"If you're going through hell, keep going." — Winston Churchill
Sweat was running down Georgie's face from her hairline, temples and the back of her neck. Her calves and thighs were aching from how hard she was running across the uneven forest floor and her chest felt like it was going to explode from breathing so hard and the fact that anxiety was twisting at her heart and stomach like a blender on high speed. Physically, she was uncomfortable, but it was nowhere near as terrible as how she felt emotionally and mentally.
That horn, that deplorable sound was too loud and the walkers were going off course because they were being drawn to the sound which was coming from Alexandria. The mass of undead bodies would descend upon their home and the loved ones they had left behind within the walls; unaware of what would befall them if the walkers couldn't be pulled back.
There were so many lives to think of and keep safe. After all, that's what leading the walkers away from the quarry had been all about. However, the only lives Georgie gave a shit about were her and Rick's kids and their friends. At this point, Georgie honestly didn't care what happened to the Alexandrians. She wanted to get home and protect her son, Carl and Judith. She wanted to be there alongside Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Tara and, hell…even Eugene. Gabriel? Not so much. Fuck Gabriel.
"Try again," Glenn panted.
Rick and Georgie joined the younger man at his side, coming to a stop, as Rick brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth, "Tobin, it's not stopping. Light it up. You hear me?" There was nothing but static on the other end in response. "Tobin." As a walker came toward them, they began to move onward. "Michonne."
"Got it," Michonne announced, slicing through its head with a graceful upswing of her katana.
As the foursome ran up the forest's incline, the other Alexandrians that had come with them that morning followed behind, and didn't seem to be fairing as well.
"Shit! Shit! It was half. Jesus, it was more than half," an Alexandrian by the name of Sturgess cried like a child who'd just seen the Boogie Man come out from under his bed.
"We just gotta stay ahead of them," a female Alexandrian named Anne replied with a more calm and collected manner. "They walk, we run."
"Rick," came Daryl's voice over the radio.
"I'm here," he answered into his walkie-talkie.
"What's going on back there?"
"Half of them broke off. They're going toward Alexandria."
"Towards you?" Abraham asked through the static on his end.
"We ran ahead. There's a horn or something. Loud, coming from the east. It's not stopping."
"I'm gonna gas it up, turn back," Daryl insisted.
"We have it. You keep going."
"They're gonna need our help."
"Gotta keep the herd moving."
"Not if it's going down, we don't."
"The rest of that herd turns around; the bad back there gets worse." No response came right away. Rick took a brief moment to throw a wary glance toward Georgie who was staring straight ahead; focused on continuing forward and not breaking pace, but he could tell she was listening just as carefully to the back and forth over the radio. "Daryl?"
"Yeah, I heard you."
Up the incline they all continued. For a moment, Nicholas paused and then Anne fell forward, hooking her foot in a rut in the ground or something. Everyone stopped long enough to make sure she was okay.
"You okay?" Glenn asked, immediately at the brunette's side.
"It's my ankle," she bit out, in mild pain, as she tried standing up on her own.
Glenn, however, opted to help by throwing her arm around his shoulder as she hopped along beside him. "Alright, come on. Grab on. Let's go. Come on."
At the top of the incline, they reached a leaf-covered dirt road of sorts. Instinctively, Georgie reached her hand out toward Rick's. It was a way of mentally and physically touching base with each other, to assure one another that they were okay and they would get through whatever this was. As the others began to step out of the woods and join them on the road, Rick gave her a knowing look in response that said so much to her.
They were both thinking of their kids and they were scared, but right now they had to do what needed to be done to keep them safe, even if it met putting themselves at risk. Such was the life of a parent in the apocalypse.
"All right, listen up. Here's the new plan," Rick declared. "I go back, get the RV, circle around the woods on Redding. I'll get in front of them before they get there. I can lead them away again."
"RV's a mile back. I can go with you," offered David, another Alexandrian, quite admirably.
"I'll handle it. Just get home. They might need you there." Looking to his own with a nod of his head, Rick muttered, "Glenn, Georgie, Michonne." As they stepped away from the others to have a sidebar with him, he kept walking, forcing them to follow as he talked. "If something's in front of you, you kill it. No hiding, no waiting. You keep going."
"I'm going with you. You can't do this on your own," Glenn asserted.
"If anyone's going with him, it's me."
Rick looked between his lover and his friend. "Neither of you are," he maintained. "I can do this."
"You need to help me," Michonne whispered as she primarily eyed Glenn. "We've got to get these people back."
"Yeah," Rick muttered. "Thing is, they aren't all gonna make it."
"Rick."
"You try to save them, you try, but they can't keep up, you keep going. You have to. You make sure you get back." His eyes flitted from each of the three standing around him, falling lastly on Georgie.
With pursed lips, she steeled herself at the idea of separating from him. This was too dangerous of a task for him to undertake by himself and if something went wrong, how would she ever know? "I don't like this," she remarked quietly.
"You don't have to like it, Georgie. You just gotta do it, alright?"
She couldn't reply; she just cast an eye over at Glenn who seemed just as reluctant to let Rick go off on his own as well.
As they let Rick's decision settle among them, a scream of pain came from the trees where they'd left the Alexandrians, along with the familiar snarl of a walker. Running to see who it was, they discovered it was Barnes, yet another of the Alexandrians, who was lying on his back beside some trees while a walker was biting into his throat. Rick was at the man's side as quick as possible, trying hard to pry the walker away. As soon as the walker was separated from Barnes, it fell backward, ripping out a chunk from the front of Barnes' throat. Barnes stopped crying out in pain as he choked on the blood pouring from the now gaping wound while Michonne shoved the end of her katana into the walker's face.
