Wars

by themuse123

Alexandria's time is dwindling. Running low on food and ammo, they face destruction at the hands of the Wolves. It seems their only option is to send scouts out for medical supplies and a place to manufacture bullets, to fight until their last breath. Until they discover a community that may be able to turn the tides of the war. [discontinued]

18. Just Movement

A/N: Okay, guys, so we have got our first monster chapter. If you read the original series, you'll know I sometimes have a tendency to write super long chapters. I've been trying my best not to do that with this one, but there was so much that needed to be said in this one that the pacing would have felt off if I shortened it. So I apologize lol The chapter song is "Just Movement" by Robert DeLong, it's another one that sounds upbeat but kind of...isn't, and I felt it fit well here. Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers, y'all are truly the best! Hope you enjoy.

18. Second Interim, pt. 1: Just Movement

Mason swung her fire iron and jumped back, teeth bared in a fearsome snarl. It collided with a tree, mere inches from the stranger's face. He glared back, raising his axe.

Gunshots peppered the air somewhere nearby. Snow ghosted through the gray woods, carried on a bitter wind. She felt Ava crying into the back of her neck, trying to make herself as small as possible in the swaddle of Mason's cloak.

They shouldn't have come through this way. But they were so close to the mountain house, and this looked to be the straightest shot.

Mason opened her mouth to order the man back, but the words died on her tongue.

A taller man appeared through the swirling white, but it wasn't him that had the terror rising in her throat like bile.

It wasn't a tiger. She couldn't accept that the creature prowling at the taller man's side was a tiger.

She must have officially lost it.

But the creature looked solid and alarmingly real. Its eyes targeted her, wide and dark and predatory.

"Get—get back," she said in a trembling voice.

The first man shook his axe at her. "Where the hell is Negan?"

The question caught her off guard. She tried to sound more formidable this time, but the tiger was eyeing her like a happy little brunch time surprise.

"Who the fuck is Negan?"

"Don't play that bullshit with us, dude. You—"

"Jerry, wait."

The taller man held a hand out. Snow caught in his dreadlocks, adding to the silver in them. The tiger twitched when he moved, as though tied to the man by invisible string.

"My lady." Though he was clearly addressing her, it took her a minute to get past the medieval lilt to his voice. "Please lower your weapon."

"Fuck off."

"Hey." Jerry's eyes flashed, but the medieval tiger man held his hand out more firmly this time.

"Your consternation is understandable, but I give you my word no harm will come to you so long as things remain peaceable."

Mason glanced around doubtfully. Though she had yet to see where the gunfire was coming from, clearly nothing was peaceable at the moment.

"Please let us rely on words rather than rash actions," the man continued, and then slowly motioned toward himself. Blood dripped from a wound on his arm. "I am Ezekiel."

"King Ezekiel," Jerry corrected forcefully.

"Jerry."

"King?" Mason repeated quietly. "What is this, some…some sort of fucked up LARPing?"

"No, my lady. The melee around us is quite real." She couldn't doubt the gravity in Ezekiel's eyes. "Thus we are given to suspicion when presented with an unfamiliar hostility. Yet you say you know nothing of Negan."

"Yeah. Because I don't."

Ezekiel nodded. "Could you do me the honor of providing your name, my lady?"

It wasn't quite silent while she deliberated, but the wind dropped briefly, and Ava's wailing finally registered on them. Jerry and Ezekiel straightened in shock. The tiger flicked an ear but otherwise stayed unnervingly still.

Mason reaffirmed her grip on her iron. She couldn't figure how she would survive this but she had to, somehow. Ava clutched her fiercely, soaking her clothes with tears. Running was probably the best option, except that tiger could chase her down like it was nothing. Not to mention, even if she somehow escaped, others were out there somewhere, clearly eager to fill bodies with lead…

"You…carry a little one," Ezekiel said.

She kept quiet. Her leather gloves felt humid with sweat.

Jerry and Ezekiel exchanged a glance before Ezekiel reached for a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She tensed, but he cautioned her with a look.

He pulled something from the bag and held it out. Her legs trembled, preparing to flee, until she saw what it was.

It was a can of peaches. An attempt to be peaceable. Perhaps even a promise to be. Apparently they believed her about not knowing whoever this Negan was, enough to offer her food.

Unless it was a trick. To get her to come closer. Or maybe the peaches were poisoned. Indecision burned in her stomach.

There were good people left, weren't there?

She rolled her weight from one foot to the other. A flurry of semiautomatic artillery had Ava cringing into her shoulder. Ezekiel's blood dripped onto the snow, an hourglass crawl counting down the approaching firefight.

There had to be. There had to be some good people left. Beth existed, after all.

Cat-quick, Mason snatched the can from Ezekiel and skittered back. The tiger rumbled but stood its ground next to him. Briefly, she examined the can. It wasn't homemade, no evidence of tampering or resealing. Still, she'd try it before Ava, just in case.

"Thank you," she growled unwillingly. "We're going now."

Ezekiel merely nodded, eyes flicking west, where the cacophony seemed thickest. "Perhaps that is best. Luck be with you, my lady."

But she hesitated. It had only been a week since leaving Beth. She'd tried not to think of her. But now, heart pounding with adrenaline, she couldn't stop.

Her own instincts told her to run, to get out no matter the cost. But Beth was a good person. A better person. Beth would've tried to help these men, no matter how small the effort.

"Fuck," she hissed and reached into the backpack hanging against her chest. She'd switched positions with it and Ava the moment she'd heard the first pop of gunfire.

Her fingers closed around a small roll of gauze. It was nearly gone, but it was better than nothing.

"Hey!" She tossed the roll at Ezekiel.

He blinked in surprise. "My heartfelt gratitude, but—"

"Yeah, you're welcome. Good luck with your…tiger and stuff."

She turned, and immediately ducked behind a tree, huffing a breath in fear and frustration.

Figures approached from the west, some fleeing, some pursuing. Her chance to run had come and gone. Her best bet now was to hide and pray this king could keep his mouth shut.

She hung her fire iron over her neck from its carrying cord, stowed the peaches in her pack, and with a powerful lunge, grabbed a sturdy branch above her head. She stuck to one side of the trunk as she scaled the tree, until she thought she was high enough the newcomers wouldn't see her.

"Macie," Ava whimpered.

Mason reached a hand over her shoulder, smiling tensely when she felt Ava grab hold with all the considerable strength in her tiny fingers.

"We gotta be quiet now, okay?" she urged.

Ava sniffled. "Hide-and-seek."

"That's right, baby girl."

She straightened her spine to balance herself and returned the iron to her grip. There were hardly any leaves left in the tree, but the branches crisscrossed thickly and her clothes were dark enough to blend in with the trunk. If she stayed still enough, she thought she had a good chance of remaining hidden.

The gunfire petered out as the first of the newcomers made it to Ezekiel and Jerry, three in all, features obscured by the hoods of their coats. Mason expected the fighting to continue below her feet, but instead they all gathered in a tight circle to face their pursuers.

Five more strangers slowed a few yards away. Mason's heart pounded but none of them looked up, too focused on their prey. In the distance, a few more guns sounded, though not as many as before.

Mason thought at first that Ezekiel's group must have the advantage. Their numbers were even people-wise, sure, but Ezekiel had a fucking tiger.

"You're fucked, your Highness," an older blond man sneered.

It became clear then from the way he and his group aimed their guns that they must have more firepower. Ezekiel's group must have used up all or most of their ammo. Her stomach twinged with unexpected anxiety.

She didn't want to see these people slaughtered. Ezekiel had helped her. But what the hell could she do? She couldn't risk Ava.

The tiger growled and the men stopped their advance. The one in front aimed his gun at the creature.

"Shut that fucker up, Zeke. Negan would love a tiger head mounted in his office."

"Shiva." Ezekiel's voice was soft, soothing, but his eyes burned. "Quiet now."

"It was the wrong day to fuck with us, huh? That little hole in the wall you rats were living in? All the shit inside? It's ours now. Whatever the hell we want, it's ours. You best take that to heart."

The blond man prowled closer, though the others stayed put, watching Shiva with trepidation.

"I'm thinking you owe us a little more for the trouble today," he continued. "So who's it gonna be?"

He reached for the closest person in Ezekiel's group, shaking them by the front of their coat. Their hood fell down, revealing their face.

A wave of shock nearly felled her from the tree. She heaved for breath but couldn't quite catch it, which was probably good, seeing as she was trying not to make a sound.

Dray.

It was Dray, it was Dray. Defiance twisted his features but they were his features, it was him.

