11:40 PM
Fun Kingdom
Sophia was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket when Carol got back, with a single propane lamp lighting the room on an end table. She was just staring into the glow.
"Go to sleep, Sweetie," Carol told her.
"I can't. How's Patrick? And Carl?"
"Dr. Stevens won't let anyone in the infirmary who doesn't have severe symptoms. But we have walkie talkies and she's keeping me posted. She'd tell me if they took a turn for the worse." She'd tell her if they were dead, but Carol didn't want to say that. She sat down next to Sophia on the couch. "Is Mika asleep?"
"She cried herslef to sleep."
Carol held our her arm. "Come here, sweetheart."
Sophia leaned over and settled her head on her mother's shoulder.
11:45 PM
Woodbury
From the platform on the fence beside Rosita, Abraham coughed.
"You should go to the infirmary." Several more soldiers and civilian volunteers were in the infirmary now, including Jocelyn, who was in very bad shape.
"It's just the spring pollen," Abraham insisted.
"It's not just the pollen and you damn well know it. There's sweat on your brow."
"I've been working."
"Christ, Abraham!"
"Okay. I do have symptoms. But you damn well know I'm more likely to get even sicker in the infirmary with those people who are farther along. And whether I'm sick or not, I'll need to fight through it."
"Dr. S is trying to quarantine anyone with symptoms."
"That's half of us now!" Abraham barked. He nodded to a soldier on the ground by one of the portholes in the fence and who had just coughed. "Who would be left to fight? Until I'm coughing up blood like the people in the infirmary, I'm on this fence."
Rosita didn't argue because he was right. If they quarantined everyone with mild or moderate symptoms, they'd be overrun when Simon came. They had to reserve the infirmary for the worst cases. All they could do now was pray that if Simon was going to come, he'd come soon, before too many more soldiers were incapacitated.
11:50 PM
Fun Kingdom
Daryl, who still sat in the back row of the theater, put his arm across his mouth and hacked into it. Dixon, because he was in pretty good shape - better than a lot of them in here - was driving Mrs. Richards and Eilleen through the park to the infirmary in Daryl's old pick-up. Both women had begun coughing up blood. Another woman had taken charge of Eileen's baby, which was now asleep in her arms where she sat in the front row of the theater. The baby startled awake and cried everytime the woman coughed, but then went back to sleep again suckling on a bottle of sugar water.
When he stopped coughing, Daryl looked up from his seat at the African-American man standing a row ahead of him and holding a lantern. He was wearing a priest's collar. "I'm Father Gabriel." The man covered a cough with his fist. After clearing his throat, he asked, "May I pray for you?"
"Ain't got to ask my permission for what goes on in your head."
"Okay then. You're Daryl, right?" When Daryl nodded, Father Gabriel bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Dear Lord, watch over this your – "
"- Didn't mean aloud!"
Father Gabriel opened his eyes and lifted his head. "That's how I pray."
"Don't the Bible say go in your closet, and shut the damn door, and pray in secret, where the rest of us don't have to hear it?"
"So you're familiar with the Bible?" Father Gabriel asked in surprise.
"Grew up in backwoods Georgia. 'S like askin' if I'm familiar with a rifle. Now leave me alone and go pray in your head."
"All right then."
As Father Gabriel began to turn away, Daryl said, "Hey!" Father Gabriel turned back. "Throw in a prayer for m'wife Carol and m'gril Sophia while you're at it. That they don't end up in this theater."
Father Gabriel smiled. "Will do." And then he walked on.
11:55 PM
The Kingdom
After making love, Gavin and Frankie lay on a sleeping bag on top of a gym mat on the faux marble floor of the classroom where they were spending the night. Frankie had her chin settled on her hand on Gavin's bare chest and listened to him as he recapped his conversation with Laura. "So tomorrow we head to the Sanctuary," he concluded.
She turned her eyes up to his. "I thought we would settle here. In the Kingdom. It's beautiful. The gardens. The kids. The music. I even kind of like the whole…fairy tale thing."
"It's bullshit," Gavin muttered. "Make believe."
"But it's kind of fun. And it's safe. It's a community. It's a real community. People take care of the sick and wounded, and no one has to fuck the king to get it done, either. I really hoped we'd stay. I want to stay."
"Not going to happen," he told her. "Ezekiel made it abundantly clear he wants no ex-Saviors here."
"I can't go back to that concrete fortress. Not with the bad memories there. You didn't fight this war for us to go back there. Please? Gavin, please say we're not going back there."
