and sweat.
Slowly, Rick nodded. "Okay."
# # #
"I can do this, Amanda," Beth said, standing at the platform, then corrected herself, shaking her head decisively, "I will do it."
"I know," Amanda said, and walked to her for a tight hug, "Just be careful," she whispered at the younger woman, her words breaking, and she felt sobs inside her again. She tightened her arms. She didn't want Beth to go, didn't want her to risk her life like that. It hurt—it hurt so much watching her taking chances with her life, to save their skin… It had to be her, she should've done this—Beth was the little sister she'd never had—and if something happened to her—just because Amanda was here because she was bleeding—she knew she could never forgive herself.
Beth took a step her back and looked at her. "You know it has to be me," Beth told her, "I have to find him."
And there was that, too. Amanda nodded, "You will." She smiled at her, her eyes at hers, told her back what she usually told to Daryl, "Come back soon, we'll be waiting."
Beth smiled back at her ruefully and started climbing on the rope as Rick and others started firing.
She wrapped her legs and hands over the rope tightly, and crawled along the rope as fast as she could, her face set in determination, Amanda could see it from where she stood at the platform through the scope of the sniper rifle she sat behind, below them walkers snarled and groaned in oblivion, their attention drawn to the gunshots.
"Be ready—" Rick shouted as Beth stopped just at the roof of the burnt house and jumped at the water drains from the rope then dropped herself down.
Quickly, Amanda took two walkers nearest to her as Beth started running away like a bolt of lightning she was.
# # #
"She's going to come back," Amanda told Maggie and Rick as they stood at the platform, watching outside, each in their own guilt for letting her go, but still enduring, "She will."
Below their feet, walkers growled, snarled, gnarled—threw themselves against the damaged panel a bit heavier—as if sensing its weakness more and more with every second, drawing more and more of their kind… and the metal of the damaged panel groaned louder each time—cracking under the weight…
"We still have to do something," Maggie said then, lowering her eyes below, "If we don't, it might be too late when she comes back."
Rick nodded. "We will," he said, and his eyes turned to Deanne who stood a few feet behind them, "We're going to fight."
# # #
"You want to open the gate?" Heath exclaimed out as they stood in the backyard of the warehouse where Rick had gathered all Alexandria yesterday. "You want us to open the gate and fight?" he elaborated, asking again.
Stiffly, Rick nodded. "The damaged panel is getting hit too heavily. Beth's gonna come back, but we don't know if the panel would hold until then. We—we need to get them distracted and clean out a bit. This is how you do the cleaning," he told them, his voice firm yet slow, "We open half of the gate and let them come in, then close out the gate and clean the incoming. One at a time."
"What if we can't?" Spencer asked, "What if we can't close the gate, and they overrun us?"
Rick shook his head, "If we do this, we create a bottleneck. The damaged panel is a lot wider than the gate. If it falls, we're doomed. We have to control it." He paused, waving his arm back toward the wall and repeated the words he'd told before the dry on, "We have to come for them before they come for us."
It was always that simple. Every moment they waited for that panel collapse, they waited for another disaster happen too. "That panel is going to collapse," so he told them again, "It's not an if again, but a when—and we need to decide on when now."
Next to him, Amanda spoke too, "If we open the gate, it's gonna be in our terms," she said, "We will hold the gate as long as we can, then we will fall back. Everyone who can't fight will be in the warehouse. We already stashed food and water there to keep us going for days. We put up a perimeter. We dug ditches and put up spikes, we prepared a defense line. We can hold it for a long time, as long as we need to until Beth, Daryl, Abraham and Sasha return and draw the rest of them away." She wandered her eyes on them, "And they will come back but are you going to sit down and wait until bad things happen to us or are you going to fight?"
At first, no one from Alexandrians stepped forward, only shared worried and skeptical looks between them, then Carter moved and took a step out, "They're right," he told his fellow townspeople, "I saw how it's outside—and they're right. We have to do this. We have to fight."
Heath nodded then too, "Yeah. Let's do this. It worked—half the last time."
# # #
Amanda walked through the three defense lines for the last preparations, checking out before she moved with the rest of the Alexandria who couldn't fight—too wounded or too old or too young into the warehouse.
