The Price of Survival

Back at Hilltop preparations were well underway for the attack we knew was imminent. The entire way back Deadpool pleaded with me to convince Maggie to let George and the twins go, but she didn't need my help. Maggie would do the right thing. She'd let them go. She just needed time to see the choices before her and pick the right one.

"What do you think?"

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking the water bottle from Glenn. "About what?" He pointed to George and the twins, sitting outside Barrington house next to their confiscated van. "I think windmills are great, but they aren't going to help us tonight."

"It gives us a chance though...a chance at a real future." His eyes strayed to his wife who was carrying a crate filled with records. We all worried for our future, but no one more than the parents to be. "I wish things were different."

What would the world look like where we used our collective strengths to band together to rebuild the world instead of fighting over the scraps left behind?

"We'll get there," I lied, the deceit tasting bitter on my tongue.

The truth was there would always be another threat. Desperation had a way of turning decent human beings into vicious creatures. Glenn wanted to believe in the world Carl imagined, a place where we helped people instead of hurt them, but I didn't have the luxury of dreams. The sad reality was this wouldn't ever be over, not for us, probably not even for our children, maybe never. It was a sad and sobering realization.

"I'd like to thank you."

I carefully set the bomb in the back of the truck, rubbing my dirty hands on my jeans. George stood tall before me, shoulders back, an inviting smile on her serious face.

"For what exactly?"

She tilted her head to the side, studying me intently. "For saving our lives."

"I didn't save your lives. I just didn't kill you."

When she smiled it threw me off balance. "Something tells me that was enough." She glanced over her shoulder at Maggie who was overseeing the twins as they unloaded crates of food. "She trusts your judgment. You stayed your hand, and therefore she agreed to the deal."

That was some fucked up logic if I ever heard it, but whatever.

"Well, I'm happy to help." Even if I still wasn't sure what we were actually talking about.

"I look forward to seeing you again in the future. I hold out hope it will be one improved from what we experience today."

You and me both you pant suit wearing weirdo.

The trio departed shortly thereafter, leaving us to finish our preparations. Jesus returned just before nightfall, dejected, haggard, and empty handed.

"Anything?" Glenn asked hopefully.

"No." He squinted against the glare of the sun, eyes going wide when he saw the crates filled with food sitting outside Barrington House. "How'd you get that?"

"We kidnapped people." He turned slowly, eyebrows raised. "I take it you didn't try that approach?"

"I can't tell if you're kidding."

I snorted, and he picked up a sticky bomb, licking his lips. "Will these really work?"

"Throw one and find out." He mulled over my suggestion, but decided against it, for now.

The horns sounding in the distance made us all jolt, my blood turning to ice in my veins. That was the signal. The Saviors were coming.

People ran around frantically, shouting, getting the last of our plan in place. A group retrieved the pile of sticky bombs, running out the front gate before disappearing into the forest. I bolted for former museum, retrieving the sniper rifle I'd stashed near the front door. Maggie was there with Glenn, both looking tense, eyes locked on the lookouts standing atop the walls.

"You guys good?" They both nodded wordlessly as I clipped a walkie talkie to my belt. "Anything on the others?"

Daryl, Merle, Rick, Carl, Francine, and Morgan, and the list went on, were still out there. I was doing my level best to quell my rising panic, but I hated not knowing where they were or if they were even still alive. The logical side of my brain knew it would be difficult for them to make it safely to Hilltop before The Saviors, but the illogical side of my brain feared things that were far more sinister.

"Not yet," Glenn answered somberly, tucking a semi-automatic rifle into his shoulder.

"I'm headed to the roof."

Maggie turned, pulling me in for a brief yet fierce hug, whispering in my ear to be careful. Inside Barrington House was utter chaos, bodies stuffed in every conceivable corner, furniture overturned to serve as cover, and dozens of rifles poking out between the slates of wood covering the windows.

Pushing my way up the stairs I made my way to the bedroom Jesus put Daryl and I in on our first trip here. The stupid, pretentious doilies were still meticulously placed on the antique dresser along with the termite infested bed I was still hoping we'd get a chance to break. My throat constricted thinking about Daryl, but I shoved the worry down, climbing out the window and carefully pulling myself on top of the roof.

