The band of people who set out from the APC was small, but orderly; only three of the marines were alive and conscious, but they'd organized the party enough that they moved smoothly and efficiently. The Dixon brothers took the center position, bearing the unconscious body of Lieutenant Gregory, which was perched precariously on a stretcher they'd pulled from the wreckage of their vehicle. Rosita, having refused to help Gregory at all, took the front, gun at the ready as she looked around for potential attacks, anger in her eyes and on her face each time she checked their rear and her sight passed over Gregory. Shane half-heartedly helped with the stretcher, but he was clearly still angry about the decision to bomb the planet and definitely not helping of his own accord; his hands were slack on the cloth and he held it too low to do any good, so, effectively, he wasn't doing any of the work.

Rick had taken Judith, too afraid to let her go for any other arrangement to work, and they brought up the rear. Dixon had fought against that, had argued that the middle or, at least, the front was safer, but Rick had refused; it was odd, but he actively didn't want Shane at his back unsupervised, or even behind the marines. It was a hell of a change, given that, mere days earlier, Shane had been the one he trusted with his life, had believed would have his back. Now, the thought of Shane at his back was frightening more than anything else.

Their merry - frankly, it was more solemn or mournful or… well, pretty much anything other than merry - band skirted the rocks, trekking across the unfamiliar planet. Their path was somewhat winding, but they took it slowly and steadily, reaching the designated evac point without too much difficulty. Seconds after they got there, Gregory was on the ground and Dixon was lighting a bright red flare and tossing it. Rick watched as it arced, landing gracefully in the middle of a plain and sending bright red smoke into the air.

And then, they waited.

A short while later, Dixon lit another flare, tossing it and letting more red smoke wind its way into the sky. Rick raised his hand to his eyes, squinting against the bright red glow and trying to make out the shape of the dropship.

And then, they waited.

Finally, he saw it, bug-like as it flew closer and made to land on the rocky soil. It was beautiful, for a few short seconds, flying over a ridge as their glorious savior. A few lights visible on the ship from the outside glittered as it rose, an angel ready to reach down and pluck them from the ashes of a truly awful - worse, even, than the Atlanta, perhaps - mission and return them to humanity. Judith was smiling, her teeth showing for the first time since she'd shown up, and Rick was breathing easily for the first time since they'd landed on LV-426.

And then, the ship swerved.

It started very simply, with the ship simply bucking slightly. Rick thought it might just be gravity accelerated it straight at them and he realized that it wasn't going to stop. He couldn't speak, couldn't clear his mind, could only think we're dead, we're dead, we're dead on repeat.

And then, the ship hit the mountain.

Then, Rick could move. Then, he could break free from his mantra, could shout out a "Run!" that, he was sure, was visceral in its fear, despair, panic, pain. Then, he was able to grab Judith and heave her to his hip, sprinting away from the path of the ship as it gouged a jagged streak through the landscape. For a few seconds, Rick could see nothing of the others, could only see rock and fire and Judith, safe in his arms.

Except they weren't safe, because Rick couldn't find much of a place to hide. The only rocks nearby were right in the path of the incoming spaceship and the rest of the area was flat. Eventually, he simply started sprinting towards the cliff face, hoping that would be enough, but he knew, deep in his heart, that it wouldn't be. He could tell from the speed of the vessel, from its sheer size, from the direction of its path.

Except, then, Dixon was there, pointing out a section of rock that looked like just another part of the cliff face, but was actually a crevasse between the rock and another random stone peak, and they were running towards it. Dixon helped get them situated before sliding in himself, shielding them from the crash.

The spaceship hit the ground violently, loud and oppressive, with ten different explosions going off in staggered blasts that sent metal whizzing through the air. Metal pipes flew off in all directions, and one - a piece of rebar about an inch thick - slammed into the ground mere inches away. One piece of rock actually managed to strike a target, and Rick could feel warm, sticky blood amassing on his arm, but he wasn't certain whose blood it was.

He didn't get a chance to check before, once the explosions had died away, Dixon was gone, rolling over and jumping to his feet to take stock of the situation. He checked on each member of their small group - a short but involved inspection of both Rick and Judith, a scan of the horizon to make sure Rosita was okay and on her way (she was), a quick glance at Shane (met with a glare) and his brother (met with a thumbs-up) - as he hurried over to Gregory - still unconscious - to heave a still-flaming piece of the ship's bumper off of his body and onto the other pieces of wreckage.

Merle was digging through the wreckage, frowning and flinging useless pieces of metal away from him. "Well, that's just fucking great, ain't it? The fuck 're we gonna do now, huh? We're in some real pretty shit, now, man."

For the first time since Rick met them, Dixon whirled on his brother, grabbing his collar and shoving him back roughly. "Ya finished? Calm yer ass down, Merle." He turned to Rick, then. "Ya alright?"

Rick nodded, turning to watch Judith clamber over some of the wreckage until she got to the top. Judith was back to being quiet, her voice near silent as she said, "We're aren't leaving now… are we?" Her tone didn't sound like a question, even if it technically was.

Rick shook his head. "I'm sorry, Judith."

She smiled again, but it wasn't the happy, carefree smile she'd had when the dropship was actually on approach. It was sad and small. "Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault."

Merle started shouting again, distracting both Rick and Judith from their conversation. "That's it, then. Game over, man! Game over! The fuck's the plan now, huh? What're we gonna do?"

Shane spoke, then, tone antagonizing, I-told-you-so dripping from it. "Maybe we could build a campfire. Sing songs. Huh, Rick? Wanna try that?"

Judith ignored the shouting behind them. "We should get back. It'll be dark soon, and they mostly come at night." She paused, sniffled. "Mostly." Rick nodded, but they didn't move immediately. Instead, they looked out at the burning dropship, watching the fire blaze.

Game over, Merle had said. Game over.

Rick couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was right.