The Alexandrians stood around helplessly and in shock at the death of another their own, which also proved Rick right in that not all of them — meaning the Alexandrians — would make it back.
Crouching down beside Barnes' body, Georgie removed her hunting knife from its sheath on her hip and shoved the blade into one of his eye sockets. There was no saving him now, the same as there had been no saving Carter. It was a mercy kill, plain and simple, and fortunately the Alexandrians seemed to understand that by their lack of shock and horror over the move she'd made. That wasn't to say, however, that they weren't distraught by the ordeal.
As Georgie wiped her blade on Barnes' shirt, she stood up between Rick and Glenn and looked off toward the direction of Alexandria.
At the lack of noise in the distance.
"The horn stopped," Rick stated the obvious. "Good." Stepping around, he crouched down beside Barnes' body instead and began to remove the gun and what looked to be a granola bar from the dead man. He stared up at the others and stated in a firm tone, "Get back safe."
Standing back up, Rick walked past the Alexandrians, leaving them behind with his people, without another word. Not even to Georgie.
Overcome with a wave of dread, Georgie stalked off over to him as she returned her knife to its safekeeping. Reaching her hand out, as the others began to make their way back home toward Alexandria, she grabbed onto Rick's wrist and stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Rick lifted his eyes up from the ground and rested them upon Georgie's face.
"Not even a goodbye or good luck?" she questioned. "Don't do that. Not to me."
Rick frowned; guilt appearing on his face. "I'm sorry. I'm just—distracted." Tucking Barnes' gun into the back of his pants and then sticking the granola bar into one of his pockets, he lifted his right hand to the back of Georgie's head, pulling her toward him in a tender embrace. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders as he turned his head and placed a kiss upon her cheek. "Please be safe." When he pulled back from her, he looked her in the eye with complete seriousness and concern. "I wanna be able to come back home to you."
"You will," she assured, nodding her head. Leaning forward, she placed her lips upon his and the two of them hesitating in parting from the worry that it could be their last kiss. "You be safe, too," Georgie added when they finally came up for air. "You come home to me."
"I will."
With a nod toward each other and hands lingering upon hands, Rick and Georgie forced themselves to step back and separate. Inhaling a steadying breath, she stepped around him and walked away, back toward the others. Georgie clenched her jaw, unaware that Rick had stolen a glance back at her before he, himself, continued forward in the opposite direction.
It couldn't have been more than ten minutes of walking through the woods with the others when Georgie began to have second thoughts. Her hands went back and forth between being clenched into fists at her side or her fingers fidgeting. She hated leaving Rick to go off on his own. Two heads were supposed to be better than one. Even if it wasn't her, someone should have gone with him, regardless of what he claimed.
"Why are you still here?"
Georgie lifted her head and turned to look at Michonne with a questioning gaze. "Huh?"
"You're not here mentally," the other woman voiced quietly. "So why are you still here physically?"
"I need to get home. The kids."
"And you will. Just not with us."
Georgie snickered. "You kicking me out of the band?"
"You really want to be here with us or back there with him?" Michonne shook her head, as if answering her own question. "Rick is stubborn as a bull with a bit of a savior complex. You know that. He doesn't always accept help when he needs it but he'll give it to those who do. He can't and shouldn't do this on his own." She gestured to the others around them. "There's enough of us. There's only one of Rick."
"The kids, though."
"They'll be okay. We'll get home to them, make sure they're safe. But someone needs to be with Rick and make sure he's safe, too, and I know you want that to be you."
Georgie nodded slowly in agreement. "I do."
"So then what's keeping you? We got this. Go."
Both women stopped walking for a moment and then both nodded at each other. Without another word spoken, Michonne looked forward and Georgie turned and began to run off in the opposite direction through the woods where they had all come from. Neither had said goodbye. It was just inherently known, or at least believed, that they would see each other again soon enough.
Georgie unsheathed her hunting knife and darted around tree after tree, dead leaves and twigs crunching and snapping under the soles of her boots. A few spindly branches scratched at her bare arms but not hard enough where it drew blood. It stung, sure, but it was minimal pain that was soon forgotten after a few moments.
Having always had a decent sense of direction, for the most part, finding her way back toward Rick was more or less easy enough. She was running fast enough through the forest that she reached the dead bodies of Barnes and the walkers where they'd left them in half the time it had taken to leave them behind. If she kept up the pace, and managed to figure out the precise direction Rick had continued along, she would get to him in no more than ten or fifteen minutes if she was lucky.
Her lungs were burning from all the exertion before long and she so desperately wanted to stop and take a breather, but adrenaline kicked in where she needed it, here and there. A few walkers tried lunging at her, but she was faster; either ducking out of their way or taking a quick moment to stab them in the skull.
From the time she'd spent on the road with Rick and the others, she'd picked up some tracking tips from Daryl. There had been one day, in the time immediately following Beth's death in Atlanta, when they had all stopped to rest and were dangerously low on food. Daryl was going to go off on his own to hunt some squirrels, rabbits or whatever else he could catch, and Georgie had asked if she could join him. She remembered having a particularly bad day, emotionally. It was before Greensboro and the whole debacle of thinking she had found her son's dead body in that hidden room, but she still had those moments of doubt she would ever find him. That day, going off with Daryl for a few hours, had been no different. And it was nice to break away from the others for a bit and focus on something entirely different.
She was putting what little bit of tracking she'd learned from the shaggy-haired archer to good use now. She saw large footprints here and there that looked fresh. They weren't smudged in the dirt, so she knew the footprints didn't come from a walker dragging its feet, but instead from a living person.