"Let him go!" another in Ezekiel's group protested. And she recognized that voice, higher with fear but one she'd know anywhere.

"Dave," she whispered. Her head spun. She grabbed a thick branch and hoped she wasn't about to pass out.

"Easy, short stack." The blond man pressed the muzzle of his gun against Dray's chest. "I'll blow his fucking heart out the other side."

Panic quickened the blood in her veins. She had to do something. She had to do something.

Fingers fumbling, she dug the can of peaches from her bag. Then she eased the bag off her chest and slung it over her shoulders so that it covered Ava.

She grunted in protest. "Hebby."

"I know it's heavy," Mason whispered. "But it'll protect you, alright? Now I need you to curl up real tight, make yourself as small as you can. Remember the turtles? Show me your very best turtle impression."

This was Ava's favorite game, make-believing she was an animal. It was probably the only reason she listened to Mason now without a barrage of questions.

"See, you people are lucky. Lucky we want all the shit you have, and all the shit you're going to find," the blond guy said. "We could grease you all right here and be done with it. But. We want. Your shit."

He yanked Dray past him, forceful enough that Dray skidded to hands and knees. The other men surrounded him, kicking him when he tried to rise.

The blond man smiled. "So what's it gonna be? A few material possessions, some worldly crap you can't take with you anyway…or your lives?"

Her heart thundered. Her mind raced, trying to think of some better alternative. But there was none. She had to act, now.

Bracing her feet, she took aim. Then she tossed the can of peaches.

It hit the blond man square on the crown of the head, hard enough that he stumbled to the side. Mason retrieved her Oasis knife. She didn't trust her knife-throwing skills enough to attempt another sniper shot. So she gripped it tightly and jumped instead.

She fell right in the middle of Negan's men, toppling two of them like bowling pins. She resisted the urge to roll with the impact, and so it twisted her left wrist at an awkward angle and knocked the air from her lungs. Someone's elbow jabbed her neck, bringing tears to her eyes. She forced herself to recover quickly.

One man who managed to keep his footing glared down at her.

"What the fuck—"

He cut off with a howl as she ran her iron through his leg, just above his kneecap.

She scrambled back on all fours, plunged her knife into the stomach of a man she'd landed on. He groaned, blood leaking through his teeth.

Dropping the knife, dropping the iron, she seized his gun.

Without rising, she clamped the trigger down and turned in a wide arc, spraying lead into the winter air.

Negan's men fled. She downed one of them, but the blond man and the other one she'd landed on managed to dodge between the trees. The third twisted mid-step to return fire. She ducked behind the shelter of a thick pine, half-blind with terror. Ava screamed into her spine and Mason reached back to ascertain she was unharmed. She didn't feel any blood, no bullet holes in her pack.

She leaned around to take aim again, but the man was gone. An awful screeching sound went up to the west and then faded.

With trembling hands, she shrugged out of the backpack and freed Ava from her sling. She wailed, hands held tightly over her ears, but was otherwise perfectly unharmed. Mason choked on her relief.

She crushed her to her chest. "I'm so sorry, sweetie."

"Ma…Mason?"

She turned, shuddering with a peculiar wave of fear. Dray crouched a few feet away, eyes wide. Beyond him, Dave staggered, coughing out a weak sound of disbelief. The third figure pulled their hood down, shaking their head. Lily.

"Mason," Dray repeated. Tears cut a path down his cheeks.

She couldn't speak. She couldn't find words to return to them, to say hello, I found you, after all this time.

There were no words to say, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

She opened her mouth and a sob squeaked out. Before she could move, Dray scrambled toward her, his arms firm and warm, his whole body shaking. Then Dave and Lily were there, their arms around her like they would never let go, and she couldn't make sense of anything inside her. It wasn't relief and it wasn't fear and it wasn't happiness and it wasn't sorrow. It wasn't any of it, or maybe it was all of it.

Suddenly the warmth was a little too stifling, their arms a little too confining. She wriggled out of their embrace, blinking her blurry eyes.

They stared at her, and she was pretty sure they were still too preoccupied deciding if she was real to be hurt by this. Behind them, Jerry and Ezekiel tried not to gawk while they hurriedly tended his wound.

"Who…who's this?" Dray finally asked.

Mason tensed instinctively, cupping the back of Ava's head. She'd gone quiet, an ingrained reaction when encountering strangers.

When the silence stretched on, understanding dimmed the light in her Misfits' eyes.

A shout made them all jump. Everyone whirled into a defensive position as five silhouettes loped through the trees toward them. Mason ushered Ava back into her sling, climbed to her feet and sprang back, but by then everyone else had relaxed.

Her fingers went limp. She tried to swallow and couldn't.

She recognized four of the five newcomers. It felt like every ounce of courage she possessed drained out through her feet at the sight of them. She shook her hair out to obscure her face, tried to make herself appear small and insignificant.

Charlie. Renee. Dave's father, Scott, slouching the way he always did to soften his tall, imposing figure. Dray's father, Monty, blood glistening in his braids. The fifth man reported straight to Ezekiel, allowing the others a private moment to embrace each other, make sure they were all alright.

None of them had seen her yet. She had a chance. She had a chance to run, just like with Beth.

Except this time, that wasn't an option. She'd come all this way. She'd come all this way for Ava, for her Misfits. She had news to deliver and then after that, after she knew Ava was safe and with family…

"They got away?" Lily asked.

Monty nodded. He looked very tired. "Even with the back tire blown. Lit out of there like a banshee on that rim."

"Yeah, but we got two of them," Charlie said defiantly.

"Four," Jerry said, indicating the two men Mason took out.

"Dave, why are you crying?" Charlie demanded. Her knuckles strained around the handle of her knife, promising violence for the reason behind his tears.

"Um. Guys," Dray began tentatively. "We…have a visitor."

Dave wiped his eyes and pointed, and Mason felt her whole body go taut as piano wire as they all turned to her.

It was silent for an impossible moment. Renee was the first to speak.

"Holy fuck, Mason?"

"It's…it's me," Mason rasped. They were the first words she'd said to them, she realized.

"Oh, fuck, holy shit."

Renee strode forward and collided with Mason in a hug so fierce it nearly knocked her off her feet.

"We thought you were dead." She breathed this into Mason's collarbone. "We thought you were fucking dead. Oh my god. What happened? How the fuck did you find us?"

"I…" She paused to clear her throat. "I knew where you were going, remember?"

Renee laughed a little. Over her shoulder, Mason met Charlie's gaze. There were tears running down her face now, but the rest of her was frozen.

She didn't know how she was going to do this. She couldn't imagine the shape of the words.

"What about the others?" Renee pulled back. There was hope in her eyes. "Naomi? Nick?"

Mason swallowed, moved her lips. Nothing came out.

She stepped back. Her heart fluttered, trying to flee before the rest of her body.

"Are they dead?" Charlie asked. Beneath the tears, her expression was empty.

Say something, you fucking coward. You owe them an explanation. You owe them words.

Mason nodded, flinching when Dave let out a sob. "We got cornered in my old house. That herd…chased us inside. Broke down the door."

"But you got away." Charlie's voice cut her to bone.

"I—I managed to make a hole in the crowd, distracted the walkers with my blood. But Na…Naomi…wanted me to go first."

She undid Ava's sling and held her to her chest. Something moved behind Charlie's eyes but as always it was hard to read.

"She wanted me to get Ava out. She was too weak to walk, let alone carry her, and I'm…I'm the fastest."

In that moment, she wished she wasn't. She wished she wasn't fast, she wished she wasn't so good at running.

"Well," Charlie finally said, and her voice was as hard and desolate as midwinter, "at least you saved someone."

She turned and walked away without a second glance at Ava or Mason. Dray hurried after her. After a beat, the other Misfits followed, Lily with her arm around Dave's shoulder.

A ringing filled Mason's ears. She wanted to chase after them. She wanted to be there in their arms again, but instead she stood very still and waited to dissolve into the ground.

Come back. I came back for you. Come back for me.

"Hey."

Monty approached her with a kind, sad smile, and all the emotion whirling her into numbness toppled her at the sight of his familiar face. She fell into his embrace without a sound.

The first one to figure out Mason was homeless, the first to offer her an actual room in an actual house, the first to offer to help with getting her GED. More a father to her than her real father could've hoped to be, if he'd ever hoped for that.

She didn't deserve to, but she felt safe in his arms.

"You finally grew that beard," she murmured into his chest.

His laughter rumbled against her cheek. "I wanted to look the part, you know? Apocalyptic mountain man."

Scott waited for her next, scooping her into a gentle, engulfing hug with his patented "I'm so glad to see you, dearie", except this time it was "I'm so glad you're safe, dearie".

