Chapter 3: The Broken, Beaten, and Damned

~Carol~

As soon as we see the Savior, we open fire. He ducks behind a car, the windows shattering. He throws something out, and when I see it's a grenade, I shout, "Down!"

It goes off, thick smoke filling the air. Walkers close to us growl, but we can't see them through the smoke. My ears ring from the explosion, and I push myself up, firing at a walker before it reaches me. I get to my feet, joining the others and firing at the dead. Ezekiel calls, "The damned are upon us!"

"Protect the King!" Jerry orders.

"Protect yourselves!" Ezekiel responds. When I run out of bullets in my gun, I use my knife instead. It seems like all at once, the smoke dissipates and the gunfire ceases, all of the walkers dead. I run forward, searching for the Savior.

I question, "Anyone see where he went? He saw us." No one responds. "If he tells them we're here, it's over before it's started."

"It is not!" Ezekiel declares, approaching. "And he won't. For we together will find him, end him, and fulfil the promise of what we have begun." Ezekiel cocks his gun. "Trust the King."

"Outpost is due north," Daniel informs us. "Through the woods."

"As that is surely his course, so shall it be ours. If our comrades had already arrived, they'd've been here." Ezekiel turns to one of his men. "Return to the staging area, gather the others when they land. If they haven't yet, release Shiva from her cage. Due north. We'll leave a trail for you. Ensure no enemies remain in these environments and be not ten minutes behind. Go."

"Now what?" Jerry questions.

"Onward!" Ezekiel bellows, Jerry whooping in affirmation. "To our foe! Then to his compound!" Ezekiel looks to me, smirking. "Then to certain victory."

"Alright," I say, cocking my gun. "As Clary would say, let's kick it in the ass."

~Jesus~

"Looks like they made themselves a moat," I say, observing the two fences caging in walkers, surrounding the satellite outpost. "Guess we shouldn't be surprised, considering."

"We can do this," Tara says, checking to make sure the clip in her gun is full. "We did it before."

"Yeah, that's what I was considering."

"I wasn't here before," Morgan says, then glances over his shoulder at Dianne. "We need a clear shot, right in the head."

"Just a few seconds," she confirms.

"So we need to time it right."

"If they see us, if they fire a gun," I warn, "we're not getting in."

"Don't let 'em fire a gun, Dianne," Morgan tells her. She nods, stepping closer to the fence. Andy steps closer to Morgan, asking, "You need us to cover you or something?"

"I do not," he replies.

"Hey, we're here to help. It shouldn't just be you."

"I don't die."

I glance back at Morgan before stepping closer to the fence. He makes his way to a clump of walkers, rattling the fence and drawing them to him. The Saviors take notice, but Dianne is faster. She sinks two arrows in their heads, and they drop without firing a shot.

We rush for the gate, leaving the walkers between the fences as we enter through the front door. I fall in step right behind Tara as she takes the lead, entering the satellite station. I react first when I see the Savior out of the corner of my eye, a silenced bullet making its way into his head. He drops, and we press on; but there's only one thing on my mind.

Clary, and how she nearly died the last time we were here. She's not here with us now, but I can only worry more, knowing she's off at another outpost in the middle of a firefight.

Two Saviors appear at the end of the hall, and Tara and I fire together, each killing one. We all pause, waiting for more. When none come, I turn to look at Morgan, nodding once. He snaps his fingers at Dianne to relay the message, and she whistles to signal that the others can enter. They file in, and Tara and I lead the way through the halls. Those stationed at the corners raise their hands, telling everyone else to get ready. We do this together, at once, so a Savior doesn't have a chance to raise an alarm like the last time.

I raise my first, then bring it down.

Those stationed at doors kick them open, firing on the Saviors within. Tara and I push into a supply room, a closed closet door inside. Tara and I both aim at it, and I give her the nod. I cover her as she kicks it open, bringing her gun up as it swings open to reveal a man on his knees, hands in the air. He exclaims, "Please don't shoot me! Please, don't shoot me, please!"

"Oh, look," Tara says smugly, taking note of the puddle below him. "You pissed your pants."

"I'm not one of them," he explains. I lower my gun, but Tara keeps hers raised on him. "My name's Dean."

"Why are you still talking?" Tara demands.

"Tara, wait," I order, stopping her as she takes a step towards him and putting myself between them after taking the gun laying on the floor next to him. "I'm just saying, wait."

"For what?"

"He has his hands up, Tara," I reply, as it's obvious he's surrendering.

"We have a job to do!"

She starts to take a step forward, and I take a step backwards, protecting him. There's gunfire from outside the room, and I tell her, "Go check that out."

Tara lowers her gun with a sigh, checking on the cause of the commotion as I aim my gun at the Savior, just in case he does try something. "Come out," I tell him, gesturing with my gun for him to get up.

Dean gets to his feet, slowly emerging from the closet. He keeps his back against the wall beside it, hands raised. He's a head taller than me, I note as I aim my gun at his chest. Tara opens the door, revealing most of the others. Dianne tells her, "We're on top of each other over here. We'll signal you when it's clear. Be ready."