As she neared the edge of the woods, a walker practically jumped out at her, causing her to yelp slightly. Because the section of woods she was in was still part of that incline, being startled as she was caused her to lose her footing. Georgie fell backward onto her ass and somersaulted, feet over head, until she came to rest upon her back while staring up at the walker that had dropped to its knees and was reaching out toward her with decayed fingers. Her knife had been knocked free of her hand in her tumble and was out of reach, putting her in a terrible predicament as the walker began to climb over her body; reaching for her face as it chomped at air with a jaw that was severely dislocated and held together by some remaining tendons in its face.
She kicked her leg up between its legs but, as it was dead, there was no pain for the walker to register or get angry about. It just kept trying to come at her like that pink Duracell bunny from the commercials. Pushing against its virtually skeletal chest seemed futile. Georgie was still exhausted from running through the words as hard and fast as she had been that her arms felt like wet noodles.
"No," she whimpered as its teeth came nearer to her neck.
Digging her fingers into its eye sockets as a last ditch effort, Georgie struggled to reach the brain and was almost there when a figure appeared, standing over her and the walker, and the blur of something swinging downward.
Blood splattered a little onto Georgie's face and she instinctively closed both her eyes and her mouth. The walker's body slumped down upon hers for a moment before whoever had arrived lifted it off her.
"What happened to the others?"
Georgie popped her eyes open and found herself staring up at Rick; his curls clinging damply around his face, sweat glistening on his skin and his blue eyes casting a mix of concern and aggravation at her. She let out a breath of relief at the sight of him.
"On their way back to Alexandria, like you told them," she replied as he offered her his hand to help her up to her feet.
"And why aren't you?" He leaned in as he spoke, gritting his teeth.
Georgie shrugged. "I couldn't…I couldn't go back without you. I couldn't let you do this alo—" Before she could even finish, Rick was walking away, shaking virtually blackened walker blood from the blade of his knife. "Rick, I'm sorry. I couldn't do it."
He looked briefly over his shoulder at her, but kept walking as he took note that she had bent down to pick her knife up off the ground. "So you wanted to risk our kids losing both of us today?"
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
"No, it's not," she insisted, hurrying to catch up to him. "This is none of our fault and we don't know what's going to happen. What if my going with the others would've been more dangerous? What if I got myself killed from protecting those nitwits who don't know their ass from a hole in the ground? Huh?" He didn't respond, just kept stalking forward, but she matched his pace as she hurried along with him at his side. "If I'm dying today it's at your side, either together or in your arms, or both."
Rick stopped for a moment and turned to look her directly in the eye. "You ain't dying today."
Georgie stared back, the right side of her mouth lifting slightly in a half smirk. "What a coincidence. I had no plans on dying today."
Rolling his eyes, but clearly not aggravated with her anymore, if he truly even was to begin with, Rick gestured for her to keep moving as he did just that.
Together they began to sprint down the remainder of the incline, around trees and passing the occasional walker which they easily dispatched. After barely five minutes more, they came out onto the section of Redding Road the walkers had passed along earlier, but it was now barren. The sun was beating down on them the instant they stepped foot out of the protection of the forest's shade. Heat simmering off the pavement gave the appearance of water on the road a ways up, which they both knew was just a mirage. However, water cooling and soothing their throats would've been greatly welcomed at that moment.
Without hesitation, Rick and Georgie began to run up the road in the direction of the wall that had been built at the intersections of Marshall and Redding roads, where the RV was parked on the other side. Sweat was dripping relentlessly down their faces, the backs of their necks and their backs in general. Feeling and looking as they did suddenly felt like when they were on the road after Greensboro, those few days before Aaron found them, when that heat wave and the absence of food and water was doing a number on all of them.
They continued running, stopping once in a while to catch their breath and make sure the other wasn't about to pass out from heat stroke. Not too long after, they spotted a few walkers up the road from them, crouched down over a fresh corpse they were feasting on.
At that same moment, Rick's walkie-talkie crackled to life as he pulled out his knife and went after the first walker that stood up when it noticed their presence.
"Rick, it's Glenn. We're in a town five degrees east of the green marker. If you get around on Redding in the next 20 minutes, you should be good. I think that's how far we're ahead of the herd."
Rick took out that first walker by jamming his knife into the side of its skull. However, he struggled trying to get it back out and, in the process, the blade broke off.
"I'm gonna try to set a fire and distract them. If you don't see smoke, they're still coming your way."
Georgie went after the third walker while Rick went after the second; the one with a machete lodged in its right shoulder.
"I got to go. Good luck, dumbass."
Whipping her head around after dropping the third walker with her hunting knife, Georgie looked at Rick who was clenching his left hand tight and wincing in pain. "What happened? Are you bit?" she asked nervously. Instinctively she reached for his hand to inspect whatever wound he'd received.
"No," he shook his head and held up the machete. "Cut it on this."
"Is it gonna be okay?" She wasn't entirely convinced.
"Yeah," he insisted as he continued to walk forward. "It's my blood, not his."
Rick gestured toward that second walker, now lying completely dead on the ground and then crouched down beside the body of the dead man that the walkers had been devouring. Taking a breath and looking upward, he lifted the machete and then drove it down into the man's forehead.
"Check his pockets," Georgie advised, wiping the blood from his hand that had transferred onto hers upon her pants.
Rick took a gun off the dead man and shoved it into the satchel lying beside him on the ground. He also took two knives and a granola bar; tossing them into the satchel as well.
"Give me the bag."
"I got it," Rick remarked stubbornly, throwing the strap over his shoulder and draping the satchel across his chest to rest upon his hip.
She wasn't going to fight him over it, so she just stepped back as he stood up. With a nod of his head, Rick indicated that they continue onward.
