The Sanctuary
6:00 PM

"Are we going to break for dinner soon?" José asked. "My stomach's growling."

Gavin needed to resume the work on fortifying the fence, but it was getting too dark now. He hoped the construction team had gotten some work done while he wasn't supervising, but he knew from past experience that they tended to lollygag when no one was watching. Of course, what incentive did they have to work other than fear? But now the chance of better pay and promotion might inspire them, or the idea that they themselves have a real part in the community they're building. If they ever began to feel that way.

"We post these jobs in the morning." Gavin tented his fingers on the legal pad. "And we'll post the new rules and penalties as well. I'll give a speech or some shit. Then we all do our usual work."

For Laura, that would be working as an armed guard, for him, as construction foreman. Which meant he would get the 60-point base wage, the 30-point managerial wage, and the 15-points for being a councilman. 105 points a week. He could support Frankie on that. She could also earn points working if she wanted to. Of course, this all assumed Frankie would even agree to move back to the Sanctuary with him. She'd made it pretty damn clear she'd rather not set foot in this place again.

"Meeting adjourned," Gavin said.

Gordon leapt up and hurried from the council chambers as if he had to pee, and Gina and José followed.

Laura stood and shuffled the loose yellow papers together. "You're better at this than you thought you'd be. I guess being a construction foreman taught you a lot of managerial skills."

"Yeah. And every day I came home from work, I'd tell my wife I wanted to quit and just go back to operating a crane."

"Then why didn't you?" Laura asked.

"Mouths to feed. Two little boys. And my wife couldn't work much. She'd started showing symptoms of MS after the second kid, and…" He shook his head. "There are always mouths to feed, aren't there?"

"About sixty to feed here," Laura told him. She patted his shoulder. "Well, at least you've got Frankie. You're going to bring her back here, aren't you, when you go to trade with the Kingdom next week?"

"I'm going to try," he said.

As Gavin stood and exited the council chambers, a worker he'd assigned to radio duty greeted him in the hallway. "There's a woman named Dianne on the radio for you? From the Kingdom?"

Gavin made his way to the radio and took the microphone. "Dianne. Hello there. I didn't even know the Kingdom had a CB. Over."

"Well, we do now. From one of the Saviors' trucks that got left behind in the battle. We brought it in and hooked it up here. Just wanted to let you know your people are settled in here and Ezekiel is fully onboard. Dwight got back here safely with Amber's mother. Benjamin pulled through and is going to be fine. Well, he won't walk for awhile, but he'll be fine. And Frankie's here to talk to you. I'll hand her over."

"Hey, sugar," came Frankie's voice. "I miss you. How are things going at the Sanctuary? Over."

"I miss you, too. Things are…" He sighed. "A lot more complicated here than I anticipated. Over."

"But you'll be back soon, right? I've been decorating our new apartment. Over."

Gavin closed his eyes, steadied his breath, and opened them again. "Yeah, I'll be back in a few days and…we'll talk. About what's going on here and…everything. Over."

"They assigned me a job. I'm doing sports massage therapy, just like in the old world. With all the manual labor these days, people pull muscles and such a lot. I was doing some cross-friction massage on Daniel today for that sprain he got in the battle. He said it really helped. Over."

Daniel. That was the strawberry blonde knight who was also one of Ezekiel's advisors. A good-looking man in his early thirties. Gavin was good with names and faces. It was something he'd learned to get good at as a foreman, but he didn't know the name of every worker in the Sanctuary just yet. He would, by the end of the week. "Could use a good massage myself. Think I sprained my ass sitting in a council meting for almost six hours. Over."

"Council meeting?" Frankie asked. "I thought you were just going there to help repair the damage to the Sanctuary. Over."

"I'll explain in person when I'm there. How's Amber doing? Over."

"She's depressed about losing Mark, of course. But we're all trying to cheer her up. I'm taking her to the movie night tonight. They use the old high school theater and one of those super old fashioned reel projectors. They have all these documentaries and movies based on classic literature they probably showed English and history classes. Wuthering Heights tonight. God, I love this place, Gavin. It's so different from the Sanctuary. I can't wait until you're back and settled here with me. Over."