He sighed. "We'll bring the surrendered Saviors back there. I'll help Laura secure and fix up the place, establish a plan. Get things in order. And then…Laura can have the Sanctuary. You and me, and whoever wants to join us – probably Dwight, Sherry, Tina, and DJ, maybe Alden. Maybe my two outpost workers. We'll find somewhere else to live."
"Where?"
"I don't know. The chemical plant outpost is probably blown to shit after they attacked it looking for me. Not to mention the booby traps we set. I doubt it's inhabitable. But maybe one of the other outposts is. Jed's or Regina's or Simon's. They were all abandoned for the war, except a few workers left behind to keep things clean and up and running. I'm sure those workers would just as soon work for me."
"But the outposts are fed by collections from the communities. Can we really support ourselves?"
"We'll start gardens. We'll hunt, as best we can. I went hunting a few times with my uncle. I can maybe figure it out. And maybe we can offer protection."
She jerked her head up. "What? Go back to the extortion racket?"
"I mean a voluntary trade. Keep the roads around the communities clear of the undead for a negotiated price in goods. Provide extra armed escort to supply runners and travelers…help with search parties when people go missing. Security work for hire. No compulsion. I uh…suggested doing it that way to Negan once."
"And how did that go over?"
"Like a lead balloon. He said no one would pay us a fair price and it would be too much work. I said clearing walkers would be no more work than keeping a thumb on the communities. He asked if I was questioning his wisdom, and I…well. I dropped it."
She sighed. "I wish we could stay here. They eat meals together. They have bee hives. And horses."
Gavin stroked her hair. "Home is where you hang your hat. We'll find a home. I know I won't be able to give you a fairy tale like the Kingdom or even the luxury Negan gave you in that harem, but you'll be free. Including free to dump me anytime you want."
"Trust me. The luxury of the harem wasn't worth the price I paid for it." She shook her head. "I was a coward."
"You were coerced. He made your work conditions unberable so you'd choose the harem."
Frankie leaned down and kissed his lips. "I'm not dumping you, you know."
"Not even for a fairy tale knight?"
Frankie chuckled. "Get some sleep. You've had three hours in the last forty." She lay down and rolled on her side. He turned with her, slung an arm around her, and closed his eyes.
March 24
12:25 AM
Fun Kingdom
Sophia was asleep on the living room couch, but at least she was asleep. Carol's walkie talkie crackled: "Come in, Carol. Over." She eased into a standing position, letting Sophia droop down onto a pillow. Then she stepped into the dinning room with the oil lamp to answer in a low voice.
"This is Carol. Over."
"Mr. Jacobson didn't make it," Dr. Stevens said. "Neither did Mrs. Richards. Patrick, Carl, Duane, and Eileen are still hanging in. I've put the dead bodies out back. Maybe they could be buried in the morning. Over."
"Don't you think it's best to burn them as soon as possible to prevent any further contagion? I can come and do a controlled burn. I know you're too busy. I'll mask up and wear gloves. Over."
"I hate not giving them a proper burial, but I think you're right. It's the safest course of action. And..." She trailed off. She didn't want to say, Carol guessed, that there might be a lot more bodies to come, too many graves for those who weren't quarrantined to dig. "I think it would be for the best. Thank you. Over and out."
Carol closed her eyes and exhaled. She felt sad for Mr. Jacobson and Mrs. Richards and whoever they had left behind, but she was also guiltily glad it wasn't Carl or Patrick who had died. And they'd come down sicker sooner than either of those two. Maybe there was hope they'd pull through.
The toy walkie talkie on her other hip cracked now, the one Hershel had the match to. But it was Daryl's voice that came over, "Hey, Miss Murphy." Cough. "Whatcya wearin'?"
She unhooked the walkie and pressed the talk button. "Hey, Pookie. How are you doing? Over."
"Hangin' in there." Cough. "Listen, Hershel wants you to bring five gallons of water. And also a can of formula. For the baby. Since Eileen ain't here no more. Over."
"I'll drop it by on my way...to do some other things." He didn't need to hear where this diesae had already ended up for two Woodbury residents. "I'll knock three times again. Anything else you need? Over."
"Need to bust this joint." Cough. "Fuck m'wife good." Cough. "But guess that's gonna" Cough "have to wait, huh? Over."
"I'm afriad so. But I promise, when this is all over...good and hard. Over."