I saw the lights of the caravan in the distance marking The Saviors approach, a long line of vehicles carrying enough manpower to wipe us off the map. Settling down on the roof I set up my perch, adjusting the scope to account for the faint east to west wind.

"In position," I reported, setting walkie talkie down next to me.

"Do you see him?"

The convoy was stopped outside our gate, The Saviors brazenly stepping out of their vehicles. They weren't scared of us which was a mistake. We may not look like much, but we had it where it counted.

"Negative," I replied. I didn't see Negan anywhere and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Negan, I want to talk to Negan." Maggie's voice was firm over the walkie talkie, not hint of fear I knew she harbored. Shouldering the responsibility of an entire community, including her husband, sister, and unborn child, wasn't something I envied.

"You're speaking to Negan, but my birth certificate says Simon."

I knew of Simon, but despite my capture and subsequent torture I hadn't crossed paths with him much. Essentially, I knew what everyone else did, he was one of Negan's henchmen, and he enjoyed his work immensely. Negan had limits, lines he wasn't willing to cross even if they were few and far between, but the same could not be said for Simon.

"With whom do I have the distinct displeasure of speaking?" he finished.

"Maggie Rhee."

"Oh, I remember you." The levity in his voice made me curl my finger around the trigger. "You're the sister whose husband we didn't kill." He paused but kept the button on the walkie talkie pressed so we could all hear their howling laughter. "How is The Widow by the way? Find a new hubby yet?"

"I have the shot," I said through gritted teeth.

"Hold," Glenn ordered, his voice tight.

Simon continued to cackle. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Negan really wants to bookend this. Think of it as a two-fer or a BOGO special." He slapped Two-Face on the shoulder, the latter not even cracking a smile. "I'm afraid we're gonna have to kill that husband of yours Maggie Rhee. Two sisters...two widows...damn, I like the sound of that! Tragic and poetic all at the same time."

"Right flank in position," Carol's almost boyfriend reported in.

Simon continued his monologue, oblivious to the threat lurking in the woods. "In case it's not already plain as Hilltop potatoes, yours truly is speaking on behalf of Negan this go 'round. And I assure you that the man himself personally received your care package, next day delivery. I noticed it was the box that I gave you in good faith." He shook his head dramatically. "Trick's on me, but the bill's come due, and you and your people are gonna have to pay. Quite dearly, I'm afraid."

"Your 38 people are alive and breathing. Turn around and leave us be and they stay that way." Maggie paused to let the threat sink in. "But if you don't, I have 38 bullets I will personally fire into all 38."

It wasn't an empty threat, but it wasn't going to make a difference. Simon didn't give a rat's ass about the prisoners. He didn't care about anything except power.

"Left flank in position."

Maggie let one of the prisoners speak, but from where I was sitting The Saviors poised to attack looked unmoved by his plea to stand down.

"They aren't going for it. All positions call out your targets," I instructed.

Our shooters responded immediately, picking their targets while Simon told Maggie she could take her deal and shove it. I twisted the scope two clicks, scanning the Saviors standing behind Simon. Their lack of weapons caused me to frown, confused by the unexpected turn of events.

"They don't have guns, only bows and arrows. Somethings not right," I reported, watching Simon and Two-Face argue. "Flank positions you're a go."

There was a brief flick of light when the groups hiding in the woods lit their bombs. The flash of yellow sailed through the air as the sticky bombs hit the vehicles with a wet plop. My body vibrate with anticipation until the first explosion ripped through The Saviors convoy.

The first vehicle jumped in the air, metal grinding violently as it bowed under the heat and stress, windows shattered, sending shards of deadly projectiles into the air like missiles. Another sticky bomb detonated creating a fireball that ballooned out from underneath a truck. The Saviors shouted, trying to flee the gallons of fuel on the verge of causing a secondary explosion, but it was too late. The gasoline ignited with a deafening boom that threw them off their feet. Three more bombs exploded, and Simon screamed for them to attack.

"Debby, now!"

The bright arrow was a stark contrast sailing through the pitch dark sky in a beautiful, deadly arc. The Saviors froze, momentarily stunned. The deadly projectile fell from heaven, heading straight for the hidden trench filled with gallons of flammable oil. Two-Face yelled something and The Saviors scattered like cockroaches when the lights come on. The moment the arrow landed in the trench the oil burst into red-hot flames traveling fast in a circle around The Saviors.