It wasn't just her Misfits she'd missed. Scott and Monty. Scott's wife, Kelsey, with her fiery demeanor and eagerness to have fun. Monty's wife, Elisha, who painted Mason's nails and riffed on bad movies with Dray and was always a little overprotective.

She wanted to see them.

"Everyone else," she said. "Are they okay?"

Monty's expression crumpled. Something cold ran through Mason's chest.

Scott touched her arm and whispered, "We lost Elisha to a herd on our way here."

No.

Not anyone else. She didn't want to be without anyone else.

A cry built in Mason's chest, but she stifled it. She reached for Monty's hand. Guilt rattled in her chest at the desolation in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

He ran his free hand down his face. Blinking back tears, he simply shook his head and said, "We should get you two somewhere you can rest up a bit."

Ezekiel and Jerry led them through the woods. Mason wondered where they were going. She was so tired. She couldn't imagine ever resting long enough to actually feel okay again.

Up ahead, too far to try to catch up to, the Misfits walked in a tight formation. Mason couldn't bear looking at them for too long. She found her eyes drawn to Shiva's impossible frame. A shiver of dread rolled down her spine at the muscles shifting beneath her pelt.

How the hell did Ezekiel have a tiger? How had her people met him in the first place? She wasn't sure she wanted to, unwilling to dredge up further unpleasant memories, but eventually she had to ask, "Can you tell me…what else happened?"

~m~

They made it to Virginia a year ahead of Mason, apparently. They lost Elisha along the way, and a handful of others Mason hadn't known quite as well. They also picked up new people along the way—Richard, the stranger fighting alongside them today, a scrappy old lady named Harriet, a doctor by the name of Ellis.

"Ezekiel and Jerry were the first people we met in Virginia," Monty said. "A few of us were out scouting during a storm, looking for better shelter than huddling in the woods. Decomps cut us off, nearly took us out. But then all we hear is this shout, and a roar that damn near shatters our eardrums. Shiva leaps out of nowhere, batting the dead away like they're nothing, and Ezekiel follows. Saved our lives and led us to a gutted gas station to shelter for the night."

"And why do you call him king? I mean, did he always…talk like that?"

"Yeah, he did. But it wasn't just that. And it wasn't just the tiger, or the tales his group—little at the time, maybe only ten of them—told us. About how he wrestled a dozen decomps off her and gained her trust. Or how they were hunting the same deer, side by side through the forest, and his skill earned her respect enough that she decided to team up with him. I don't think anyone knows the real story, but it wasn't the stories anyway.

"I remember seeing him illuminated that night by a lightning flash. As soaked as all of us and somehow looking all the more alive for it. He was holding his sword up, and I remember thinking he was about to get his ass charred by that lightning, but he never seemed afraid. Fear didn't touch him, and he drove those decomps back, rallying us as he did. That night convinced me he was someone worth following, and he hasn't proven me wrong."

Ezekiel's band of survivors were nomadic by necessity. They hadn't found a safe enough place to settle down yet, so the Misfits and their families offered refuge in the mountain house.

Renee's uncle, Jerry, wasn't there. From the frantic notes scribbled in a journal, they surmised he'd gone a little stir crazy in the solitude and ventured outside to search for survivors. He'd been gone six months. They kept an eye out for him but he never returned.

It was a tight squeeze, though the house was expansive, stretching deep into the side of the mountain. Wealthy doomsday prepper that he was, Jerry had stores upon stores of supplies, enough to last quite a while even with their numbers. Still, they rationed everything.

"We had enough to last us another year, easily, before we'd have to start thinking of reaching out for serious acquisition." Monty's expression darkened. "But three months after taking that inventory, and it's all gone. So is the mountain house."

Mason blinked. "What?"

"Negan's men, the Saviors. We'd had a few run-ins with them by then, and we knew they were a threat, but we didn't know how much. They came up to the house one night, with guns and firebombs, more of them than we'd ever seen before. Threatened to light the whole thing up unless we walked out and let them take it."

Mason's blood heated, itching in her arms and legs, itching for violence. It scared her that she'd never met these men before, at least aside from the few today, and already she wanted them dead.

"Some of us wanted to fight back. Ezekiel kept us calm, assured us that if we played the game now, we could live to fight another day. So we walked out."

Monty fell silent a moment. The ridge of his shoulders tensed.

"We got a few yards away from the house before they fired on us. Not all of us. Just those at the very back. We couldn't stay and fight, we had barely any weaponry on us. So we had to run. We had to leave our people behind."

It felt as though an arrow ran through her heart.

In her head there was only Gina's face, looking out that window, and something crashing in the bedroom before she disappeared forever. And running, through the dead, the desert, the mountains, the forests. A scenic slideshow of avoidance.

"We lost ten people that day," Scott said. "We lost our home. No food, barely any weapons… We weren't sure we were going to make it."

But they did. Miles out from the mountains, they came across a community. A community with a gate, with walls. Only five people inhabited it, but the inside was enormous, and the people more than willing to let in a large group.

They had a garden, and supplies, and livestock they were trying to breed. Two of the women were farmers and knew all the tips and tricks to sustainable living. It seemed a paradise after all they'd gone through.

"We knew it was a matter of time before Negan's men found us," Monty said. "And they did. Hunted us up just a week after finding the place."

"The fuck else do they want?" Mason growled, although she supposed it was a dumb question. People these days wanted whatever the hell they could get their hands on.

"To own us," Monty said, a dangerous current running through his voice. "So that we can garden and gather and risk our asses for them. That's why they didn't kill us right there in the mountain house. It probably would've been easier for them if they did. But they want half our shit, every month, in perpetuity."

A flood of exhaustion shook her knees. It wasn't just the sleepless nights. It wasn't just how far she'd had to travel to get here, how long it took.

It was bleeding in her old bedroom, jumping out that window, running, unrelenting desert sunlight, the Oasis, Coyote and her cult, shuddering with snake venom, winters and summers and watching Ava grow, long nights sitting up to keep watch, people glimpsed at a distance, walkers up close and personal, Georgia, sleet cutting a path down her skin, that worn-down bus, the bitter smell of kudzu burning, infection scorching her brain, Beth's fingers in her hair, dreams of starlight and reuniting with someone she could never see clearly, Beth's lips and the sound of her voice and the way it felt to tell her "yes" and then "no", never telling her goodbye, and crying over her, and missing her, and running, running, always fucking running, on and on and on…

It wasn't the kind of exhaustion that could be slept off. And now she was here, and she'd found Ava's family, her own family once upon a time, but they weren't safe, and so Ava wasn't safe, and she couldn't leave them to fend off these people without her help.

Maybe the Misfits would hate her after what happened, who she'd lost. Maybe there was too much of a gap, between what she'd suffered alone and what they'd suffered together. Maybe there wasn't forgiveness. Maybe there wasn't healing to be had.

But she still loved them. She still loved them so, so dearly.

"I'm gonna help you fight them," she said quietly. And her heart quaked at the thought, but she felt that primal, brittle part of herself stir, and she knew she could do it.

Maybe it would be the last thing she would ever do.

She hoped it would be.

She was so tired.

~m~

Despite having it described to her, the community still took Mason's breath away.

They hadn't been exaggerating about the size, or the beauty. The buildings were old. The trees and gardens were snow-washed, but abundant. The people emerged from houses in coats and boots and mittens, and for the briefest second, it looked like some clichéd Christmas card.

She hung back while the others conveyed their failed ambush. She spotted Charlie heading away from everyone else, Dave and Dray beside her, and that's when she stopped trying to pick anyone out of the crowd. It was inevitable, though, that they would see her.

She heard her name exclaimed, though it sounded muffled, fighting through all the thoughts warring for space in her brain.

And she couldn't help looking up, couldn't help the catch in her throat when her eyes fell on Tanner, looking just as muscular as she remembered, and Ashlee, blonde hair dye-less for once.

Tanner scooped her into his arms and nearly squeezed the life out of her. Ashlee cried without a word; she was never particularly verbose where emotions were involved, preferring to convey them through sweetness and writing and handholding.

They were so much like how she remembered, it was difficult to reconcile the chasm between the last time she'd seen them and now.

But she felt it. It pulsed open like a new wound when they laid eyes on Ava, when that realization broke over them, when Renee quietly retold what Mason had told them because Mason couldn't, not again.

Then Kelsey was there, kissing her cheeks, and Mason was surprised to see tears in her eyes. Dave hadn't inherited his readiness to cry from his mother.

"Look at you," she said, as though this were nothing more than a family reunion. She supposed it was, in a way.