"I love you, Carol. So goddamn much." Cough. Cough. "Don't get this shit." Cough. Cough. Cough. "Over" cough-cough-cough-cough "and out."
12:30 AM
Woodbury
From her post on the fence, Rosita could see the homing pigeon soaring through the night sky from the west. It shot over Abraham's head and toward its roost inside Woodbury.
Simon was coming.
"Preeeeeepare!" Abraham boomed, and those who had been sleeping in shifts were quickly roused from their sleep by other soldiers. "From the west!"
Safeties clicked off of guns and six soldiers, including the recruits from Terminus – Gareth, Martin, and Alex - clambered up the ladders to the platform on the fence. Seven more, including Tyreese, Andrea, Sasha, and Bob, took up position below to shoot through portholes in the fence. They smacked open the portholes, raised their rifles, and stared down their scopes through the open holes. Bob stood with his medical bag by his side, ready to drop his gun and treat the wounded if the time came. Another three soldiers, including Morgan with his staff, lingered near the gate ready to do hand to hand combat with anyone who breached the gate. And then there was the crew in the woods – Rick, Tara, Oscar, Axel, and Haley.
Twenty-three soldiers not hacking up blood in the infirmary. Twenty-three soldiers to deal with Simon's forty or however many more he had collected between North Carolina and Woodbury.
"Down!" Abraham boomed. The soldiers on the fence's platform squatted down out of view of the top of the fence – everyone except Rosita and Abraham, who remained exposed. They had bullet-proof vests on underneath their button-down shirts. They both held simple, single-feed bolt action rifles so they would appear to be lacking in firearms and would give their would-be invader a false sense of security.
A military truck, an armored vehicle, and an eighteen-wheeler rumbled down the roadway. The vehicles came to a stop with hissing brakes when they reached the gate of Woodbury. The armored vehicle turned and began driving forward toward the gate but squealed to a sudden stop right before the moat, into which it had almost driven.
The doors to the armored vehicle flew open and four heavily armed men spilled out. One placed a hand on both his hips, looked at Rosita and Abraham on the fence, and then took a step forward to peer down at the walkers thrashing in the moat. "Nice idea you've got here!" he called up to them. "I'd have loved something like this at my outpost."
"He's got your mustache," Rosita whispered.
"That's nothing like my beautiful masterpiece," insisted Abraham, stroking his own. "That's some 70s porn stash he's got going."
"I'm Simon," the man announced, "and I come in peace."
"Doesn't look too peaceful," Rosita called. "With all those trucks and guns. How many armed men you got in there?"
"A few," Simon replied. "But we're just looking for a new home. If you'd open up the gate for us and lower that drawbridge I see there, we'll move our stuff on in. Even help you govern the place."
"I don't think so," Rosita replied.
"I don't think you're really in a position to resist," Simon told her, "based on those rifles there." He looked left and right. "And I don't see any vehicles but a rusty old pick-up." That was because they'd hidden their military truck and armored vehicle in the woods. All the motorcycles were inside the gates. Their plan was to wait until Simon exposed his soldiers to open fire. To get him to expose them, they needed him to feel comfortable doing so. "So I advise, if you'd like your town to remain intact and not be burned to the ground, that you welcome us inside."
"Not going to happen," Abraham told him. Then he began to cough.
"Quite the cough you got there," Simon said. "Are you sure you're in fighting condition? Last chance to do this the easy way and lower that drawbridge."
Rosita and Abraham remained silent.
"Well, then…" Simon snapped his fingers, and a soldier came out of the back of one of the military trucks holding an RPG. The soldier with the RPG took a step back to position it. Just as he did so, an arrow flew through the trees behind him and penetrated his neck. He gurgled, dropped the unfired RPG, and clawed at his neck as he fell face first into the truck. In response, one of the three men flanking Simon swiveled and opened fire on the trees while a dozen more men spilled out of the military truck, taking steps toward the woods and firing blindly. One scrambled to pick up the RPG.
That was when Rosita hit the detonation button she held at her side. Her wick sparked, lighting the fuse and spreading fire from one stick of TNT into another in boom after boom after boom until one of those booms struck the right spot, exploding the man who had just grabbed the RPG and sending bits of his body flying through the air as Simon ducked for cover. The explosion took out six more soldiers and set the left side of the thier military truck on fire. This caused a dozen more soldiers to spill out of the truck, three burning and dropping and rolling, the rest unscathed and turning to spray gunfire at the fence, where the Woodbury soldiers had begun shooting from the portholes and had sprung up from their crouched position on the platform to open fire.