A few trapped in the fiery ring attempted to dive through the blaze only to scream in anguish when they caught fire. Simon rallied those lucky enough to avoid the trap, demanding they attack, but before they could the distinct rumble of a motorcycle drew their attention to the deserted road behind them. Daryl barreled around a corner, firing a semi-automatic rifle mounted on the front of his motorcycle. I adjusted my rifle, aiming and killing a man moving to intercept him allowing my husband to cut a path through our enemy.

"Open the gate!" I screamed into the walkie talkie, taking another shot and watching the man's head whip back, colliding with a car door, and leaving a ghoulish trail of red behind as he slid to the ground. "Left flank, right flank, open fire!"

Muzzle blasts lit up the dark night, The Saviors dropping in groups of two and three. Those still alive retreated to the safety of the few vehicles untouched by our bombs, firing up the engines. I quickly took aim at the tires, taking out two vehicles speeding behind Daryl. Unfortunately, there were far too many vehicles and Saviors to stop.

"Here they come!" I yelled.

A group of Saviors popped up from behind a truck they were using for cover, releasing a flurry of arrows that soared over our high walls. The warning came a second too late, and at least three arrows found their mark though from the looks of it they weren't kill shots.

Daryl skidded to a stop inside Hilltop, jumping off his motorcycle and diving behind a car just as The Saviors unleashed another bevy of arrows. Despite our best efforts The Saviors managed to get two cars inside the walls, but thankfully the rest were stopped by the bus.

"Now!" Maggie's order unleashed the collective firepower of Hilltop.

From every nook and cranny of the community heads popped up, firing relentlessly at The Saviors. I picked my targets, trying to cover those exposed below me. Our counterattack surprised them and made them question their advantage, a number of Saviors attempting to flee Hilltop.

There were still more than enough hardliners who refused to admit defeat. I saw the tips of their arrows poking through the slats in the fence, and adjusted my aim, firing twice. A sick kind of satisfaction built in my gut when my bullets found their mark, but a nagging doubt still lingered. Their choice of weapons made absolutely no sense. They had a stockpile of weapons and ammunition, so why were they using such primitive weapons?

I didn't have time to ponder the oddity, forced to cover Sid who was running around the battlefield wearing catching gear like it would somehow protect him while rendering aid to those in need. My bullet tore through the neck of a man looming over the would-be doctor, ready to strike, and he swallowed hard, giving me a curt nod before scurrying off.

The battle was in full swing now. We had a superior rate of fire, but too many of our shots were missing their intended targets. I cursed as Saviors slipped through our defenses, taking down three people with non-lethal arrows.

"They're inside! Slow down and pick your targets!" I ordered, quickly taking out a Saviors trying to creep up behind Carol's wannabe boyfriend Toby. What I hadn't seen was the second Savior keeping to the shadows. Before I could adjust and fire he lunged, stabbing Toby in the gut.

"Alex, look out!"

My head snapped to the side just in time to see group of Saviors release a volley of arrows headed straight for me. The deadly projectiles floating through the sky made me I yelp in surprise as I rolled to the side to avoid a potentially fatal hit. The grade of the roof made controlling my momentum impossible. My body slid down the side, fingernails scrapping against the rough texture of the shingles in an attempt to stop my decent.

My stomach ended up in my throat when my body went over the side. I grabbed for anything to stop my fall, hands curling around the flimsy gutter, my fall abruptly halted for the moment. The thin metal groaned, and I could hear screws wiggling their way out of the masonry. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Whatever happened to quality craftsmanship?

The metal binding responsible for attaching the gutter to the roof gave way and the metal tore away from the house, bending easily under my weight. My hands were slick with sweat, and I was barely able to hold on when the metal cracked and my gradual fall was increased to a sickening fall that stopped after a few feet. Breathing hard I eyed the gutter which was twisted, a section momentarily wedged against the side of a window, keeping it immobilized.

"Firecracker!" I looked down at Merle who was staring up at me, face grim. "Ya gotta jump!"

"No fucking way!"

I was still at least 30-feet of the ground. If I hit the debris I died. If I landed in the prickly bushes I died. If I somehow missed all that I still had my general lack of luck to contend with so...I died. I wasn't jumping off shit.