"When we get to the RV, you gotta let me take a look at your hand," Georgie commented as they resumed their run up the road with renewed vigor. "We should have a few minutes of downtime while we wait for Glenn's signal and you shouldn't let that cut stay open like that too long."
"Yes, mother."
"Hey, I'm just trying to look out for the man I love," Georgie panted. "So sue me."
Rick tried his best not to smirk. "It's appreciated," he answered quietly, between haggard breaths.
Minutes up the road, Rick was gritting his teeth as he ignored the pain he was in. His lungs and legs felt like they were on fire from all the running, his feet were throbbing and he was more than positive he had a blister or two inside his boots, and the cut on his hand still stung like a motherfucker. His legs being slightly longer meant that Georgie was running at a few paces behind him but he wouldn't allow her to get left behind. If she had to stop to catch her breath, then he did too. Fortunately, they approached the wall where there was a huge pile of walkers, writhing from where they'd dropped after smashing themselves into the wall and getting subsequently trampled by the others in the process.
Not one walker was in the position to get free from the pile and all they could do was reach aimlessly at Rick and Georgie as the pair cut across to the embankment on the side of Marshall Road. They darted around the edge of the wall that reached into the trees and then back down the other side with Rick leading the way to the RV. As soon as he got the door open, he gestured for Georgie to climb in first, and then followed after her. Tossing the satchel down between the driver's seat and the passenger seat, Rick reached under the console for where the keys had been stashed. Georgie took a seat beside him, mentally questioning herself in regard to whether or not she should insist on driving, what with the cut on the palm of his hand.
Turning the key and bringing the vehicle to life, Rick pulled the RV away with a rough lurch, sending Georgie sideways toward him. She caught herself, placing her hands out upon the dashboard as she glanced at him briefly and then ahead of them at the other half of Redding they were now traveling quickly down.
"You okay to drive?" she asked, casting him a concerned gaze as she watched his chest heaving from being able to catch his breath. "I can do it."
"No, I got it."
Georgie didn't say anything else. She sat back in her seat and tipped her head against the headrest, letting her own breathing get back to normal. Licking her dry, chapped lips, she allowed herself to close her eyes for a little bit. She was trying not to think too negatively; about what was headed toward Alexandria.
If that herd reached the walls, and the walls came down, where would everyone inside go? Would they do their best and barricade themselves indoors. The townhouses would be ideal. Everyone should gather there, preferably on the top floors; as far away from the walkers as possible. If they had to flee, hopefully they could make it out safely. But where would they go? How would Rick and she find them? And the worst thought of all: what if the herd got in and tore their family apart? What if they got back too late? What if all that was left of their children and their friends were shredded limbs and bloody, internal organs strewn everywhere?
Leaning forward, Georgie placed her face in her hands and sighed nervously.
If she managed to find out who was behind that horn, she was going to rip their larynx out with her bare hands. If it weren't for that damned horn, everything would've been fine. The herd would've remained on course and not headed to Alexandria, which had been the entire point of getting them out of the quarry to begin with.
"You okay?" Rick questioned after a moment.
"Having a mini panic attack, maybe, but I'll live," she replied, sitting up slowly.
Rick stole a look at her and nodded. His breath seemed shaky, and not just from being winded from the running anymore. He was feeling just as scared, nervous, angry and worried as she was. "It'll be okay," he remarked, as if reading her mind. "They'll be okay."
"I fucking hope so." Georgie chewed on the inside of her bottom lip for a moment, shaking her head. "I should've stayed home. I should be there right now for Tristan, and for Carl and Judith. They're so exposed, even with the walls and the people there to protect them. They don't know what's coming." Tears were stinging her eyes. "And that horn…what was that horn? Who was doing that? Wh-what if the wall doesn't hold?"
"It's gonna be okay," Rick repeated, more adamantly, glancing at her again.
"I'm a shitty mother. I should've stayed with the kids. I lost Avery and I thought I lost Tristan so many times and now it's going to happen for real, isn't it? I should've stayed behind in Alexandria this morning. Tristan is not handling his father being dead very well and that's on me, and I have been passing him off to Carol to look after while I helped with the wall and this fucking herd and I should be there!"
Georgie had never had panic attacks before, but if she was going to put a name on what she was feeling at the moment, that was it. The unrelenting fear, worry and dread that were weighing down on her got her pulse racing and her hands shaking. She turned away from Rick so he wouldn't see her breakdown and cry. She could tell he was trying to look at her while maintaining an eye on the road.
As the RV slowed to a stop, Rick put it into park and then turned off the ignition. "Georgie, look at me." She didn't, so he continued regardless. "You're not a shitty mother. You're strong, you're a born leader. You love hard and fierce and that's what makes you great. We all have our moments of weakness, but you gotta get it together. We can't both break down right now."
Hesitantly, Georgie turned to her left, wiping her tears with the back of her hand when she looked over at Rick too see he was just as shaken as she was. "I'm sorry," she replied, trying to get her breathing and nerves in check. "I just…I guess I just needed to…"
"It's alright," he assured, seemingly understanding what she was trying to say, even if she wasn't. Reaching down, he unclipped the walkie-talkie from his belt and brought it up to his lips. "Glenn. Georgie and I are in place by my best guess. You guys make it back yet?" There was only static hissing back at him in response. "Glenn."
More static.
Georgie blinked a few times as she turned her upper torso more toward Rick and nodded at him. "Try the others."
Nodding back, Rick took a deep breath and held the button in again. "Tobin, you there?"
"Keep trying," she urged, brushing some of her hair off her face.
"Daryl?"