All of rest of Alexandria was in front of the gate, all ready to defense their home. Her whole being was resisting the notion of going to the warehouse with others, but she knew she had to. For one thing, someone had to deal the situation there too, and with her bleeding and such she was the best option. Besides, Judith was going to be in the warehouse, too, expectedly, and she didn't want to leave her baby angel alone, either… But still… She had to fight for them—to keep them safe—her family. Rick, Carl, Judith… Beth…
She let out a sigh, her mind going off to Beth—then she saw Deanne, walking to the warehouse slowly.
Deanne was going to come with her too, and it took a great length of talking to convince the older woman not to stand in the third defense line. Deanne had wanted to fight, with a machete in her hands, Deanne Monroe had wanted to fight. Amanda just couldn't let it happen. Alexandria still needed her.
They still needed her, to make Alexandria what it was going to be… and her dream—her vision was going to be true, Amanda believed it more than anytime now—all their sacrifices—all their struggles, their blood, tears, and sweat, it meant more—she didn't know it was civilization or not, but she knew it was something more. For now, it was enough for her.
The last of the defense line had the Alexandrians—the first-time fighters, who possibly had any blades or knives yesterday, Carter and Spencer leading them. They were first to fall back if things turned ugly and they lost the gate, the other two lines protecting the retreat. The second line was the experienced fighters from Alexandria, Glenn and Heath taking the lead. The first line was them, Rick holding the whole thing at the head. Her eyes looked for him as he moved around, giving orders before they started doing it—then of course a few feet around him, she found what she was looking for, the familiar sight of dreadlocks—letting out a sigh, Amanda walked to Michonne.
She hated it—she fucking hated it with all of her being—but she knew Michonne was going to be there keeping Rick's back—so they had to have that talk. It was long overdue, and they had to clear off some stuff before Amanda went back into the warehouse and waited for the man who she loved to come back to her again. She had to.
She stopped in front of the katana-wielding woman, "Can we talk for a second?" she asked directly as Rick momentarily stopped and his eyes fell on them. Amanda prepared not to notice.
Michonne nodded, and they moved toward a secluded corner under the platform. Michonne looked at her in silence, "You know I don't like you," Amanda started, keeping the words as simple as possible, and her tone matter of fact, too, "And I know you don't like me, either. And I don't care."
Michonne gave her a sharp look, "I don't understand the point of this conversation, Amanda."
"The point is, Michonne, the point is—" she shook her head, "He's my husband, and I love him more than anything in this world. I wish I could protect him like I'm supposed to, but I can't… so, my point is—" she stopped, and let out another breath again, "I—I saw you yesterday at the gate—you were ready to defend him as he ran from walkers—ready to protect. I want you to continue to do so, Michonne. I want you to hold his back."
She shook her head, "You don't need to ask me that," Michonne told her back, "I was keeping his back long before you were even here."
"I know." She rolled her eyes at words, trying to keep her temper at check, "That's why I don't like you, Michonne. I fucking hate seeing you together, knowing that how much you shared. It drives me fucking crazy, but I'm a big girl. We can never be friends, but we can—try to be civil, right?" She paused, "For Rick." She gave the Afro-American woman another look, "I know you still care for him."
She probably loved him, but Amanda couldn't bring herself to mutter out those words to Michonne, but she knew it. She supposed it'd been—hard being that close to Rick and—not love him. He possibly might've driven her crazy, too, but Amanda still knew the other woman loved him. But she'd lost her chance—and they were just going to be civil—as long as Michonne knew that, as well.
Giving her a long look, Michonne nodded tersely and started walking away.
Rick came to find her as soon as she was alone, and gave her a look, "Amanda—"
She cut him off, "Don't worry, Rick, we just had a chat—between girls."
He stared at her, and Amanda started at him back, then finally he nodded. "You should get back to the warehouse. We're starting it in five minutes."
She let out a deep breath and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I wish I could be with you."
He lifted her head up, holding her chin and gave her a look, "You're always with me," he whispered out, "Keep Judith safe."
She nodded, "You know I will," she said before she arose on her toes and touched at his lips with hers as his hand dropped from her chin, "I love you," she whispered at him.
"When this all ends, we're going to have a wedding, Amanda," Rick told her back, his voice a rasp, "A proper one. I want to you see in bride's whites—"
She smiled at him, "No—We do it when I'm cleared out—I don't know you, but I'm not spending another wedding night only with sleeping."
He smiled faintly, "No, we not."
