"You die now," came a harsh whisper as walkers filtered out of the mist.
"Go," Michonne ordered. "Go, I'll cover you."
Aaron and Daryl quickly got on either side of Jesus and lifted him as the bow wielding woman grabbed the discarded walker mask. Anna and Michonne stepped forward, slashing down any walker that got too close. One walker ran forward, knife raised, only to fall flat on their face with an arrow to the forehead.
"Come on! Let's go!" Daryl called from the other side of the gate.
Anna and Michonne turned and ran through the gates, allowing Daryl to shut and lock it behind them. The group wasted no time in leaving the cemetery. Anna glanced at Jesus in Daryl and Aaron's arms, her chest constricting painfully. She decided to pretend it was only her asthma until they were out of danger.
.
.
"Shouldn't we give it a little longer?" Alden asked, leaning over the map.
"I mean, it's almost been a full day since they went out looking," Enid said from his left.
"And, given what Rosita said…. Maybe we should have two-person teams loop around their part of the grid. See what we see," Jessie suggested, gesturing to the area Michonne and Anna would have gone to look for the others.
"Okay," Tara said. "Let's do it. One loop, no risks. And get Oscar from the gate. We're gonna need a fourth."
"I'll do it."
Everyone looked up to see Luke standing awkwardly.
"Hey, uh…, Luke here," he introduced. "Uh, just say you needed an extra hand? 'Cause I got two. Um…," he cleared his throat. "You need help, I'm your guy."
Jessie cocked a brow at him; Luke's uncertainty was worrisome.
"Um… Connie and Kelly, they're—they're in the gardens already. And Magna and Yumiko, they're—they're out there," Luke explained. "I just wanna do my part."
"He can ride with me," Alden offered.
"Cool," Luke said, grinning. "All right."
"Alden," Alden introduced, shaking Luke's hand.
"Hey. Two-Hand Luke," Luke joked. "How you doin'? That was a bad joke. Uh, thank you. Cool."
Jessie huffed a laugh before heading to the stables to get a horse, gesturing for D.J. to follow him.
"Shouldn't you stay with Rosita?" D.J. asked.
"She's resting right now, and Siddiq is watching her," Jessie assured. "And we won't be gone long."
D.J. nodded. Without further discussion, the two gathered their gear and saddled up.
.
.
"Who the hell would do this?" Yumiko asked as the group arrived at the house where they had stashed the horses—evidently, Magna and Yumiko had found the safe spot to leave their horses as well. "Even think about doing this?"
"I suspect some vessel filled with a chunky salsa of abnormal impulses and metastasized rage," Eugene said, his teeth clenched in pain as Michonne helped him walk.
"It's full-on batshit," Magna said.
"You think there's more?" Aaron asked, holding up the left side of Jesus.
"Yeah," Daryl said, from the right of Jesus.
"No way that was all of them," Anna agreed, carrying Jesus's feet.
"So, what do we do?" Yumiko asked as she and Magna pulled a section of fence down to get to the horses.
"Right now, keep moving," Michonne said.
Daryl and Aaron loaded Jesus's body onto one of the horses as Michonne and Anna helped Eugene on to another; Magna and Yumiko climbed onto one of the remaining two. Anna took the reins of the last horse and led it out of the yard, checking to make sure they were in the clear before gesturing for the others to follow.
They traveled for a while in silence, Dog running ahead to check for threats. Anna tried to push away the thought of Jesus hanging over the back of the horse like some sort of ragdoll instead of being astride it like the vibrant man he was. She couldn't help the small smile that came onto her face as she remembered that first trip to Hilltop.
"I wish I'd met him before," Magna said, breaking the quiet. "Sounds like he was a good one."
"He was," Aaron said from where he led Jesus's horse. "Shouldn't have been out here."
"It's my fault," Eugene said. "If I hadn't—"
"Jesus made his own decisions," Aaron snapped, cutting Eugene off. "We all knew the risks of being out here. Knowing we shouldn't be. Maybe what happened was bound to happen."
Dog began to bark, staring off to the left of the trail.
"We got some tails," Magna said.
"The living kind or original recipe?" Eugene asked warily.