"Out of the way," an imperious voice rasped, and Mason felt the oddest urge to laugh at the old woman fighting through the crowd. "Let me see my darling with my own eyes."

Kelsey stepped aside to let Lily's aunt, Rita, through.

"Right-hook Rita", the Misfits always called her. She was sixty-eight and barely cleared five feet, but muscles still lurked beneath her wrinkles. A boxer for twenty years, fighting the ban prohibiting women from the sport every step of the way, she'd never lost her ferocity or willingness to kick ass. She was the one who'd taught Mason the basics of boxing and Krav Maga, among many other things.

She grabbed Mason's hands in her firm, weathered grip. Her brown eyes pierced her. Rita always had a way of making one feel seen with just a glance.

Mason fidgeted. She wasn't sure she wanted to be seen now.

"You made it," Rita said, as if she'd always thought Mason would.

"I did."

"My darling, you've come to fill the hole you left."

She didn't know how to answer that. Ava fidgeted in her sling, whining a little.

"I—I should probably get her settled somewhere. She needs to sleep."

"You both do," Monty said.

"The bedroom in the place we're staying," Renee offered. "None of us are using it. We all sleep in the living room together."

Mason almost smiled, but it froze before it could reach the surface. She nodded. "Thanks."

Ezekiel held a hand out. "Forgive me, my lady. I know well your travails have wearied you, and I am more than pleased that it is my kingdom that will lend you reprieve, but first, if I may…" He bowed at the waist. "My deepest gratitude for your aid this day. Your courage and kindness stand out in a world of monsters and thieves."

She tried not to flinch. "It's—it's okay."

"Please know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you like."

Renee led her to the house, an old brick building converted at some point into a multifamily. A one-bedroom on the bottom floor, completely separate from the two-bedroom on the top.

"Monty and Rita live upstairs," Renee explained as they stepped inside. Her voice was distant, subdued. "I'll…get you guys some blankets and stuff. Are you…hungry?"

Mason shook her head. The house entered right into the kitchen, and though it smelled warmly of flour and brown sugar, she couldn't stomach the thought of eating.

Renee strode through the living room and Mason followed a few steps behind. There was a low fire crackling in the fireplace. The Misfits sat huddled on the floor by the couch, Dave and Charlie at their center. They all looked up as Mason passed but no one said anything.

The bedroom was small and cooler than the rest of the house, but Mason didn't care. After so long spent out in the elements, this was a vacation at the Four Seasons.

Renee leaned against the doorframe as Mason got Ava settled in the bed. "I guess, let us know if you need anything."

"Okay. Thanks."

When the door closed, Mason sagged on the bed. Ava clamored clumsily over the blankets and tugged at her arm.

"Sleep!"

Mason laughed humorlessly, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I probably should, huh?"

Ava just glared at her and held her arms open, demanding cuddles. So they nestled into a ball the way they always did on the road, Mason curling herself protectively around Ava. She tried to tell herself it wasn't necessary here. They were warm and safe.

But the chill leaked in. And they weren't safe, not really.

Ava fell asleep quickly, but an hour later and Mason was still stuck staring at the wall.

Nothing was how it should've been. And she realized that some small, infuriating part of her had been clinging to the absurd hope that things would be okay, that they'd be better once she found her Misfits, that she would be better. Just miraculously, snap-of-the-fingers better. But that wasn't how it worked.

She huffed in frustration. She just wanted her brain to shut up, for five fucking seconds.

Carefully she got out of bed and riffled through her pack, found her iPod and headphones, slipped them on. She laid back down, running a soothing hand through Ava's hair when she grumbled in her sleep.

It was the one thing that hadn't changed, this one constant she could come home to no matter what. Her music filled her like water, soothing her fire, like air, cherishing her lungs. She breathed in and out, let it swell in her, let it close her eyes.

Under her breath, she sang herself to sleep.

~m~

In the dream, she knew it was Tanner and Ashlee's basement, though the layout was strange, changing each time she looked away and back again. The Misfits were all there, and Nick and Will, too. Everyone was laughing.

Charlie leaned her head on Dray's shoulder. Ashlee tripped Tanner on his way to get a drink. Renee hoisted a glass of wine over her head and declared herself queen of the basement. Lily offered Mason a joint, and she took a hit and felt herself floating.

Everything was okay. It was exactly like how things had been back in L.A. If she didn't wake up, she could stay here forever.

"You wanna take the left, I'll take the right?"

Mason looked up.

Naomi came down the stairs. Her face expressionless. One side eaten away, one eye gray with decay. Her mouth moved, and Beth's voice came out.

"Okay. See you in a bit."

A chill crept over Mason. It was the last exchange she'd shared with Beth. But there was no inflection to the voice. It was empty. Dead.

She looked around to ask if anyone else was seeing this. The laughter had died down. Everyone regarded each other raggedly, fearfully, but no one seemed to see Naomi.

Dave was making out with Will on the couch, but there was now a large chunk ripped from Will's face. His skin was haggard, slimy. He smeared stagnant blood on Dave's lips.

Nick grabbed her arm, lips rotted back to reveal moldy, yellow teeth. "Breathe," he told her. "Breathe through it."

She leaned back, hyperventilating. The room swirled away and she jolted awake.

The second her eyes opened, she clutched at her chest, teeth gritted. A sharp pain pulsed in rhythm with her heart. She tried to breathe around it but her limbs shook; there was no strength in them, no strength in her whole body.

"Macie!" Ava patted her face, eyes wide.

She didn't want Ava to see her like this. She struggled to get a handle on it.

"It's…it's okay," she panted. "I just had a bad dream, that's all. Sometimes us grown-ups get them, too, but it's all good." The room spun. She closed her eyes. "Are you hungry, baby girl?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, um…just give me a sec, okay, and then we'll get you some breakfast?"

Her voice was high and fragile, close to breaking. Ava pouted, but went to play with some of her toys.

Mason huddled in the middle of the bed until the shaking subsided. Judging from the light coming in through the window, it was well past morning. She heard no sounds from the rest of the house, but she still waited a few minutes before stepping out of the room.

No one else was there. She couldn't decide if she was relieved or not. She fixed Ava a breakfast of oatmeal and bacon, both of them marveling at the fridge and pantry—there was so much food. At least, much, much more than they were used to. Ava made a game of pointing to everything in the cabinets and declaring, "Mine."

Jerry waited outside. He held a small wicker basket out to her. There was a little red bow on top, and an assortment of jars and paper sacks inside.

"Hey, dude," he said. "Sorry about being kind of a butthole yesterday."

"Oh." She blinked. "That's okay. You thought I was one of them. I'm sorry for swinging my iron at you."

"It's all good." He smiled cheerfully.

Ava peered curiously at the basket, unable to help herself. "Presents?"

"That's right, little lady. Here!" Jerry placed the basket in Mason's hands. "There's not a whole lot to spare right now, but I got you some preserves—the pomegranate's the best by far. And look, see, we candied these fruits ourselves. Pretty sweet, right?" He winked exaggeratedly.

After a beat, a laugh bubbled out of her. Short, startled, but a laugh all the same. Jerry's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, it is. Thank you. You're a…" She reached into the basket and held up a jar of golden jam. "Peach?"

"That's actually nectarine, but totally respect the effort."

"Hey, um…do you know where the Mis—I mean, where my friends might be?" she asked tentatively.

"Not sure where all of them are, but I know Tanner, Renee and Lily are talking with Ezekiel. They're in the courtyard right now; I can take you there if you want. Also, Harriet wanted me to let you know that she's more than happy to watch Ava if you need her to. She watches the kids while everyone's off…you know."

"O—okay. Thanks." She wasn't sure she trusted anyone to keep an eye on Ava. But for the first time, she realized she would have to put that trust in someone. She couldn't fight the Saviors with a toddler strapped to her back.

Mason set the gift basket inside and followed Jerry to a courtyard framed by file cabinets and pallets. The drawers were filled with soil, the pallet slats lined with pots and planters and buckets. There weren't any plants growing there now, but she couldn't imagine such ingenuity would come up tails come spring.

Ezekiel opened his arms when he saw her. "Ah, Lady Mason. It pleases me that you would join us."

Tanner, Renee and Lily glanced at her, looking uncertain and uncomfortable.

Yeah, join the club, guys.

Monty, Kelsey, and Richard were there, as well as two women she didn't recognize and a man and woman she did.

Tanner and Ashlee's parents, Everett and Deb. Mason couldn't say she was particularly happy to see them. She still clearly remembered hiding out in the basement with Tanner and Ashlee while their parents screamed at each other. Sometimes things got broken. Sometimes one of them would leave and be gone for days, then return like it never happened.