# # #
Amanda held Judith between her arms tightly as they sat at the ground, slowly rocking her back and forth in her lap as the fighting outside grew louder and louder. Inside the warehouse, though, the only sounds were constant mumbling from prayers where Father Gabriel and his folk sat around in another pray circle and prayed for the salvation.
"I will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday."
Father Gabriel muttered, and they repeated, Amanda gave out a bitter smile at the words. It was getting darker, night befalling them too—the plague had destroyed their morning and midday, too.
" A thousand may fall at my side,
ten thousand at my right hand,
but it will not come near me."
The Father completed the prayer, as the doors suddenly opened, and people from the third line rushed inside. Amanda saw Jessie and his boys, too, covered with blood and dirt, shaking, trembling but still alive. Amanda stood up, hoisting up Judith in her embrace, Deanne following her example.
Carter and Spencer had walked inside the last and started barricading the doors immediately. Rick had ordered them to lock themselves in until they had come back after the first line retreated, they were going to put up the last defense outside the perimeters.
"Walkers breached! They lost the gate!" Someone yelled from backside in the sudden silence, prayers stopping as well, "Oh my god, we're going to die!"
"Stay calm," Amanda shouted, walking toward Spencer and Carter, "We knew it was going to happen. Stay calm!" She looked at the men. "What happened? Beth returned?"
Carter nodded. She felt a weight lifted off her chest. "She came ten minutes ago—drove half of them away—the others stayed—"
She nodded. They also knew a car just couldn't make enough noise to pull the whole herd away. The half was better. They could deal with them. The gate was too narrow—they still could hold them, lead them into the killing ground between the warehouse and perimeters.
Then she heard it—over the fighting noises and shouts, and screams, she heard the deep groan of metal and cracking of woods as something collapsed down.
Her eyes widening, Amanda realized the bell tower had fallen.
# # #
With widened eyes, Rick watched as the bell tower collapsed down…and started shouting as walkers started flooding them from everywhere.
"HOLD THE LINE!" Rick yelled at them, standing at the first line, and twisting aside he shouted at Glenn, "FALL BACK!"
Glenn shaking his head, ran towards them, "GLENN! RETREAT!" His eyes found Heath, and he yelled at the younger man, "RETREAT!"
Heath, understanding, he was at the charge now as Glenn stood with them next to Maggie, shouted as well, "RETREAT!"
Rick saw them running back to warehouse, then ordered at his people, "Circle in—close formation. We protect the retreat first."
Michonne swept her katana around her head in a deadly arc, killing two walkers at the same time as Maggie and Glenn stabbed another two at their left side—Carl shot at another one at his other side with his gun.
They'd done this before—many times. They could do it again. They walkers were swarming the place, but they still could their grounds. He turned aside and saw Heath and his teams running toward the warehouse.
He nodded at his people then, too, "Move on—don't break the line," he ordered again, as they started moving towards the warehouse too, the last defense—they could hold them back there.
They still could. They moved inch and inch, killing as many walkers as possible but it was no good. They were too many, just too many, circling them around—just too much to cut a clean way through.
Soon, their advance stopped, and their backs at the each other, they started fighting where they stood, holding their ground.
"Hold your ground!" Rick yelled desperately as they circled completely by the dead, "Just hold it."
# # #
Hastily, they removed the logs from the door and took the people in. Giving Judith to Deanne, Amanda ran towards to the newcomers. "Is it the bell tower?" she asked breathless, "Has it collapsed?"
Heath nodded.
Her head suddenly turning, she supported herself, bracing her hand on the siding door. "Go climb up," she ordered, tilting her head up towards the windows at the ceiling, "Tell me what's happening."
Hastily, Heath ran to the ladder at the wall and climbed up towards the small window under the ceiling. "They're—they made a circle—they're retreating!"
Letting out a breath of relief, Amanda nodded. "How many walkers?" she asked.
"Too—many…." He stopped, "Just too many…"
Amanda lifted her head, and shouted, "What happens?"
Heath looked down, "I'm sorry—I'm sorry. They—they stopped. They're circled."
The weight at her chest returned at full force, and almost knocked her out. "I—I have to go out—" she muttered, shaking her head, her eyes pricking—She couldn't be here—not all of her family was out there—dying. She had to go…she had to go… She took out her gun—and she turned and looked at Judith as Deanne held it— "Protect her as long as you can," she told the woman before she turned and started walking to the door…then she heard it.