Anna spotted the small group of walkers stumbling along in the trees. Up ahead, she saw a covered bridge.
"Let's find out," Daryl said. "Good dog."
.
They crossed the bridge, leading the gaggle of walkers inside. Daryl stood at the end, crossbow ready to start testing who was dead and who wasn't. Aaron and Eugene stayed hidden, while Yumiko and Magna waited off to either side of Daryl. Anna and Michonne snuck back across the dried-out stream to trap the living within.
Daryl fired his first bolt into the leg of the right-most walker. It continued advancing and he loaded another bolt. He fired into another male walker. He immediately collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain, and three of the nearest walkers turned on him, falling to their knees to devour. The final two, a male and female, staggered to a stop and turned to leave, only to see Anna and Michonne waiting for them, weapons drawn.
The male pulled a blade from his sleeve and charged forward.
"I got this," Michonne said, meeting him halfway. She slashed his torso before running him through.
The female looked between the group as Yumiko and Magna appeared. She pulled a knife from her sleeve.
"Drop it!" Daryl demanded, pulling his own knife.
Anna ran forward, ready to strike her with the blunt end of her spear when the woman dropped the knife and fell to her knees, hands up in surrender. She stared wide-eyed at them, taking shuddering breaths. Daryl snatched the mask from her head. Anna was stricken by how young she was.
"Please," she breathed. "Please don't kill me. Please."
Daryl tossed the mask to Anna.
"How many?" She asked, holding out the mask.
"Please," the girl stammered, tears streaking down her face. "You killed them all. It's just me now."
"I don't believe you," Michonne hissed, holding her bloodied sword to the girl's neck.
There was a distant growling, and Anna looked over her shoulder to see a small herd of walkers heading toward them.
"There ain't no time," Daryl said, seeing them as well. "We'll take her with us."
Michonne's eyes snapped to Daryl, incredulous. Daryl nodded patiently at her and she relented, taking her sword away from the whimpering teen.
"Get up," Daryl ordered, pulling the girl up by her shirt.
"Hey!" Michonne snapped, getting in the girl's face. "You try anything, you won't have to pretend."
"Let's go," Daryl said, dragging her off.
Anna threw the mask to the ground and followed after them.
.
"Get inside," Daryl said, forcing the girl into the cellar. Michonne stepped in after her.
"Daryl? Anna?" Came Henry's voice. "What's going on?"
It took Anna a second to spot him; Henry was standing at the bars of a cell.
"What—" Anna began, but decided she could learn why he was in jail later. "Jesus is dead," she said.
"What?" Henry asked.
"No more bullshit!" Michonne shouted.
Anna turned to see the woman hovering over the young girl, who was cowering in a chair in the middle of one of the other cells.
"I already told you—" the girl cried.
"How many more of you are there?" Michonne interrupted.
"They're all dead. My family's dead. Please, just stop," the girl sobbed.
"Not until you start answering our questions," Michonne hissed.
"Your name. Start with your name," Tara said, coming into the cell.
"I told you, I don't have one," the girl insisted. "None of us do. None of us did. That's not how it worked."
"How did it work?" Michonne asked.
"Why do you wear their skins?" Daryl asked.
She didn't speak, and he lunged forward, leaning into her face.
"Answer!" He yelled.
"They were—they were good people," she sobbed. "We were good. It's what we did to live. That's—that's all we wanted to do. Live."
Anna frowned, standing outside of the cell as she watched the girl look around at them in pure terror.
"Oh, you're saying you had to do this?" Tara challenged.
"You wouldn't understand," the girl huffed, sucking in a shuddering breath.
"Then make us understand," Michonne snapped. "What the hell were you doing?"
"We—we were just trying to see if they were good people, too. But then you attacked us, and now they're dead," the girl spat. "They're all dead. And I don't have anything."
"What did your people know about us?" Michonne asked, her voice low as she got in the girl's face. "Do they know about this place?"
The girl mumbled something.
"Huh?" Michonne shrieked.
"I don't know!" The girl repeated. "I don't know anything. They didn't tell me anything. Please stop asking me. Just leave me alone, please. Please, just leave me alone."
The girl began to hyperventilate and Anna clenched her jaw, feeling a tightness in her chest. She was just a kid. Probably spent her formative years living like that and didn't know any better.