There was static again, but then it was followed by the sound of a revved up engine.
"I'm here."
Rick looked at Georgie with a sigh of mild relief. "Won't be long now," he informed. "They're almost here. We'll get them going your way again." Glancing at Georgie, he reassuringly mouthed the words 'we will' to her.
"I hope so," she muttered, in barely above a whisper.
"How 'bout that, Daryl? He's gonna be coming our way," Sasha's voice crackled over the radio.
Rick and Georgie kept looking at each other. Both seemed to be less tense now. Hearing the voices of their friends had seemed to help a little.
What didn't help was the sound of incessant gunfire in the distance, coming from the direction of Alexandria.
The couple turned their heads toward it and tensed back up like clockwork. When Georgie looked to Rick, she saw he was already bringing the walkie-talkie back up to his lips.
"There's gunfire coming from back home. We gotta sit with it and hope they can handle it. I think they can. They have to," he spoke. "We keep going forward for them. Can't turn back 'cause we're afraid."
Rick eyed Georgie, and she nodded in agreement.
"We ain't afraid," Abraham insisted over the radio.
"This is for them. Going back now before it's done, that'd be for us," Rick persisted. Sitting back and looking out the windows, Rick took in a breath and nodded, mostly to himself, as if he was convincing himself of what he was saying to the others. "The herd has to be almost here."
Pulling the visor down above him, Rick revealed some tissues that were tucked away there. He took two or three, maybe four, of them and pressed them into the palm of his left hand where his cut was to help sop up the blood.
"Hey, I said I'd do that," Georgie remarked, getting up with effort, considering how achy her legs still felt from all that running. "Let me go see if there's any bandages hidden away in a First Aid kit somewhere."
"Yeah, alright. Thanks."
As she sauntered toward the back of the RV, she opened the cupboards above the kitchen area but saw nothing other than plates and cups and some canned goods from previous runs the RV had been taken on. She checked the bathroom next, holding open the door and looking around.
"You know, what Abraham just said," she spoke. "Of course he isn't scared. The Boogie Man checks under his bed at night for Abraham."
Rick smirked a little at that. "I'm sure he does," he replied.
Bringing the walkie-talkie up to his lips, he paused for a moment, wanting to say something else to his friends who were listening. He was interrupted, however, when the RV slammed open and someone immediately opened fire at him. Instinctively, Rick dove into the passenger seat to avoid getting struck while Georgie, startled, ducked backward into the bedroom of the RV. She patted herself down and realized she didn't have a gun on her. She'd had a Beretta tucked into the back of her pants earlier, but when she took that tumble in the woods it must've fallen out and gotten covered by leaves because she never saw it when she picked her knife back up. There were the guns in the satchel though. The only problem was the satchel was in the front of the RV, which didn't help her to help Rick.
She was a sitting duck, with only her knife and a prayer.
Jumping up from the passenger seat, Rick threw himself at the gunman, body slamming him to the floor. As he struggled to choke the guy, Rick was pulled off by a second man who had stepped up into the RV. Rick, did get a single kick out to the guy's face. What good it did was questionable, as both attackers seemed pretty resilient.
As Rick managed to toss the second man back off him, he whipped around with his Colt drawn and fired a single shot into the man's head. Turning back around toward the gunman, he prepared to fire a shot into his head as well, but found Georgie crouched down, pulling her hunting knife from the man's eye socket.
Georgie sat back and looked up at him with a nod, and he gave her a nod in return.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Are you? Did you get hit?"
"No," Rick shook his head. "I'm okay."
"Good."
Stepping over the gunman's body, Rick holstered his gun and extended his hand to Georgie to help her up to her feet. "Thank you."
"For what?" Georgie furrowed her brow, quite uncertain on what he was talking about.
"For having my back," he replied, gesturing down at the gunman.
She smirked in response. "You'd do the same."
"I would. In a heartbeat," he nodded.
Staring him in the eye, a wave of calm enveloped her. "I don't know if this is the right moment, but you need to kiss me because this day is getting more and more fucked up and just in case we don't get another moment, we need to take it now."
"Like you gotta ask," Rick said in all seriousness.
Leaning forward, he placed his right hand against her waist and gripped the material of her shirt. Pulling her closer toward him, he pressed his lips fully upon hers. Without hesitation, she slid the hand that wasn't still holding her knife up his chest and clung to his shirt as she reciprocated the kiss. The softness and yet hunger in which he kissed allowed them both to forget their predicament for a few seconds.
And that's all it was, really; a few seconds. But it felt like a lifetime, which is exactly why they needed that moment. It was like a coach calling for a timeout during a really important football game to get his players' heads straight.
When their lips parted from each other, Rick let his head linger for moment, rubbing his forehead against her like a cat brushing against its owner's leg to show love and affection.
Without a word, Rick stepped back from her and returned toward the front of the vehicle, but Georgie was right behind him as she stepped over the gunman's body. As he began digging through the second attacker's pockets, Georgie looked at the face of the gunman and took notice of the W engraved into his forehead.
"Rick, he has one of those W's on his head, like the ones Daryl and Morgan talked about." When Rick didn't respond, she repeated his name. "Rick."
Turning toward him, she saw he was holding a jar of baby food in his hand and Georgie blanched slightly; the fears she had rattled off shortly before suddenly feeling as if they were coming to life.
Why would these men have baby food? Did they come from Alexandria? Were they responsible for the horn and the gunfire she and Rick had heard? Did they harm their people back home? Were the kids okay? Were they alive?
"Oh god," she muttered under her breath as Rick narrowed his eyes and peered out the driver's side window.