A horrible scraping sound made my mouth water as the gutter shuttered and shook. It wasn't going to hold much longer.

"Merle, get her down!" Daryl screamed, trying to fight his way to me only to be pulled behind a car by Carol just as an arrow whizzed over his head.

"I'll catch ya!" I looked down at my brother-in-law then back at the gutter.

"I'll take my chances with the gutter!" Maybe I could reach the windowsill or the tree or maybe I'd just stay here forever. I released my left hand, straining to reach the edge of the house only to yelp and quickly grab it again when the gutter dropped another two feet. "Shit!"

"I'm gonna count to three!" He could fucking count to 100. I wasn't letting go. "One!" I kept my eyes closed, squeezing the gutter as hard as I could. "Two!" My eyes popped open when I heard a whistling sound, a string of arrows in the air and heading straight for me.

"Three!" I screamed, letting go.

My stomach lurched, arms and legs flailing as I fell. Merle didn't so much catch me as our bodies collided, both of us collapsing to the ground with pain filled groans, arms and legs entangled.

"I said on three," he moaned, pushing me off him.

"I hurt."

I sat up gingerly, left hand probing my ribs which felt like crap. A Savior skidded to halt, surprised to find us sprawled in azalea bushes. I pulled my weapon from the holster on my leg faster than he could release an arrow. I exhaled harshly when red mist exploded out of the back of his head.

"Nice shot."

I chuckled, then moaned in pain. "I'd say nice catch, but that was some straight bullshit bro."

He mumbled under his breath, pushing to his feet slowly, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Once he was upright he hauled me to my feet, assessing me for serious injury of which there was none. Nothing was hurt but my pride. Roofs were supposed to my thing.

"Let's go!" Jesus yelled, grabbing my arm as he ran by and hauling me behind him. "We gotta get inside!"

He led us into Barrington House where everyone was setting up for our final push. My eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness when I was engulfed in strong, familiar arms. I sank into him, relieved he was alive and unharmed.

"Ya good?"

"Gotta be."

He released me, holding my face in his hands. He didn't believe me, but now wasn't the time or place. "Come on, this ain't over yet."

We took up a position next to Deadpool and Beth, and I looked around the room. "Where's Rick and Carl?"

"Not back." Deadpool sounded terrified which manifested as outright aggression, and I almost felt sorry for The Saviors. I said nothing. There was nothing we could do for them now. They were on their own just like we were.

I tucked the rifle Daryl handed me into my shoulder, taking a knee by a window while my husband hovered above me. Outside the remaining Saviors were cautiously approaching. I wasn't a fan of this when Maggie proposed it, but the tactic had merit. We'd run from Alexandria to avoid a fight. It stood to reason we'd do it again with our backs against the wall. Our best chance of victory was to draw them into the open.

Closer and closer they came like lambs to the slaughter. I wasn't sure if it was ignorance or arrogance that led to them strutting up to our front door like they were bullet proof, but whatever the reason we were going to exploit it.

Simon whistled, taunting us, and still they crept closer. Hushed whispers floated through the house, the anxiety and nerves palpable. Carol, Ezekiel, and Glenn quieted them, telling everyone to wait. The element of surprise was our only advantage now. If we squandered it we were dead.

When they crossed the invisible threshold Maggie barked out the order, and the headlights of the cars lined up in front of Barrington House came on, illuminating the yard and The Saviors. We opened fire, taking out the wide-eyed Saviors before they could retreat. I squeezed the trigger, firing a short burst that snapped a man's head sideways, blood spraying from whatever pulp of his face remained. I unleashed burst after burst, the pile of bodies outside my window steadily growing. When the machine gun clicked signaling an empty magazine I pressed the release button and replaced it with practice precision.

The muzzle blasts were earsplitting with so many people packed into such a small space. My ears were ringing, but I could still hear the Saviors screams of pain. Not every wound was fatal, too many at Hilltop unpracticed with weapons, but not me. Every shot I took was carefully crafted. I killed any Savior stupid enough to venture into my field of fire.