Bullets plinked off of the sheet metal that had been used to armor the fence. Simon tossed a grenade over the fence, which set fire to the nearest garden. Sasha, who had been a firefighter, and who had already rolled out several extended garden hoses to prepare for the possibility, now dropped her gun and ran to fight the flames. Milton, who had agreed to stand by for such a purpose, rushed to her help.
Gareth was shot in the head where he stood firing from the platform, and he tumbled backward and landed with a thud on the earth. An instant later, Martin fell. Bob ran to them both with his emergency medical bag.
In the smoke and haze outside the gates, the driver of the eighteen-wheeler managed to back it up to the moat, a few yards away from where the drawbridge would have fallen if lowered. Two soldiers threw open the back of the truck. Both were shot immediately by Rosita and Abraham from the fence, but another soldier managed to slide a metal ramp out of the truck and down across the moat. From within the truck, a fourth soldier raised an RPG. Andrea fired through one of the portholes in the fence and too him out, but it was a moment too late. The rocket roared diagonally toward the gate, tore a fiery hole through it, and then continued through the town until it landed in a row of town houses and set one ablaze.
Another soldier inside the truck slung a third RPG on his shoulder. It was pointing upwards when he was shot, and he luanched as he died. The rocket flew in the air, over the fence, and onward until it lodged in Woodbury's water tower. The tank cracked, split, and sent thousands of gallons of water pouring into the streets. The water doused only a small portion of the fire, most of which was closer to the gate, and with the water tank now ruptured, it wouldn't be long before the hoses Milton and Sasha were using to fight the fires ran dry.
Meanwhile, the boots of soldiers thundered and clanged over the metal ramp across the moat. As Woodbury soldiers opened fire on them, some toppled and fell into the moat, their cries piercing the night air as they were ripped apart by hungry walkers.
Those that made it off the ramp began charging through the fiery opening in the front gate. On the ground below, Tyreese stepped into view of the charging soldiers and hurled a hand grenade in their direction, exploding several men at once even as he himself was shot. As a few surviving soldiers attempted to flood inside. Morgan slammed one in the face with his staff, whirled, and then slammed another.
The eighteen-wheeler now empty, the driver gunned it and drove it roaring into the woods toward where Rick and his crew were firing. It crashed through and then into trees, and the blare of the horn could be heard for about sixty seconds before it stopped suddenly.
The few Saviors who still lived began to retreat in panic. They were shot as they fled on foot. Simon managed to get in the armored vehicle and drive off in an eastward direction, but Abraham shot out its tires.
He and Rosita scrambled down from the fence as the surviving, unwounded soldiers frantically tried to help Sasha fight he fires. Rosita cranked down the drawbridge, and she and Abraham crossed as Woodbury soldiers began to emerge from the woods. Rick came across the road, carrying Halley in his arms. A bone ruptured through the skin in her leg. "The truck knocked down the tree she was in! Compound fracture! Bob! A little help!"
Tara came out next, with Oscar's arm slung around her shoulders. Rosita ran to him and looked at the blood seeping from his side, which he held with the palm of his hand. "Oh, God," she moaned. "You were shot?"
"They killed Axel," Oscar breathed. "Get Simon. Get that son of a bitch."
Armed and pointing their guns, Abraham and Rosita ran toward the armored vehicle. They flanked both sides of it but didn't see Simon through the tinted windows. "Cover me!" Abraham cried as he shoulder his rifle, and Rosita leveled hers while he reached for the driver's side door.
The rear door where Rosita stood flew open with force, knocking her back and causing her to loose her grip on her rifle. As she scrambled for it, Simon emerged with a handgun, which he aimed at her. Abraham instinctively threw himself at Simon before he could shoot Rosita. They struggled, and the handgun went off into Abraham's chest. Abraham staggered back, swung his rifle off his shoulder, and stabbed the bayonet into Simon's throat. He jerked it out, staggered back again, and collapsed on the ground. Rosita let out a cry of rage and shot Simon in the head twice before throwing herself to the ground beside Abraham and covering his wound with her hands, pressing her bare palms against his chest while the blood seeped through.
"Bob!" she scremead. "Dr. S! Someone! Help!"
Abraham gasped in and out.
"Stay with me, Abe," Rosita pleaded. "Come on, baby. Stay with me now!"
Abraham smiled. And then he rasped out his dying words: "Mission accomplished, darling." The breath went out of him, but the smile remained.