Turning toward her, he held a finger to his hips to silence her. Quietly he passed her a gun from the satchel and then gestured toward the side mirror outside, at three unfriendly types coming up along the side of the RV. Picking up his assault rifle, Rick began to fire along the wall; emptying his magazine into the approaching trio.
Georgie, however, didn't fire a single shot. Not because she was scared or couldn't, but because she didn't need to. Rick had it more than covered. No one would survive his barrage of bullets.
Setting the rifle down, Rick pulled the second attacker away from the passenger seat and dragged him over to lay on top of his dead buddy. He gestured for Georgie to take a seat, which she did without hesitation, as he also sat back down in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.
Except the engine wasn't turning over.
It just kept sputtering with each attempt Rick made.
Georgie watched him as he started to shake his head from side to side. His unwavering, hard as nails exterior began to crack, revealing the man was just a scared boy underneath. Tears stung his eyes as he muttered 'no' over and over and slammed his fist on the dashboard to no avail.
Her heartbeat racing once again, Georgie realized what this meant for them.
If they couldn't get the RV started, they couldn't lead away the second herd that was headed their way which, in turn, would head toward Alexandria.
"Keep trying," she muttered, reiterating her earlier statement.
"It's not working."
"Just keep trying. We gotta keep trying, right?"
As Rick turned to look at her, the sound of snarling and groaning began to fill the air. They both focused their attention toward the outside; Georgie out the window at her side and Rick toward the open RV door. The shambling figures of walkers were beginning to appear from out of the trees.
"Fuck," Georgie cursed. She looked back at Rick who seemed lost in thought. "Rick, we need to run." When he didn't respond and just stared out the open door, she frowned and reached her hand out to give him a light slap to the face, which seemed to do the trick. "We need to run."
Letting his eyes focus on her instead, Rick nodded. "Y-yeah, sorry."
In a flurry of motion, Rick grabbed up the satchel and threw it around his body again, and then did the same with his assault rifle. Georgie removed a second gun from the satchel to make sure she had a spare if the one he'd given her ran out of bullets. Both stood up and stepped over toward the door and looked at each other.
"On three?" she questioned.
"Yeah," he replied. "One."
"Two."
"Three," they both said at the same time, as he darted out first and began to shove some of the undead away to give her a wider berth to get by.
They each began using their knives to jab the walkers in the head, but mostly chose to just kick them back a few feet and buy themselves some time to get a head start, even if it wasn't much of one. Taking her by the hand, Rick gripped tight and ran with her until they put about thirty feet between them and the dead. He then let go of her hand and the pair of them beat pavement harder than before.
The threat was even realer now, and more imminent. There would be no stopping this half of the herd from reaching Alexandria. They just needed to get home where it would be safer. At least they would be with their children and friends.
For nearly a half hour, they ran; barely taking even seconds to stop and catch their breath.
Like a cliché, Georgie lost her footing when she stepped the wrong way on some loose gravel, sending her downward onto her hands and knees. Her knees had been protected by her jeans but her palms, which helped break her fall, skidded across the asphalt and scraped her skin pretty badly. She cried out in pain, which was to be expected, and stumbled to get back up as she mentally kicked herself for her making such a klutz move at such an inopportune movement. It didn't even matter that it was something she couldn't have prevented or not. She hated herself a little bit for it either way.
Fortunately, Rick was there for her, grabbing her roughly by the arm and bringing her back up to her feet, and then they were both off again without breaking their stride; as is if her fall hadn't happened.
"My lungs…are on…fire…" Georgie panted.
"Mine, too," he agreed, gritting through the searing pain in his chest. "We gotta…just keep going. Keep going…"
The road curved, their pace was slowing and the walkers were seriously gaining on them, but they were in the final stretch now. They could see the gates to Alexandria a quarter mile up ahead and it was enough for their adrenaline to give them an extra boost. The majority of the herd was directly behind then, but many others were going through the trees and would come out on the other sides of the walled community. That was something Rick and Georgie couldn't concern themselves with at the moment. They had to get home, inside those walls.
"OPEN THE GATE!" Rick shouted. "OPEN THE GATE! OPEN THE GATE NOW!"
Metal clanking was a wonderful sound for Rick and Georgie as they gate was rolled open, revealing Michonne first, then Maggie, and Tobin not far behind. As the pair got nearer, a walker stepped directly in front of Rick, so he shoved it away, but in his exhaustion he tumbled down to the ground. Georgie, however, returned the favor by yanking him upward as they hobbled forward as fast as they could despite their legs feeling ready to completely give out underneath them.
Dodging a few more walkers, their sprint to the gate was mere feet and as soon as they were inside, they fell forward and dropped against the wall perpendicular to the gate. They stared upward at the walkers lashing out, their arms shoved through the metal bars, snarling and gnashing their rotten teeth like animals in the wild. Georgie slumped against Rick's chest and he threw an arm around her, pressing his lips to her forehead as they struggled to regain their breath and a normal heartbeat.
As they turned their attention away from Michonne dragging the secondary gate closed, the couple found themselves staring up at Deanna who was standing there dumbfounded; with the same look of shock she'd had immediately following her husband's death.
Maggie crouched down in front of them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, looking them in the eye with concern. "Ya'll alright? D'you run this entire way?"
Rick went to speak, but nothing came out. His lungs and throat still felt like they were on fire and his mouth was too dry. All he could do was hold up a finger to indicate she hold on a minute while he took some deep breaths to collect himself.
"Someone get them some water," Maggie called out over her shoulder.
"What happened? Why is the herd here?" Tobin wondered.
"Doesn't really matter how, does it?" Michonne questioned rhetorically, eyeing the slightly older man. "They're here. We'll deal with it accordingly."