The familiar feeling of calm washed over me relaxing my muscles and clearing my mind. This was the world I knew, distilled down to its purest form, kill or be killed. The red mist of combat was like an old friend. The heavy scent of gunpowder lingering in the air my chosen perfume. The coppery tang of blood coated my tongue, the stench of death settling into my bones. I was made for moments like this, and though a large part of me knew it was wrong, I savored the feeling.

Some of the remaining Saviors dashed for the safety of nearby cars while others turned and bolted for the front gate only to skid to a stop when Rick and Carl rounded the corner, mowing them down. The rest of the groups stationed in the woods followed, spreading out and moving forward.

My rifle clicked, empty, and I tossed it down, standing and striding for the door. I pulled two knives from my waist, racing headfirst into the ensuing mayhem outside. I heard Daryl call out my name, his boots thumping on the hardwood floor in a desperate attempt to stop me.

Rick stepped out from around the bus, face covered in bruises and blood, eyes wild. He didn't see the Savior sneaking up behind him. I reared back, throwing the knife as hard as I could. The blade hit the man in the throat, his body slamming into the bus as Rick whirled to face the threat. He exhaled harshly watching the man die then turned and gave me a curt nod I returned, drawing another knife, already searching for my next target.

Daryl and Merle appeared on either side, the three of us slaughtering any Saviors stupid enough to face us or not fast enough to get away. Merle lunged to the right to help Mr. Miyagi who was twirling his stick like a man possessed, but was dangerously outnumbered.

Daryl and I fought back-to-back, keeping each other safe. A Savior screamed, coming at me head on, an axe held high over his head. I didn't wait for him to get close, hurling a knife. His eyes bulged when the weapon hit him in the side, his feet tangling and causing him to fall. I bent over him, grabbing the hilt of the knife and jerking it out of the dying man's abdomen, the action making a wet, sloshing sound that made me grin. He gurgled and sputtered, mouth opening and closing repeatedly trying to speak his final words.

He wasn't Negan. In fact, I'd never laid eyes on him before today, but that didn't matter. To me, he was Negan. They were all Negan.

I'd watched enough die to know his wound was fatal, but it wouldn't be quick. It would be a long, slow, agonizing process that brought with it pain the likes of which he'd never experienced. Deep down I knew I should feel something. He was my enemy and he deserved to die but watching a human being suffering should elicit some kind of emotional response, but there was nothing.

The unresponsive emptiness inside me felt endless. Right now I had no capacity for empathy. After everything I'd been though, all I'd survived, the bareness I felt didn't surprise me at all. He'd given me no choice. The Saviors had given us no choice.

He raised his hand briefly, a garbled unintelligible plea slipping between his blood-stained lips. I think he said please, was begging me to kill him, end his suffering, but I didn't move. Mercy was beyond my reach at the moment.

A single gunshot made me flinch, the man's body shuttering briefly before falling still. There was a gaping hole in the side of his head where blood, bone, and brain were leaking onto the ground in large, gelatinous clumps. I glance up at my husband who was holding a rifle and wearing a worried look.

Before I could process his concern or my actions commotion a few feet away drew our attention. Jesus was surrounded by Saviors, the group closing ranks on him. We both took a collective step forward, ready to offer aid, but Beth and Glenn beat us to the punch, the duo sweeping in like a hurricane of death.

Beth fired a gun, twirling in a circle and stabbing a Savior too stunned to react. She fought with a savage grace I'd assume she was born if I didn't have direct evidence to the contrary. Her ferocity wasn't natural. It was born from necessity and fueled by grief.

Glenn was no less lethal, his movements quick and efficient. As a kid growing up on the streets of Atlanta he'd seen his fair share of fighting, and that misfortune served him well now. Still, with every life he ended I saw reluctance, and a heavy dose of remorse. Killing came at a price, and no one felt that more pointedly than Glenn. He fought because he had no other choice. He fought to protect his family, but he loathed every second of it.

Maggie and Rick chased the last of The Saviors out of Hilltop, peppering their tailgate with bullets, chests heaving. I had no idea how many survived, but ultimately it didn't matter. We would find them and finish this. Carl may want us to focus on what came after, but as far as I was concerned this wasn't over until they were all dead.

If the price of survival was my soul I'd gladly pay it.


Little action, little suspense, lots of emotional turmoil. LOL.

The fallout from Alex's regression will take place next chapter then we get into the finale of the war versus The Saviors.

Until next time...