Gavin let out a long sigh before he pushed down the talk button on the microphone again. "Have fun tonight. I love you, Frankie. I do. Over and out."

Fun Kingdom
10:30 PM

Everyone was sound asleep in the House of the Future, except for Carol, who sat awake in the living room, with the glow of a rechargeable electric lantern on the coffee table. Beth had gone down to the Royal Banquet for the night to stand guard with Dixon, and probably to steal a few kisses from him now that he was declared non-contagious. Sasha was on Patrol, Maggie on the castle tower slides, and Glenn at the gate.

Carol had her AR-15 leaned against the arm of the couch and two toy walkie talkies sitting upright on the coffee table. One was tuned to the frequency the guards and patrol were using to communicate. The other she picked up and tuned to the frequency she used to speak to Daryl. "Pookie, you awake? If so, come in. Over."

Thirty seconds passed and then his voice came through the little crackly speaker beneath the blue plastic of the toy: "Hey, Miss Murphy. Whatchya wearin'?"

Carol brought the walkie talkie to her smiling lips. "Well that depends. What are you wearing? Over."

"Same damn clothes I've had on for three days. Over."

"Well that's not sexy. Where are you? I thought I just heard an owl hoot. Over."

"Had to get out for some fresh air. Sittin' out in back of the theater. Oscar's on guard inside. Eugene's almost symptom-free now, asssitin' Hershel. Tara's fever finally broke. Luke's doin' better, sleepin' now. No one new's ben sent down to the infirmary all evening. Think we're turnin' a corner." Carol could hear the crackle of a cigarette as he inhaled and then the puff of smoke as he exhaled. "Can't wait to see you in the mornin', when my 24-hour sentence is up. Over."

"You are not seriously smoking after just recovering from a respiratory infection. Over."

"Ain't like I'm coughing anymore." He coughed. "Much. And Hershel says my lungs sound fine. No wheezing anymore. Over."

"Put it out," Carol ordered. "Over."

"A'right, just stubbed it out. Over."

"No, you did not. I could hear you sucking at the end of your sentence there."

"Wish I could hear you suckin'."

"Daryl, put it out. Please."

They had stopped saying over and were just letting the natural pauses tell them when to let go of the talk buttons.

"Fine," Daryl muttered. "Hear that?" There was the sound of a boot stomping on pavement. "That was me putting it out. Now in exchange - you tell me what you're wearin'."

"Oh, we're really doing this, are we?" she asked with a smile. "Okay. I'm wearing a very short, straight black skirt," she teased, "red high heels, and a tight, white blouse with the first three button loosened to show just a little cleavage. No bra, no panties at all. I'm going to our bedroom right now for some privacy. I just shut the door." In fact, she hadn't moved from the living room couch. "So tell me what you want to do to me."

"Uhh…" Daryl laughed excitedly. "Everything."

Carol chuckled. "Want to try to be more specific?"

"You uh…you gonna touch yourself?"

She didn't reply because Glenn's voice burst onto the walkie talkie: "Y'all know, don't you, that anyone turning through the three channels these toy walkie talkies can manage to pick up can hear you, right? Over."

"Then get off this fuckin' channel you voyeur perv!" Daryl barked. "Over."

"I got on this channel because Carol wasn't answering on either of the other two channels," Glenn said. "Over."

Carol picked up the other toy walkie talkie and saw the little green light wasn't on anymore. "Shit. The battery in the one I had tuned to the other channel must have died. I'm sorry, Glenn. What's going on? Over."

"Morales is at the gate. He's covered in blood and he's begging us to let him and his kids in. I think you better get down here right now. Over."

"I'm on my way," Carol told him. "Over and out."

Carol snatched up her rifle, roused Michonne to keep guard at the house, and then went outside and hopped on a Segway to head for the front of the park. When she got there, she jerked the vehicle to a stop, hopped off it, and hurried to the gate to look Morales over. There was blood splattered on his shirt and some dried on his cheeks and forehead. It looked like he'd wiped it away from off his nose and around his eyes. "What the hell happened?" Carol asked.