Judith had started crying—her steps faltering, Amanda turned back and looked at her little baby… from Deanne's embrace, she was trying to reach out—trying to reach for her as she realized Amanda was leaving—
She looked at her baby angel—crying for her—her little arm stretched out—for her—looking for her—mother. Amanda rushed at her and took her back in her embrace, wrapping her around her chest tightly, inhaling her deeply. "I'm here, darlin'—" she whispered at her ear, "I'm here…" she buried her head over her little body, and shook her head, "Mommy is here…she won't leave you." Holding her closest her chest, closing her eyes, her head turning, she promised her baby, "Never."
Please, forgive me, my love… she whispered inwardly, please forgive me…
She couldn't leave Judith—she just couldn't leave her… Rick would've understood. Rick would've wanted her to stay in— "Open the doors," she heard then Deanne's voice.
"Open the doors," she ordered with clear voice, "I'm going out."
"Mother!" Spencer shouted, as Amanda snapped her head up and looked at Deanne.
She'd taken an ax, and held it in front of her, as she stood in front of the doors, like a stature—head defiant, her small figure casting a big shadow in the darkened gloom under the soft light of the lamps—and she looked regent, Amanda would've never thought how someone would look regent, not until she saw Deanne Monroe standing in front of the warehouse door, with an ax in her hands.
"They—They are dying out there for us—" she told her people, stressing the words, "He's always told us we should fight if we don't want to die—" She paused, "But we're here now, and they're out there—dying for us. I told him yesterday he should believe in us—believe in us." She shook her head, "This is not the Alexandria I've tried to build." She looked at them, "And I'm not going to leave them alone."
Carter stepped forward, nodding, "She's right. I'm coming, too."
Deanne nodded, and her eyes wandered along her people. Spencer walked to her side and stood as Heath and his teams following, taking out their weapons. Jessie followed, with Ron and Sam, and Enid came as she saw redhead woman who had cried out that they had been dead just a couple of minutes ago. Breathing out, Amanda gave a long kiss at her forehead and gave it to Father Gabriel, muttering, "I'll come back, sweetheart, I will…"
But the Father shook his head again, walked towards Deanne, "I've have been praying for a miracle for a long time—and it's been here all along—I just needed to look for it." He took out his knife as he stopped in front of the door.
She gave Judith then the old lady, and took out her gun, and let out a deep breath. "We can do this," she told them then, "We move in close formation—we hold each other's back, don't break the line. We need to cover their backs—then we meet in the middle and sweep them for good."
She looked at them, "Follow my lead," she told them, and looked at Deanne, "Do not fear, and trust each other. We'll get through this."
Deanne raised her arm with the ax, and shouted, "FOR ALEXANDRIA!"
And Amanda watched as every single of them raised their arms and shouted back, "FOR ALEXANDRIA!"
# # #
How many walkers have you killed?
The questions had lost its meaning now—he'd lost so many of them now—so many… Rick swung his axe into another dead…so many death… He was surrounded by so many deaths…piled upon each other—a mountain of dead.
How many people have you killed?
So, so many—so much that he couldn't even remember their names anymore…
His people were dying now—his family… His eyes skipped to Carl—he—he should've been in the warehouse too, with Judith and Amanda… He should've been there—but Carl had stayed behind—protecting his baby sister—protecting his own family. His little son was becoming a man—he wished Carl had really had his own family one day—had his own children—his own wife…
He wished he could protect him…
He wished he could protect his family…
Amanda and Judith—they still had a change—if they—they managed to kill at least a bit more of those walkers—the perimeters would keep them safe until Daryl or Beth returned once again, they had food and waters…
If only— If only…
"ALEXANDRIA"
The single shout echoed in air, under the darkening sky—then Rick saw it… them… All Alexandria was running towards them, their weapons in the air, screaming the battle cries as Deanne ran ahead of them, an axe in her hand, much like the one he was carrying.
All Alexandria…was running toward them—to save them—to fight with them—for them… and Rick couldn't fucking believe it.