"Let's get 'em to the Infirmary," Maggie suggested. "Looks like they got some nasty cuts and scrapes that should get cleaned up." Focusing on the couple, she offered a rueful smile. "We'll get you some water and food. Then rest for a bit."
Rick shook his head. "No," he croaked. "I gotta—"
"You're gonna drop dead from exhaustion," Maggie cut him off. "I say yes."
"They're not going anywhere," Georgie added in between a deep breath. "Neither are we." She lifted a finger and made a swirling motion with it. "They're gonna surround us."
"Come on," Michonne muttered, grabbing Rick's arm and helping up to his feet while Tobin did the same for Georgie. "We'll discuss this all soon."
Rick caved and nodded. "Alright."
As he and Georgie were escorted toward the Infirmary, they both noticed bodies being piled beside each other; those of their fellow Alexandrians, and those of a few unknowns. There was blood splatter here and there on the pavement and plenty of Alexandrians were gathering around to help clean up or just stare around in a similar state of shock to that of Deanna.
"I'm fine. I can walk," she said to Tobin, shrugging him off and then watching as he nodded and headed back toward the gate. "What happened here?" Georgie inquired, anxiously. "The kids—"
"The kids are fine," Maggie assured without missing a beat. "They're safe at home. Carl protected them." She cast an eye toward Rick. "You should be proud of him."
Rick nodded. "I am. I always am."
"What happened here?" Georgie repeated. "Where did that truck outside the wall come from? Why are there so many dead people?"
"We were attacked by these people with W's on their foreheads. We don't know how they got in. They had no guns; just knives, machetes, axes. They were just…slaughtering people without rhyme or reason," Maggie explained grimly as they rounded the pond. "It's like it was some sort of game to them. As if it was for fun."
"Yeah," Rick muttered, looking at Georgie. "We, uh, encountered two of 'em."
As they were brought toward the front entrance to the Infirmary, Carl came running up the street from the main house. "Dad! Dad!"
Rick whipped around and stopped from heading inside until his son caught up. When the teenager reached them, he threw his arms around his father's middle and the duo embraced.
"I heard what you did," Rick commented. "How you protected Tristan and Judy. I'm proud of you."
"I just did what you would do." Carl shrugged the compliment off as if it were nothing in a very teen sort of way. "I had Enid with me to help. But, she, uh…she left."
"Did she go home?"
Carl shook his head. "No, I think she went over the walls." The younger Grimes eyed his father. "Dad, I wanna go find her."
Rick shook his head adamantly. "There's no going outside these walls right now. Half the herd broke off. They were drawn away from by that horn."
"They're at the walls now," Georgie added. "If Enid got out, you just gotta hope she made it somewhere safe."
"I can't just sit around if she's out there by herself."
"And you can't go out there," Rick stressed. "Don't make me take back saying how proud I am."
Carl shoulders slumped. "Fine," he grumbled, though he clearly wasn't.
"Go home, stay with Tristan and Judy. We'll be back there soon enough. Alright?"
"Yeah, okay," Carl nodded obediently. He looked between his father and then Georgie. "I'm glad you made it back safe."
Georgie smiled and brushed some of the teen's hair off his face. "We're glad you kids are safe, too," she replied.
As the boy turned and wandered back down the road, Maggie finally ushered Rick and Georgie inside of the Infirmary, where there was blood on the floor under one of the operating beds and where Scott, an Alexandrian, lay unconscious in the same bed Tara had been occupying earlier in the week.
"What happened to him?" Georgie wondered with concern whereas Rick didn't seem too fazed by it as he sauntered over to a stool at the kitchen island and sat down.
"Friendly fire," Michonne replied.
As Georgie walked over and sank down into the more comfortable chair near the bed, she felt instant relief. She and Rick stared at each other and shared a sad smile.
This day had not gone worked out the way they'd wanted it, but at least they were alive, and their children were alive and their—
"Where's Glenn?" Rick asked. "He said to look for fire. I never saw it. He didn't reply on the walkie, but then again neither did Tobin and yet Tobin's here."
Maggie and Michonne shared a look.
"What?" Rick pressed. "Is Glenn—is he—"
Michonne shrugged but also shook her head. "I just got done telling Maggie before you two arrived," she remarked. "We made it to a town, but it got overrun. Glenn split off with Nicholas. He had an idea that if he lit a fire, it would stop the walkers from coming here, that it would keep them distracted. I wanted to go in his place, but he insisted he had to do it. The fire never got lit and we had to keep going. Glenn said if he got stuck, he would find a way to send us a signal. What kind of signal, though, I don't know."
Rick nodded and looked to Maggie, reaching out a hand and grabbing hold of hers. "Glenn's a fighter. He'll pull through. We can't give up hope on him."
"I'm not," Maggie insisted, although the sadness in her eyes wasn't entirely convincing.
Georgie sat forward, frowning. She couldn't imagine the anxiety Maggie was feeling right now. She'd lost her father and sister mere weeks apart, and now, a month later, there was a chance she'd lost her husband.
This world they lived in was crueler than usual sometimes.
The sound of footsteps on stairs alerted all four of them, and then a somewhat chunky woman with glasses and dark blonde hair in a ponytail entered the room with a large book in her hands. When she saw all the people standing or sitting there she seemed to jump out of her skin, and then she covered it up with a nervous laugh.
"Oh, hey. People. Hi." She gave an awkward wave. "I haven't met most of you, because I'm pretty much a hermit. Not big on the whole social function thing so I didn't get to meet you at Deanna's party last week."
Georgie narrowed her gaze. "Who are you?"