They'd never been fond of Mason, either. Resented the times she spent the night, taking up their space and eating their food. Resented that she distracted Tanner and Ashlee from the fighting, encouraged them to leave the house when things got bad so that their parents couldn't use them as weapons against each other.

They regarded each other coolly across the courtyard.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" she asked.

"No, in fact, you may be able to add some insight into our current plight," Ezekiel answered.

"Are you sure you've rested enough, though?" Monty asked, eyes soft with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." No need to admit that her feeling truly rested was a pipe dream at this point. "Whatever I can help with, I'm here."

The meeting was unsurprisingly about the Saviors, specifically when they might launch the next attack on them. They had plenty of guns, though their stores of ammo were running low. They'd need to make a run before they did anything, not to mention food. It wasn't perilous yet, but as winter was still going strong, it would be if left unchecked.

The real issue, however, was that they held no legitimate edge over the Saviors. Negan's men knew where they lived, how many people they had, an approximation of their supplies.

"I suspect they have not razed us to ash simply on the principle of keeping us alive, the same way the wolf does not extinguish the herd but rather one unfortunate stag," Ezekiel explained.

"That's been their MO from the beginning," one of the women spoke up. She was tall and muscular, with deeply tanned skin and honey blonde hair. Mason had a feeling she was one of the farmers Monty had mentioned yesterday.

"So that's our advantage," Mason observed. "If they're not willing to kill us off the bat."

"Yeah, except they're confident they can keep us alive," Everett replied. "Which means they're also confident they could swoop in and kill us whenever they damn well feel like it."

"He's right," Richard said, though Mason could tell from his expression he hated to admit it. "They hold all the power. They could starve us in these walls if they wanted to. Be pretty easy to do over winter."

A chill gripped Mason's throat. If they had enough people, it would be easy to do.

"Well, then we'll need to prepare for that, won't we?" Renee said. "We're right back to square one. Supply runs first, then we worry about whether or not we can attack."

Ava played idly with Mason's hair through the meeting, watching errant flakes of snow drift through the air. She seemed content in this place, aside from her wariness of strangers, which Mason couldn't blame her for one bit.

The meeting concluded with Ezekiel choosing people for the supply runs. Mason volunteered, but he insisted she get her footing first.

She drifted over to Tanner, Lily and Renee as the others dispersed. They smiled at her, but the sorrow behind their eyes felt like a veil put up between them.

"So…" She drew the toe of her boot through a patch of icy mud. "I leave you guys alone for two minutes and you go and make friends with the most theatrical dude this side of Hamlet? That's on brand."

"Literally theater kids," Lily replied, indicating the three of them. "What did you expect?"

"Lily, you were the only one in theater," Renee said.

"Yeah, don't rope me into your geeky shit," Tanner said.

"Yes, but you're friends with me, therefore theater kids by default. That's the law of nature, I don't make the rules." She looked at Ava and spread her arms in exasperation. "I mean, do you hear these jokers? They're pretty silly aren't they?"

Ava eyed her hesitantly. Mason bounced her in her arms, a trick she'd learned comforted her when she felt a little anxious.

"You know why?" Lily continued. "It's cuz they've got big old poo-poo brains."

Ava smiled, hiding a little in Mason's hair.

"You ever met someone with a poo-poo brain?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, shoot, well don't leave me hanging. Dish, girl! Wait, don't tell me." Lily leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "It's Mason, isn't it?"

Ava giggled. "Yeah."

Mason rolled her eyes. "Oh, gee, thanks, kid."

"Hey, she's just calling it how she sees it. I like that. She's a straight shooter." Lily held her hands out to Ava. "I bet you also like to color, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, hey, do you wanna color with me? We can get a break from all these smelly poopy heads."

Ava glanced up at Mason, who nodded encouragingly. Better that she start getting used to other people sooner than later.

"Okay," Ava said shyly and let Lily hoist her onto her shoulders.

"Color me something really cool, okay, baby girl?" Mason called after them, trying to stifle the pang of anxiety. She couldn't stand guard over her twenty-four seven.

The anxiety shifted shape when she realized she was alone with Tanner and Renee. She fidgeted before deciding to just jump into it.

"Look, do…do you think I could talk to Charlie and Dave?"

Renee and Tanner shared a glance.

"I don't…think you should right now, Mason," Renee said.

Mason worried the inside of her lip. "Do they blame me?" she asked, so quietly it could barely be heard.

"They know it wasn't your fault. They know that." Renee said this stubbornly. "They just need a little time, that's all."

"You gotta understand, Princess—we thought you were dead," Tanner said. "We, like, adjusted ourselves around that, you know? We had to get used to it. So seeing you… And then realizing we were right all along about Nomes and Will and… It's like whiplash, man."

Mason nodded, blinking and biting her lip until she tasted blood. Her eyes pricked with infuriating tears; no matter how hard she tried, they wouldn't go away.

"Yeah, no, I totally get that," she said, and she did. She truly did. "Um, would you just…let me know if they want to talk?"

"Of course," Renee said, and reached out to touch Mason's arm.

Mason twitched away. She didn't want anyone touching her. She fucked up everything she touched.

"I'm, uh, I'm gonna…I'll—I'll be back."

"Mason, you don't have to—"

She hurried away, just as the tears began to fall.

Two men stood watch at the gate. She didn't know their names yet. They looked concerned when she asked to leave, but didn't protest much when she insisted she just wanted to have a look around, keep an eye out for any Saviors.

"Stay close," one of them said. She barely heard him. Her head was ringing.

She avoided the road. The forest took her in, bare branches webbing the white winter sky. It looked like fractured glass. She wondered if she cut herself open, would she look like that.

She didn't know where she was going. She stumbled aimlessly, searching for the correct path, the one that would take her away from the pain. For the first time in months, she ached for a drink. She hadn't had one in over two years, couldn't risk it on the road with Ava, but now…

The walkers took her by surprise. She turned a corner and there they were, twenty or so glistening in the icy haze.

She huffed in a breath and drew her fire iron, leaping immediately into action. There was no fear in her, at least not of the walkers. Without Ava to protect, something broke loose in her limbs and she was primal, desert-bitten, teeth and muscle and pounding heart.

The walkers closed in, crackling with frost, eyes frozen. Their blood spattered her, thick and slimy.

(breathe breathe through it)

(see you in a bit)

Suddenly, they were lying on the ground. She couldn't remember getting from point A to point B. She lowered her iron, blinking blood from her lashes.

Pain welled in her chest. It wasn't the same as waking up before. It felt permanent, like it would wash through and change essential parts of her, like it already had.

She wanted to go to her Misfits. She wanted to comfort Charlie and Dave with the rest of them. She wished they'd never separated. She wished she'd never asked to go to Kansas, to find the mother who'd never tried to find her. She wanted to look her family in the eye and feel like she'd finally come home.

Stop.

And she wanted Beth. She wanted to curl up in the comfort of her arms and cry and have someone tell her it was okay, she could break and it would still be okay.

Stop.

This isn't useful.

She straightened; she hadn't realized she'd doubled over, bracing herself on her knees.

What purpose did this pain serve? It was self-pity. It was pointless.

She had a job to do. Ava wasn't safe, her family wasn't safe, and so her journey wasn't over yet. She wasn't going to help anyone crying and feeling sorry for herself.

(you're not okay)

Okay. She was okay.

(you're not)

She breathed deeply, trying to feel her lungs again. There they were. She wasn't breaking at the seams. All her pieces were still in place. She was okay.

But the pain remained. She touched her chest.

How could she make this pain useful? How could she turn it into a weapon for her people? That was the only option, she was out of all other options, because the pain wasn't going away and neither was she. Not yet.

Her eyes touched on the bodies around her, their once-life now-death staining the snow.

In her head, she heard Beth telling her about how her people disguised themselves in walker blood, using the dead to their advantage. But blood wasn't the only thing the dead could offer.

Jackass. You should rest.

Mason closed her eyes.

Okay. Thank you for your help, she thought at the voice. But I have to say goodbye now.

Very carefully, she sealed Beth away in her heart. She could not think of her now, not anymore, not when she'd been drafted for war. Nothing mattered unless it was useful for dragging her family out of this. And she would. Somehow, she would. It was the least she could fucking do.

She hauled the bodies into a pile. She'd have to be careful with how she dispatched them from now on. No waste.

Her tears dried while she covered herself in blood.

~m~

She washed herself down with snow before she returned. There were different guards at the gate, talking with Monty, Renee and Ezekiel.

Renee threw her arms out. "Where the hell were you? You've been gone for hours."