Behind him, pulled up over the curb and parked on the cement walkway facing the gate, was that battered eighteen-wheeler truck the Saviors had filled with supplies looted from the Woodbury storehouse.

Morales exhaled shakily. "The kids and I were asleep in our tent at our temporary camp. At this park. Molls was on guard. Everyone else was supposed to be asleep. But then these two Saviors came in my tent, attacked me, bound and gagged me. They gagged and bound Lousie, too, and then one held Eliza's hands behind her back while the other threatened to rape her right in front of me."

Carol felt sick to her stomach. Eliza was just twelve. A few months younger than Sophia.

"And Molls," Morales spat, "she just stood there on watch smoking. Like she didn't see or hear any of it. Like it had nothing to do with her."

"Where was Shane in all this?" Carol asked.

"Shane woke up," Morales said. "Thank God, before that man could touch her. Shane shot him as he was unbuckling his belt and getting ready to…" Morales gritted his teeth and shook his head. "He shot straight through the tent and through the side of the man's head. That's where the blood spatter came from on me. And then when the other Savior let go of Eliza's arms to grab for his gun, and she ran to me, Shane shot him, too. Molls turned to shoot Shane after he killed those two Saviors, so he shot her, too."

"Holy..." Glenn muttered.

"Eliza unbound me," Morales continued, "and by then the other six Saviors were all awake. When they saw the three Saviors Shane had shot, they turned on him. Shane killed three of them. Three more hopped on motorcycles and roared off. Shane went after them in the Humvee. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if they might kill Shane and then come back to the camp after me. After my kids. I can't trust those people. So I took the truck with all your supplies, and I came here. The kids are asleep on the floor of the cab. They cried themselves back to sleep. Please let us in, Carol. Please! I need to get my kids safe behind these gates. I'll give you all the supplies in that truck. We'll quarantine anywhere you want, in any building you want, for as many days as you want. Please, just let us in!"

"Of course. Of course, you poor things." Carol nodded to Glenn, who unlatched the gate. She felt suddenly, sickly guilty for letting him walk away earlier today, for letting those kids go off with those monsters. But she couldn't think of an excuse for letting Morales in without letting Shane in, too.

"Can the truck fit through the gate?" Morales asked. "I don't want to wake the kids and make them get out, and I should probably bring the supplies to your warehouse anyway."

"Our oil tankers got through," Glenn said. "It'll be tight, but it can fit. Just drive carefully."

"Follow me to the warehouse," Carol told him. "You three can quarantine at a shop nearby it. You can probably carry in the kids from there without waking them. And we'll check your symptoms. If you have none for twenty-four hours, we'll let you out of quarantine."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Morales tented his hands together. "Thank you, Carol."

"Of course." She glanced toward the truck and felt her heart cinch for Eliza, who must have been terrified by what had happened. "Let Sasha and Maggie and Dixon know what's going on," Carol told Glenn. "So they don't worry if they see the truck pull in."

Glenn nodded and got on the walkie talkie. After Morales had slowly and carefully eased the truck through the wide open iron gate, Glenn swung the gate shut and locked it again. Carol got on the Segway and lead the truck to the warehouse.

When she had arrived at the warehouse, Carol pulled to a stop. The brakes of the truck hissed behind her. She turned off the Segway and stepped off it backwards and heard Morales opening the driver's side door and stepping down.

As she turned to face him, she said, "We'll unload the truck to-" She stopped mid-word because she was staring at the barrel of a 9 mm handgun that was pointed right between her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Carol. Really I am," Morales told her. "They threatened my kids if I didn't do it. I had no choice."

The back of the truck rolled up from the inside with a clatter and a clang. Shane, rifle in hand, and a grenade clipped to his belt, leapt out. Eight of the nine Saviors – everyone except Molls – jumped out after him. Then even more soldiers, soldiers who hadn't been with Shane when he was at their gates earlier today – seven of them – spilled out of the truck, all heavily armed with semi-automatic rifles and extra, fully-loaded magazines clipped to their belts.