"I'm Denise. Technically I'm the new doctor since Jake's gone. I say 'technically' because I was in med school to become a surgeon but I have issues with anxiety, so I became a psychiatrist instead. So, you know, if you ever wanna talk about your childhood traumas, I'm your girl. I'm just not…I'm all this place has now, so I'm trying."
"Hey, you're doing more than any of us could," Michonne assured.
Denise smiled appreciatively. "It's nice of you to say. I wish I could believe it." She pointed at Rick's hand when she noticed the tissue soaked with blood in his palm. "Do you want me to look at that? I mean, I know I didn't exactly just talk myself up, but I can most definitely manage stitches and a Band-Aid."
"Whose blood is all that?" Georgie wondered, pointing at the floor. She hadn't heard anything about Carol and was getting worried again.
"Holly," Denise replied. "One of those wolf people sliced her abdomen open. I tried to stop the bleeding and operate, but it was pointless. She was beyond saving. She just bled…a lot."
Georgie frowned again. She remembered something about Noah liking Holly or vice versa. It was almost bittersweet that the two of them were gone, and hopefully to a better place. If heaven existed, she hoped they were there with her daughter and everyone else they'd loved and lost.
"Michonne's right," Georgie commented. "You did more than any of us could've done. You gave her a fighting chance."
Denise caught Georgie's eyes and shrugged. "I'm sorry about Jake, by the way. I know he was your husband. He talked about you a lot, before any of you arrived here. I didn't know what he was really like, though. The things I heard he'd done before Alexandria, and what he did to you and then to Reg. I'm sorry."
Georgie looked over at Rick and then shrugged as well. "He stopped being my husband long ago," she sighed, turning her gaze down to her sore, scraped palms. "He's just the man who was the father of my kids that let this world change him for the worse."
"Like those wolf people," Denise muttered, setting her book down and grabbing the items she needed to clean and tend to Rick's cut. "I hope the ones that got away don't come back."
"They ain't getting in here," Rick remarked. He didn't go into why. He simply set his left arm on the island and waited for Denise to take care of his hand.
A half hour later, Rick had stitches in his palm, which had been lathered with ointment to assist in the healing process and a gauze bandage wrapped around his hand. Georgie's palms had been cleaned, and ointment and gauze bandages applied to her hands as well. Rick had fixed his shirt so he didn't look too disheveled anymore and the pair left the Infirmary together. Maggie and Michonne had already dispersed to head to the wall near the front gate where everyone else seemed to be gathering. Rick and Georgie had to take care of something that seemed a little more important to them at the moment.
Hand in hand they walked down the road to the main house, trying to ignored the large puddle of blood in the grass across the street of the house where Mrs. Neudermeyer lived. They'd learned she was one of the unlucky ones who had been brutally slain by a Wolf.
As they ascended the stairs to their house, Rick gave Georgie's hand a gentle squeeze. The door was closed and they paused just outside it for a moment before Rick turned the knob and pushed it open. He let Georgie in first, and she was immediately greeted by Tristan who had jumped up from the dining table where he was eating a bowl of something.
"Mommy!" he cried happily, throwing his arms around her waist.
Georgie responded by crouching down and hosting him up into her arms. She didn't care that how sore and tired her body was, or that he was nine years old. She was going to hold her son in her arms as tightly as she could as if he was a toddler. "Hi, honey," she replied, planting a series of kisses on his cheek and just reveling in his presence. "Are you doing okay?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Carl killed a bad gay. I watched him from the window upstairs. He shot him in the head."
Carl, who was sitting at the dining table as well with Judith in his lap, frowned sheepishly. Georgie could tell he was sorry her son had to see it, but she also knew it was just something that was hard to avoid these days. She knew he had witnessed so much worse, but within these walls she wished he didn't have to witness any more of it.
"Carl did a good thing," she assured, letting him slide down her. "He kept you and Judith safe. You know that, right?"
Tristan nodded again. "Just like Rick keeps you safe."
Rick smirked at that. "Well, I try my best."
Walking up to his son and daughter, he gestured for Carl to pass Judith to him. As soon as his little girl was in his arms, he held her close and closed his eyes happily for a moment at the way she rested her head down upon his chest in comfort. Georgie joined him and rubbed a hand down the girl's back and smiled when Judith lifted her head, turned toward her and reached her little chubby hand out.
Georgie knew what she wanted and gave it to her.
Wrapping her tiny hand around Georgie's index finger, Judith squeezed and then dropped her head back down against her father's chest while not releasing her grip. Rick and Georgie looked at each other and smirked.
They were lucky, indeed.
"Where's Carol?" Rick asked his son.
"She went upstairs to clean up, I think."
Rick nodded and looked from Carl back to Georgie with a nod of his head. Georgie ushered her own son to finish up eating whatever was in his bowl — one of Carol's casseroles, from the looks of it — and then she headed back outside onto the porch with Rick and Judith. All the while, Judith managed to not break her grasp on Georgie's finger.
Standing quietly together on the porch, they looked up the street, taking note of some damage to neighboring properties, the occasional blood splatter and the Alexandrians working alongside their people as well to cart away the dead to be buried in the community's little cemetery.
As they listened to the sounds around them, despite how thankful they were for their safety and their kids' safety and that none of their friends that remained inside the wall had been among the casualties, they weren't about to count their chickens before they hatched. There was still the threat outside the walls. They didn't even have to strain to hear it.
The herd was in fact surrounding them.
They could tell by the sound of banging on the metal panels and the snarling that accompanied.
Chewing the inside of his bottom lip, Rick turned and looked at Georgie, and she looked back.
"We'll get through this," he muttered. "We have to."
Georgie sighed, brushing her thumb over Judith's little knuckles. "I hope so."