"Patrolling," Mason answered. "If you're sending people out, there needs to be someone keeping an eye out for any sign of attack."

"Lady Mason, we have lookouts vested for that purpose," Ezekiel said.

"That's great, but this could give us advance warning. If you don't want to spare people, I'm more than happy to do it myself."

Monty's eyes narrowed. Mason kept her expression still as a frozen pond.

"It is not a lack of people, but the peril it may place them in. Should anyone fall into such peril, we would have no way of knowing."

"Well, I don't think I officially joined your group, so…I'm not really your people. Officially," Mason pointed out. "Anyway, I can make a run at some point, look for some walkie talkies or something."

"Whether you consider yourself a part of my company or otherwise, you are still here and have elected to champion us, which places you under my care," Ezekiel said sternly.

"You have to let me help out. Otherwise, what am I doing here?"

Renee looked at her sharply. Mason ignored her.

"Look, I have to do everything I can to make sure Ava's safe," she insisted, a little bit of life leaking back into her voice. "I can't have brought her here for nothing. I have to make sure she has a chance at something."

Ezekiel's expression softened and he sighed. "Yes. Now more than ever, we must pave a new road of prosperity and hope for our youth. But if I am to allow you to do this, we will take every precaution into account. We will acquire a reliable means of communication before all else."

"Walkies are on the list," Monty said. "We've never needed them before, because we've never really needed to separate. But the recon groups are out looking for some as we speak."

Mason nodded. "We'll hope for some good news then."

She escaped to the house before anyone could ask her anything else.

Lily, Tanner and Dave were there with Ava, eating dinner in the living room. Ava hopped up as soon as she saw Mason and ran over to hug her leg and show her the picture she drew. Mason told her it was very pretty in the brightest voice she could manage and asked if she had a good day. She listened while Ava and Lily explained that they'd colored for a while and met Harriet and some of the other kids, before playing tag with Tanner and Dave.

"Wow, that sounds like an awesome day!" Mason enthused.

Ava bounced up and down in agreement, eyes sparkling. Mason's heart swelled with a strange mix of joy and sadness.

She hung out in the kitchen, listening to the others laugh. Dave seemed a little better, though she hadn't quite managed to look him in the eye. She ate a dinner of dried rabbit and pomegranate jam and silently catalogued the events of her own day.

After painting herself in blood, she'd gone around the community in ever-widening circles, keeping a lookout not just for Saviors but for the dead. She'd caught a few walkers, but nothing like her run-in earlier. That was okay. She had some ideas for luring more.

She hadn't seen any Saviors. She wondered how long this wanting-to-keep-them-alive-for-their-service thing would last. Not forever, that was sure. If Ezekiel's group put up enough of a fight, eventually they would be forced to take them out. Try, at least.

The real problem was that no one seemed to know just how many men Negan had, or even where they lived. Apparently, they had several different outposts but none of them seemed to be the main populace.

So she'd have to add recon to her rotation. Her eyes narrowed. She'd be gone a lot. Guilt needled her, but she didn't have much of a choice. Besides, Ava needed to get used to these people. They were her family now.

She sat her down that night once Ava was ready for bed.

"I'm gonna be really busy for a little while, because these people need my help," she explained. "But you'll get to have lots of fun while I'm gone! You'll get to color with your new friends and play games, and I hear Harriet has story time a lot. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"But you come back always dough, right, Macie?"

Mason swallowed. "That's right, baby girl. Always."

She'd never been the best liar. But Ava didn't notice the difference.

~m~

Days blurred, just like they did on the road.

Waking before dawn, an hour working out in the big brick gymnasium, taking over watch at the gate for a four hour shift, checking in on Ava, running laps around the neighborhood, keeping watch for another four hours. When sleep resisted, she wore herself out at the gym until she felt she could close her eyes for a while. She paid close attention to the schedules of others, so she could stay away from them. It was better if…if they didn't get used to her being around.

When a scouting group came back with walkie talkies, she added patrols to the cycle. She kept an eye out for the Saviors, of course, but that wasn't all she used this time for.

The walkers came when she sang for them, sometimes in a group and sometimes individually. She learned quickly that as long as she was covered in dead blood, they merely surrounded her, intrigued by the sound but deterred by the scent. They followed her anywhere, like grotesque ducklings.

She stored a good portion of them in a house about a mile off the highway, but those that she didn't, she tied to trees, a circle of the dead with her at the center. Then she wrapped her hands and used them for boxing practice. Each time, she lengthened the slack on their bindings a little more, wore a little less protective clothing. They never got her, but sometimes…it was close.

She didn't tell anyone about these convocations with the dead. She was afraid they might see something in her she didn't want them to see.

Through it all, there was a part of her that felt it happening. It had only happened to this severity once before, and that…she remembered where that had led. She still couldn't take pills, couldn't stomach cold medicine, anything that made her drowsy.

But she couldn't stop it, didn't even know where to begin. Everything felt wildly out of her grasp. She was a cog, trying to turn while the rest of the machine collapsed around her. She just had to keep moving. She couldn't stay still too long. Everything would be alright so long as she kept moving…

The cold pressed in while she rotated in this cycle. The Virginia natives in Ezekiel's group fretted about it, muttered that this winter was shaping up to be harsher than they'd had in a while. Everyone wondered if this was why they'd seen nothing of the Saviors since the ambush. Mason thought it would at least keep them from trying to starve them out. She couldn't imagine they'd try something like that in such bitter cold.

Two weeks into this rhythm, Monty sought Mason out on the front watch post. It was around four in the morning and snowing heavily, which made Mason anxious. Between the weather and the dark, anyone could sneak up and they wouldn't see until the last minute. Maybe she should trade shifts with someone, head out there…

Monty held a Styrofoam cup out to her. "Thought you could use something warm. Didn't want you to turn into an icicle out here."

Absently, she took it. "Maybe we would build some watch posts out in the woods. I know some good places. We could do it in an X pattern, from each direction out from the community. Maybe we could—"

"Hey." Monty elbowed her. "You're welcome."

Mason blinked, then looked down at the cup in her hand. It was hot chocolate, she realized, mini marshmallows and everything. Her throat tightened.

"Shit. Sorry. I was just… Thank you."

He smiled a little and sipped from his own cup. They were silent for a while, peering through the thick flakes to the darkness beyond.

"Dray says they haven't seen much of you," Monty finally said.

Mason said nothing. The hot chocolate was good for being the generic powdered stuff…

"I'm wondering why that is," he continued.

She chewed pensively on a marshmallow.

"Back in L.A., no one could separate the eight of you for anything."

"What do you want me to say, Monty?" she snapped. "We're not in L.A., we're right here, and here fucking sucks." It was more honest than she wished to be. She filled her mouth with hot chocolate.

"Yeah, you're not wrong there," he agreed, with that same infuriating calm he'd passed on to his son. "More reason than ever to enjoy the good things, though. You know they're thrilled to have you back, right?"

"I…I'm not sure that's even why I'm…" She drummed her fingers along the cup. "Charlie and Dave aren't…ready to have me around yet. And the thing is, I understand that. They have every right to be upset, to be angry, all that, and I don't mean just at me, I mean at everything. They lost people they loved so much, and that is my fault. I'm the one who wanted to stop in Kansas, look for my mom, and Will and Naomi were the collateral damage. I'm not upset that they're upset."

Monty cocked his head, not saying anything. Waiting for her to continue at her own pace.

"I'm upset because…I can't fix it." Her eyes stung. "There's this gap, you know? Because before this, we always went through the bad shit together. But we were apart for so long, and now I don't even know what to say to them. I'm upset because I came here expecting to know the right things to say, expecting to know how to comfort them, and now I can't even look them in the fucking eye. I'm upset because I thought things would just magically get better, except things are never getting better. Things are never, ever going back to the way they were, and I don't know how to live with that anymore. I'm at the end of my journey and I don't know where else to go."

She stopped before she said anymore. She was getting dangerously close to confessing that other truth, what seemed right now to be the very core of her.

"Hey," Monty said, gripping her shoulder. "This isn't everything there's ever gonna be. If we thought that, none of us would be fighting back so hard. You don't always need to know what to say, or what to do, or who to be. You're here, and I'll tell you right now, that is fucking everything."

She didn't know if she agreed with him, if he was right or wrong, but she leaned in to hug him anyway.

"We'll figure all the rest out," he promised, rubbing her back.

She nodded. "Okay."

A gunshot cracked the silence. Something shot past her, cutting through the hair at the nape of her neck.