"Guys," Anna called and they all looked at her, including the girl.
She silently gestured for them to leave. There was a moment she wondered if they would ignore her and continue, but Daryl was the first to go. The others followed him out. Anna lingered for a few seconds before she stepped forward.
The girl flinched back, falling out of her chair and scooting back against the wall, holding her knees to her chest.
Anna paused. Then she closed the cell door, locked it, and left the cellar.
.
"I don't trust a word coming out of her mouth," Michonne said.
"We'll get it out of her," Daryl assured.
Anna sighed, standing beside Daryl. She wasn't sure how she felt about what was happening, but she knew it needed to be done. That's what had to matter. Nothing else.
"We can try again in the morning," Tara suggested.
"You'll have to do it without me," Michonne said. "Taking my people back first thing. Can't risk them not knowing about this back home."
"Okay," Tara nodded. "Thanks… for being here and for helping. That group you brought in— I'm gonna let them know they can stay. Guess it's my call now. That's what he would've done."
Since Jesus was gone, Hilltop had immediately placed Tara in charge. Unsurprising, given all the woman had done for the community since jumping ship at Alexandria. Tara had grown a lot from the person she was on the other side of that fence at the prison. She'd become stronger, surer.
"Thanks, Tara," Michonne said.
Tara nodded and walked off, leaving Anna, Daryl, and Michonne alone.
"Keeping her here is a risk," Michonne said, turning to the couple. "You know that. We all do."
Anna exhaled heavily and nodded, folding her arms over her chest as she frowned.
"Yeah. I know," Daryl agreed. "I'll get her to talk."
Anna grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. She decided she didn't like it. Any of it.
"If she doesn't…," Michonne began. "You know what you have to do."
.
.
Eugene clutched Jessie and Rosita's hands on either side, shaking like a leaf as Siddiq aligned his knee back into the socket. Jessie and D.J. had returned from their search roughly thirty minutes before Anna and the others arrived with an injured Eugene, a strange girl, and a dead Jesus.
"Here we go," Siddiq said. "And—" Jessie flinched at the loud, disgusting snap. "And it's in. See? Not so bad."
"S-says you," Eugene hissed before taking a breath. "Apologies for the attempted bites and scratches. Involuntary pain responses and whatnot."
"It's all right," Siddiq chuckled. "I'm gonna go grab a bandage. A few weeks of moderate compression and you'll be good as new. You both will," he said, looking to Rosita.
"I'm gonna go get you some more water," Rosita announced, standing from her chair only for Eugene to grab her hand again.
"I—I was scared as hell you didn't make it. Truly," he stammered out. "I'm torn to tethers about Jesus, but if anything had happened to my best friend—"
"Eugene, I'm fine," she smiled, patting his hand before her smile faltered. "I'm—uh," her chest heaved.
"Ro?" Jessie asked.
"I'm sorry, I—" she cut herself off, her skin paling before she whirled around and ran out of the trailer.
Jessie and Eugene looked to each other in confusion. Getting up from his chair quickly, Jessie followed Rosita out to see her bracing herself against her knees and puking into the grass.
"You okay?" Jessie asked.
"I'm fine," Rosita assured, waving him off as she stood and wiped her mouth.
"All right, well, maybe let Siddiq run some tests—"
"Really, I'm fine," Rosita huffed.
"You've been through a lot, Ro. You—"
"It's not that, okay?" Rosita said, shaking her head with a small smile.
"Then what?" Jessie huffed.
Rosita sighed, looking around before she looked him in the eye.
"I'm pregnant."
Jessie blinked at her a moment, his mouth dropping open awkwardly.
"Oh...kay…," he said.
.
.
Daryl and Henry sat on the bench, watching two Hilltoppers digging the grave they'd be placing Jesus in. He was still having trouble believing he was dead. How long ago had it been since they'd fought each other in that field over a truck of supplies?
"Does alcohol always make you feel this bad?" Henry asked, pulling Daryl from his thoughts.
"No," Daryl said. "But actin' stupid does. What the hell were you thinkin', anyway?"
"I wasn't," Henry sighed. "Fresh air is helping, though."