They all stopped for a split of second, the same disbelief in every each of them, then Deanne swept her weapon wobbly into an undead for the first time, killing dead and undead for the first time all in her life—and raised her axe in victory and Amanda was next to her, killing as many as walkers she could with her gun, sweeping the ground before they came to direct contact—
Then he saw it happening, two walkers ran toward them, Amanda killed one of them, and turned to the other, but her magazine getting empty, the last shot ran empty. Quickly, she took out her knife and launched forward but Deanne stepped ahead of her—and threw her ax—but another just kept her behind before Amanda could kill her…
Amanda screamed, "Deanne!" but the older woman had already started stumbling down—
# # #
"Deanne-!" Amanda screamed, and pushed the walker ahead of her, and yelled at the others, as Spencer shouted, "Mother!"
"Don't break the line! Don't fucking break the line!"
But she was too late. Spencer had already moved out, rushing to her mother, and yanking her back, and another walker was at his back… Amanda quickly reloaded her gun with her spare magazine and took out the walker before he got Spencer.
They shouldn't have done it—they just shouldn't have broken the line…she'd told them… she had fucking told them… They'd gotten over their heads, all being heroic and stupid…
And stupid got you killed.
God, Deanne was bit.
How they were going to fucking do it without her now?
She shook her head, and ordered again—feeling blood fastening outside of her—but there was nothing she could do anything about it now… She'd accepted it, too.
"Don't fucking break the line—we do it together. Don't get heated up," she warned them before they started moving toward Rick and his group.
# # #
The moon was high in the sky when they stood in front of each other, breathing labored, completely drenched in blood, and many other things, tired beyond belief, limbs shaking… Beneath them, in their battleground, the dead rotten bodies swept the ground, and not her legs finally giving in, she dropped down upon them, her head bowed.
Rick knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around her.
She wanted to cry—because—they were alive.
Not all of them—but they were still alive. Alexandria hadn't fallen tonight.
# # #
"I told you to trust us, Rick," Deanne told them as she laid in the infirmary, "We made it…together."
Rick nodded, "Yes," and his hand held the older woman's as Amanda stayed in silence at the other side of the bed, her head bowed, "You made it possible."
The older woman shook her head, "No, you made it possible. You both did." She looked at them as Amanda lifted her head, "I—I live a long life, followed my dream. It's your turn now. You'll do good. I trust you." She smiled, looking at the window, the sky slowly opening— "A new day's coming—" she muttered out.
She couldn't see it.
Her eyes closed before the dawn broke.
# # #
They started clearing the streets the next day—first their own death.
Rick saw Carter first among the fallen, and the redheaded woman—and Jessie was there, too—fighting for their home.
Blood, sweat, and tears.
As Rick dug their graves, he started to cry.
# # #
Beth stepped through the gate in the deadly silence, looking around—the battle ground.
The walkers were gone.
She'd driven half of them away herself yesterday—but—the rest—the rest—they'd fought themselves.
Abraham whistled out, "Monkey's nuts! Some serious shit gone around here," he mumbled out. Daryl grunted out a committal voice in answer as their—guests stopped, seeing the last situation—Beth had warned them, too, and she also had assured them it was going to be okay.
She had told them they were all going to be okay.
She turned aside, and fixed her gaze at the newcomers, "It's okay—my people—my people must have fought with them," she explained.
Rick and Amanda ushered out of the infirmary, "Daryl!" Rick shouted back, as Amanda ran to her— "Beth!"
"Who are these people?" Rick asked.
"Our first recruits—" Beth then introduced, waving at her hand toward the couple to step forward, "Dwight and Cherry."
"And this black beauty is out there—" Abraham supplied in, waving his hand at the fuel truck outside at their gate, "—is Patty," the ex-soldier told them, "You're gonna love this, Rick."
A'right, bet you didn't see it coming, heh :)
I always want to play with the idea how things would've been different with her, and I think if Beth was with Daryl when he met with Dwight and Cherry, they wouldn't turn to Sanctuary. To tell the truth, in my opinion, the show handled very badly their final decision to turn back, betraying Daryl. I was planning to write those sections, too, but well, the plans...
I'm also finishing this story with the next chapter, in fact, the next chapter is just going to be an epilogue to deal with the aftermath of the Battle of Alexandria, heh, I named it myself. :)
It's about time Amanda and Rick be the stars their own story, I think, this is not working anymore. Frankly, I also got another idea with them recently-directly following the end of Coda-completely different, much more canon too, but I'm not sure which story I might start writing first.
So-well, I guess, soon we'll find out.
Like always, tell me what you think! Thanks.