Instinct had her ducking down, slamming Monty onto the platform below her. Hot chocolate spilled down her arm, burst against her chest. Gunfire peppered the night, then stopped.

"Shit," she hissed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, did they get you?" Monty gripped her arms, felt the back of her neck.

"No, just—just missed me." Her skin still buzzed. Pinpricks of adrenaline radiated down to her toes. Keeping low, she retrieved her gun and peeked over the wall.

"I can't see anyone."

Behind them, the few lights on in the buildings went out at once.

A low, two-toned whistle sounded from the trees. Another answered it, and another and another. She and Monty straightened and aimed their guns as a man stepped onto the road, but neither of them took the shot. Two other men emerged, then five, then ten, all of them armed with guns of their own. There was no question who they were.

Mason glanced across the way at the other watch post and met Richard's grim gaze.

"Hello!" the first man yelled, waving pleasantly. He was tall and thin, with a handlebar mustache and a snake smile. "Sure is cold out here. Why don't you open that gate? Let us warm up a bit, like good neighbors?"

"Yeah, buddy, we're not going to be doing that," Monty answered.

"Shame. We'd really like to do this amicably."

Mason's lip curled. "I forgot the part where you murdering our people is amicable."

"That's just procedure, little missy. It ain't nothing personal, it's just to demonstrate where you stand with us." He shrugged. "I suppose maybe it's a little bit our fault. Sometimes we can come on a little strong. I admit that, but you know, we have had some bad experiences in the past. Gave some people the benefit of the doubt and paid for it."

"Richard! Mason! What is going on?"

"Got company, your Majesty," Richard said.

Ezekiel climbed up to Richard's platform. Mason could hear the murmur of people gathering below, but she didn't dare look away from the Saviors.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ezekiel asked coldly.

"Morning, your Highness. We were just telling your lookouts here that we'd like to have a look-see around your little community. Oh, sorry—name's Simon, by the way."

"Simon. It is not the practice of a self-respecting king to allow contemptible vermin within the empire under his rule. Therefore, never will there come a day when I allow you or your men inside these walls. And should you force my hand, I promise you will bewail the decision that led you to do so."

"Ooh." Simon pursed his lips. "Sounds pretty serious. See, but…here's why I can't take it seriously. You see these men? Well, I brought quite a few of them along with me. Quite a few. You could even say, I brought enough to surround this entire place."

Mason's stomach plummeted somewhere dark and cold. Here it was, exactly what they'd feared might happen. And if the Saviors had enough people to surround this place, that meant they far outnumbered Ezekiel's group.

"Now the only reason we don't storm this gate right now and take this place for ourselves, is because we don't want to waste the resources. We're pretty economical that way. We want what you have, but more than that, we want you. People are the most important resource these days. They are an investment. But…ah. I've given you this speech before. I just feel like it's important to reiterate, since you don't seem to be getting it."

"Take your men and leave, Simon," Ezekiel said. "I will not ask again."

"Oh, we won't be doing that. But that's alright. We can wait. See if we can't persuade you to change your mind."

Simon said nothing after that. He and his men seemed to be getting comfortable, aligned in a circle that did indeed stretch around the edges of the wall. Mason trembled.

"I need to check on Ava," she whispered. "Monty, will you please…?"

"Of course." He stayed put on the watch tower while she scrambled down to the ground.

She halted when she spotted Ava, half-asleep in Charlie's arms. The rest of the Misfits surrounded them, a few of them with guns.

But though there were enough guns, there wasn't enough ammo for everyone.

"What's going on?" Dave asked. "Is it the Saviors?"

"Yes. They say they brought enough men to surround this place. We need to check and see how many of them have weapons."

The Misfits split up to check the other three watch points; Dray and Charlie followed Mason to the west point.

A body lay below the platform, shot through the eye. Mason remembered the earlier gunfire and a cold sweat dewed on her neck. They meant to make an example of the lookouts. That was the first warning.

"Well?" Charlie called once they were up there.

"Fuck," Dray murmured.

The men stood out in the open, completely confident. Because all of them were armed, almost all of them with guns. Where the fuck had they found so many? But that was a stupid question. They had to have stolen them from other people, other groups.

"They're gonna try starve us, maybe freeze us out first," Mason breathed. "Just like we thought. Because they want what's in here. But if we put up a fight, they'll just storm the gate."

"We can't fight that anyway," Dray replied. "We don't have the men or the guns to match that."

There had to be a way. There had to be. Her thoughts bounced like haphazard tennis balls, but landed on nothing concrete.

When the Misfits reconvened, everyone else was gathered near the gate around Ezekiel, talking in hushed voices.

"The other lookouts?" Mason asked.

The Misfits shook their heads, eyes dark.

"…they killed our power, they could just wait until we freeze in here!" Everett said.

"That won't happen. We can build fires, we can stay together for body heat," Kelsey replied.

"Yeah, but what the hell difference will that make in the end?" Deb demanded. "We'll starve eventually, or they'll get bored waiting and force their way in."

"My dear Deb, please." Ezekiel raised his hands for calm. "We cannot hope to foster a solution by giving in to fear."

But no one ventured a solution that seemed viable. All were terrible risks no one seemed confident in taking.

The sun came up while they debated. More lookouts were selected to keep watch but ordered not to fire their weapons unless absolutely necessary. Food would be rationed until a solid plan could be determined. Until then, everyone would shelter in the auditorium to keep warm.

Mason found it nearly impossible to stay cooped up in there. Even when it wasn't her turn on watch, she frequently roamed the community, senses straining for any change from outside, mind churning.

A day passed. The Saviors remained where they were, building fires, playing cards, making themselves right at home. When the sun went down, more men appeared to swap out with them.

"So technically, they have enough people to surround this place twice," Mason reported.

Ezekiel's eyes had tightened, but his determination never wavered.

"We will think of something. Do not lose faith. Fortune shines its light for the good."

She wasn't sure that was how that worked, but she didn't contest it.

When night fell, fire pits were dragged in from outside and spaced out at intervals, hallway windows cracked to let out the smoke. A small dinner was passed out, though Mason refused her share. She didn't think she could stomach eating, anyway. When they weren't on watch shift, the Misfits seemed to be keeping Ava distracted and happy; Mason was pretty sure she thought they were just having a big sleepover. She wondered how long that would last.

At some point, she nabbed a few hours of sleep on a lookout platform while Jerry kept watch, cradling her gun to her chest in case anything happened. But aside from the original group of men switching back at dawn, the Saviors didn't move.

The second day echoed the first. Mason gathered a bunch of toys and games from Harriet's daycare to keep the kids entertained. She kept watch with Jerry, sharing the jar of pomegranate jam for lunch. People passed their ideas around, but nothing substantial. In the evening, Ezekiel honored their dead lookouts with a eulogy, but the bodies couldn't be buried because the ground was frozen.

That night, Ashlee approached Mason, chewing on a strand of hair the way she did when she was nervous.

"Hey, um, I know you're trying to keep busy and stuff, but Ava's really been missing you and, like, maybe tonight you could stay with us?"

Ava's really been missing you. Even through her growing darkness, the words put a lump in her throat.

So she settled in against the wall by the Misfits, trying not to feel uneasy about it. Ava climbed into her lap and babbled about the book Ashlee had read to her earlier, and there was conversation among the Misfits that Mason sometimes got roped into, and it wasn't like how it was before, but it wasn't all bad.

Even though Ava kicked in her sleep, Mason let her use her as a pillow once she nodded off. Some were trying to bed down for the night, others staying up to tend to the fires. Mason closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, listening to the Misfits talk in hushed voices.

"They can't stay standing out there forever, they're gonna get sick of the cold real quick."

"Could just be a matter of days before they decide they're coming in here."

"They're counting on having fear on their side. My guess is they've done shit like this before and it always worked because the people were too afraid to put up a fight. They probably think we'll crack soon."

"They're in for a nasty surprise, then."

"Are they? Or are we?"

Outside, the wind picked up; though they were deep inside the building, its howling still reached them. Mason concentrated on that and let it blur her consciousness.

She was jolted awake by upraised voices, not quite shouting but definitely agitated. She sat up.

"What's going on?"

"Simon asked to see Ezekiel," Charlie answered. "He just got back. The storm isn't letting up outside so the Saviors are giving us until dawn to let them in."

"How far off is that?" Mason clutched Ava tighter.

"Three hours, maybe. Some people are saying we should."

In the center aisle, people gathered around Ezekiel, arguing with him and each other.

"But we shouldn't," Charlie continued. "We shouldn't make it easy for them. If it's the end, then it's the end. I'm not gonna serve them."

"It's not the end," Mason said fiercely. "And we're not making it easy for them, either."