"Well, don't get too used to it. Two minutes, your ass is goin' right back in there," Daryl said.
"Seriously?" Henry scoffed.
"Earl says you got one more night. So, you got one more night," Daryl shrugged.
"Daryl, I'm sorry, really. I—" Henry began, and he thought the boy would try to talk his way out of the punishment. "I guess I want to find my place. And I knew who I was at the Kingdom. But who am I here?"
He understood that feeling all too well. They all had to find their place at some point, to figure out who they were. After Rick—he'd felt lost. He still wasn't sure where his place was anymore.
"Tell you this," Daryl said, shifting in his seat, "whoever you are ain't at the bottom of a damn bottle."
Or wandering around the woods.
.
Daryl stepped out onto the porch, looking around at the Hilltop. It had been so long since they'd been here—he couldn't say he exactly missed it, but it was all right being back. It would be good for Anna. She needed people. A lot more than she was willing to admit.
The past five months had been hard on her. They'd been hard on him, too. There were some days when he couldn't even look at Anna. Guilt always ate away at him. He felt as though he had failed somehow, as if there was something—anything—he could've done. It was like that when they'd first learned from the doctors of the damage from Jed's shot. Seeing her suffering from it again after six years; Daryl thought he had moved past the need to hunt Jed down.
He took a deep breath and shook his head, clearing away those thoughts. By the stables, he saw Michonne and Aaron talking beside their wagon, seeming to be preparing to leave for Alexandria. He started toward them. As he neared, Aaron walked off.
"Hey," Michonne greeted.
"Hey," Daryl nodded back. "You headed out already?"
"Yeah, we've got to go back as soon as possible," Michonne said, and she shook her head, frowning. "Alden and Luke should've been back by now. Could be nothing. Could be something." She gave Daryl a meaningful look. "You know what you're gonna do with that girl?"
"Why is this even up to me?" Daryl huffed.
"'Cause you're the best damn judge of character I know," Michonne said. "Without Jesus or Maggie, these people need you and Anna."
"They got Tara," he pointed out.
"Tara's smart, but she shouldn't do it alone," Michonne insisted before looking out over the rest of Hilltop. "What we did, bringin' Jesus back, it's gonna help them move on. But after that," she looked back at him, "it's about doing whatever it takes to not bury more."
Daryl inhaled and exhaled heavily.
"All right," he finally said.
.
.
Anna and Jessie sat beside each other on the front steps of the house, letting the breeze wash over them. They had spent the better part of an hour catching up on the last five years.
Jessie told her about how she would love the Dungeons and Dragons game he and Eugene had started up with a few others, about his relationship with Rosita, about the radio he'd been working on, and about how much he had missed her. He admitted that he'd tried to sneak out to find her on multiple occasions, but something had always stopped him—mostly Michonne.
Anna told him about some of the poems and short stories she'd written, the time she spent helping Hilltop with the sickness, and Maggie leaving. She told him about how she'd started growing potatoes and that she'd need to go back to the cabin soon to tend to them. She told him how much she'd missed him, too, and that it was hard not to resent Michonne for their separation.
What Anna didn't tell him was about the pain she and Daryl had suffered, about the anger she felt, stopping short of this past winter. When she got to that point in her story, Anna paused, furrowing her brow and clenching her fists in her lap. She wanted to tell him, to find comfort in him—she knew doing so would help the aching in her chest.
"I wish you would stay," she said instead.
"I wish I could," Jessie sighed.
"Michonne can't make you go back—you could stay for a little bit, then head back to Alexandria later," she suggested.
Jessie shook his head.
"I have to go back. I have to be with Rosita," he explained.
"Rosita would understand," Anna assured, finding the courage to finally say it. "Jess, I—"
"Rosita's pregnant."
Anna tensed. It was as though her head was filled with static as she tried to process what he had just told her. An ugly feeling sprang up in her chest. Jealousy. She forced it down, unwilling to entertain it for even a moment. She was happy for them.
"That's amazing," she said, allowing a smile to spread across her face.
"It is," Jessie agreed. "I never imagined having kids, but… I don't know, I'm excited."
"You're going to be a great dad," Anna said, patting him on the shoulder.