"What do you mean?" Dave asked. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I—I don't know. Let me think for a minute."

"Princess, I love you, but we've had two whole days to come up with something and we've come up with jack shit," Tanner said. "Let's stop pretending some fancy plan's gonna save us and just hit 'em with all we got, I mean, really shove their dicks up their asses."

"That's not helping me think."

"Are you, like, detaching them first, or…?"

Renee huffed. "Tanner, you idiot, that's the kind of dumbass, guns blazing bullshit that got us chased into that abandoned mall. Which we then had to hide out in for twenty-four fucking hours."

"It wasn't twenty-four hours. It was like twenty, tops."

"There has to be some kind of edge," Ashlee murmured. "Something we could use."

Something they could use. Mason had a whole houseful of somethings they could use, a mile out beyond the wall. She gritted her teeth. If there was just a way she could get past the Saviors…

An idea sparked. Risky, but what could they do at this point that wouldn't be?

"Guys." Mason leaned forward. "I have something."

~m~

The wind bit Mason's face as she and the Misfits waited for the signal. They crouched on the roof of a school bus parked up next to the west wall. Sheets, coiled into long ropes, webbed them together arm by arm—a safety precaution advised by the farmer, Sam Stebbins, and enforced by everyone else. Once they got out there, it was going to be hard to see anything.

The first whistle went up on their left. The Saviors turned toward the sound, squinting into the furious wind. Another whistle, this time on the right, and the Saviors turned, creating a gap directly below.

Mason and the Misfits launched themselves over the side of the wall. A deep snowdrift caught them, muffling the sound and cushioning the impact. None of them hesitated. They raced through the gap while the Saviors were still distracted and disappeared into the trees.

They didn't slow, even when they'd put enough distance between them and the Saviors. They had barely two hours to get this done, and they were going to be pushing it.

Mason led the way, legs burning as she cut a path forward. The wind was at their back, but the snow was piled high, up to their thighs in some places. Branches creaked eerily around them. The beam of her flashlight wavered frantically through the white.

There was a terrifying moment when she was sure she'd gone the wrong way, but then her light glanced across a dirty window pane, a rotted face peering out.

"We're there!" she hollered over her shoulder.

The Misfits helped her open the front door, allowing one of the walkers through before slamming it in the rest of the horde's face.

Mason gutted the walker with her Oasis knife and then motioned to it.

"Come get y'all juice."

Dave gagged. The others groaned in disgust.

"Aw, Mason!"

"Girl, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Mason said. "Just…pretend it's face paint. Or makeup. Something."

"Oh, yes. This…" Lily rolled her eyes as she slathered her cheekbones. "This is to get you glowing for the gods."

Once they were properly covered, Mason grabbed the doorknob.

"Remember, they'll follow you so long as you give them something to follow," she said. "So sing or make noise or something. Dave, you got your walkie ready?"

"Yep." Dave held it up. His cheeks puffed out, like he was trying desperately not to vomit.

"Hang in there, soldier." She swung the door open.

Everyone tensed, but the walkers staggered out sedately. Mason reached for her own walkie and radioed in.

"Jerry?"

"Yeah, boss."

"Send up the first flare."

A minute passed, and then a red spark shot through the night. Mason untied one of the sheet ropes connecting them, dissecting the Misfits into two groups.

"Alright, you guys know what to do. Be careful."

"You, too," Dave said and then began to sing. "Somebody once told me…"

Tanner, Lily and Renee joined him, drawing the walkers out of the house and through the trees. Once about half of them had emptied, Mason started singing as well, drawing the second half in the opposite direction. Dray, Charlie and Ashlee added their voices as they led the walkers back the way they'd come.

After about ten minutes, Mason radioed Jerry again to send up a second flare. The Saviors would know something was up, but she didn't think they'd figure out exactly what. That they were signaling for help, certainly. But as far as the Saviors knew, the whole of Ezekiel's group was trapped within the walls and in any case, what help would come in a blizzard? She just hoped they wouldn't decide to breach the gate before the Misfits returned.

Another ten minutes, another flare. Too long, they were taking too long! They had to slow their pace so that the walkers could keep up, which felt excruciating. Mason could almost feel the sun inching its way up, though she saw no softening in the black sky above.

But finally, a figure materialized up ahead. A man. Mason turned off her flashlight but kept singing. Another flare went up, illuminating a row of Saviors just a few feet in front of her. Blinded by the storm, none of them saw her until it was too late.

She grabbed her iron off her back and descended on the men, with her Misfits and the dead at her back. The men screamed, in terror, in pain. Some went running. Others colored the snow with their blood. To the south, a similar cacophony could just be heard over the howling of the wind, and Mason smiled grimly, knowing Dave's group had found their mark.

The first gun she saw, she snatched up, returning her iron to her back. She marched through the storm, one shoulder brushing the wall to keep from losing her way, until she rounded the corner and spotted the gate. A good number of Saviors congregated there, looking around wildly for the source of the commotion.

Mason took aim and fired. Dray, Charlie and Ashlee positioned themselves beside her, all armed with their own confiscated guns. And from all around, on the watch posts, the lookouts took up their arms and fired, as well.

The Saviors scattered. None of them tried to stay and fight. When there were no longer any outside the gate, Mason gave chase. Engines roared to life from different directions; she could spot vague halos of headlights but not the cars themselves. Then the sound faded, leaving only the haunting wail of the wind.

Dave and his group came rushing around the east wall, all with new guns and exhilarated faces.

"Holy shit, did we do it?" he said.

"We did it," Mason murmured, then shouted it again. "We did it!"

And before she could take her next breath, the Misfits crushed her and each other in their arms, jumping up and down and screaming their victory to the night.

~m~

"Hey." Charlie rapped lightly on Mason's open door. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah. Of course."

It was a little past noon. The storm had finally died down and everyone was out bustling around, inventorying all the weapons and useful shit the Saviors had left behind, planning fortification of the community, repairing the generators, or celebrating their victory.

They kept thanking her and the Misfits for their daredevil scheme, so Mason had opted to hide out in her room for a while. She wasn't sure she liked the attention.

Charlie sat on the floor at her feet. There was silence for a minute. Mason twiddled her thumbs.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel like shit for coming back," Charlie finally said. "That wasn't what that was about. I'm really glad you're here."

"I know," Mason said quietly. "But you know…you had every right to be upset. You still do."

"It was just…I told myself you were dead, that…Naomi was. But I didn't see it happen, so there was always this stupid fucking part of me that believed you guys made it. That somehow, somewhere, you were all alive and happy. And even if I didn't see you again, it was okay. It was better that way, because then, if I was wrong, I'd never have to know."

Charlie glanced at her. "It wasn't your fault, Mason. You had to look for your mom, I get it. She was family, and I would've done the same for Naomi."

Mason didn't agree, but she didn't say as much. This wasn't about her. "Okay, but…you know it wasn't your fault, either."

Charlie's chin trembled. She said nothing.

Mason slid down to the floor next to her and took her hand. "It's not your fault, Charlie. What happened just happened. It's not your fault, it never was."

Charlie turned and buried her face in Mason's shoulder, gripping her hard enough to hurt.

"I miss her so much, Mason."

"I know."

Mason held on tight, holding her steady while the sobs shuddered through her. She didn't say anything, just let Charlie soak her shirt. She didn't always have to know what to say. Sometimes there wasn't anything to be said at all.

Eventually, Charlie pulled away, sniffling and wiping a sleeve across her face. "Ava looks so much like her, it hurts. I wish she could've known her."

"I…tell her about Naomi. All the time."

Charlie blinked.

Mason nodded. "It's not the same, but I tell her everything I remember about Naomi, and all the stories you told me, just so she has…something to hold onto. I didn't want her to grow up not knowing who her mother was."

"That's… Thank you."

Charlie smiled a little. Then she punched Mason's arm.

"Don't fucking mention this to anyone."

"Ow, Jesus… Yeah, god forbid anyone knows you feel things. Ooh, the horror."

"Yes, exactly."

When Charlie got to her feet, she offered a hand to Mason. "C'mon. Let's round up the rest of the nerd herd. We never officially celebrated you and Ava finding us. We'll have a big family dinner."

Warmth blossomed in Mason's chest, for the first time in weeks. "That is a stunning idea, Miss Sung."

She smiled and took Charlie's hand.

A/N: So I realize this chapter was really angst-heavy. The next one won't be quite so much, as there will be more action, but it's also not going to be super lighthearted since, you know, they're at war with the Saviors. But, got some twists and turns I'm excited about, so yeah! Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and until next time, much love xoxo.