Tara returns to the Savior and I, her gun aimed at his head. "I got it, Jesus," she says. "Step aside."

"Tara," I start.

"There's a firefight outside and we don't even know if Morgan's alive."

"Please, lady, I'm not one of them," Dean begs.

"You're here. You had a gun. You are one of them."

"I'm not! I'm not. You gotta believe me."

"Then what are you doing here?" I demand.

"I'm just a worker," he explains. "They brought me from the Sanctuary to cook, clean, you know, whatever. They did not give me a choice. They made me leave my wife and kids. Your people, you do this at the Sanctuary, too? The families okay?"

"We don't want to hurt the workers," I say, then look at Tara. "We're not going to."

"You believe him?" Tara questions.

"It's not about him. I'm not gonna shoot someone with their hands up and I'm not letting you."

"These medical supplies, they're the Hilltop's, right?" Tara questions, picking up a bottle. "Maggie's prenatals? They took them because they could. Because they don't give a shit, so why should we?"

"I know they killed your girlfriend," I say. "You loved her. This isn't you."

"It is now!"

"We're not here for revenge! It can't be about that!"

"It can!" Tara exclaims.

A stray bullet breaks the glass in the door, and in the moment I duck from it, Dean grabs my arm, pushing my gun away from his chest. He shoves me into the shelf of medical supplies, wrenching my gun from my hands and pulling me back against him. I try to fight back, but before I know it, my own gun is being pointed at my head and Tara's aiming her gun at the person using me as their shield.

~Aaron~

"Little Roy, you copy?" a female voice says from the walkie that Clary holds. "Little Roy, it's Mara. You copy?"

"Think they know?" Eric questions.

"Todd?" the Savior questions, and a male voice answers that he's there. "Lock the stairwell. Every floor."

"They know we're coming," Clary says. "Too late. We're already here."

Our people fire at the Saviors as we pull into the courtyard of the office outpost, the Saviors scrambling for cover. We all climb out, taking cover behind our armored cars. The Saviors return fire, but we have the upper hand. "Spread out!" Francine shouts. "Watch for breaches! We keep 'em locked in, they got bigger problems than us!"

We spread out, shooting to kill. I glance behind me when I hear a lack of gunfire, relieved to see that it's just Eric taking cover for a moment. I turn back to the fight, and one by one, the Saviors fall. Scott turns to Clary and I, calling, "We got some coming up on my right!"

He looks to me for orders, but I turn to Clary beside me. I look to Clary, awaiting my daughter's orders. I've told her that I'd follow her anywhere, and now, she's leading. Clary, when she realizes that I'm looking at her, barks, "Take over! You got this!"

"Stay on 'em!" I shout, turning to Scott. "Don't let 'em through! We pin them in, it takes care of itself, that's the plan!"

Scott returns fire, Francine moving to join them. "Tobin! Move in!" I shout.

"I need backup!" Eric shouts. "Cover me!"

"No! Let Tobin go!"

"There's no time!"

"Fuck," Clary hisses, taking off to cover Eric. He runs for the right flank, Clary following him until he reaches cover on the right flank. Clary lets outs a cry and drops behind a car, bullets striking the metal behind where she was standing. My heart stops, not knowing if she's dead or alive. I shout, "Clary!"

~Jesus~

"I wouldn't," Dean advises. I flinch, feeling his hot breath on my ear. I struggle against him, but there isn't much I can do with a gun to my temple. "You know what's funny? Normally, I'd peg you as the softie, not pretty boy. Do you know how hard it is to piss yourself on purpose? It's like your dick knows you're wearing pants." Dean stomps on the bottle of prenatals, crushing them beneath his boot. "Oh, look at that. Well, that shit is ruined. Looks like that dumb bitch Maggie and her kid are just gonna die anyway. Just like you two."

"I'm gonna kill you," Tara growls.

"Aw, honey."

"Or someone else will," she continues. "There's too many of us."

"That's where we differ. If I take the two of you with me, then I've got one hell of an insurance policy. So why don't you put that thing down? Unless you're gonna shoot through this beautiful man here." Tara doesn't move. "I'm not gonna ask you again."

"I think she's gonna shoot you," I say.

"I am," Tara confirms.

"Yeah, she is."

"Shut up!" Dean snaps.

"Tara," I say.

"Do it," she says.

"Tara, he has a gun to my head."

She shakes her head. "Not for long."

"Wait, wait," Dean says. "Wait a minute."

"Go to hell!"

"Okay, so you really wanna risk it, huh? Me for him? I can tell you right now that I am not worth it. We can work this out. I may talk a big game, like I'm a tough guy, but I'm not. I really just want—"

Dean cuts himself off, taking the gun off of my head to aim at Tara. She ducks out of the way as I push his arm up, the gun firing into the ceiling. I elbow him in the gut, taking my gun back. I duck under his arm, kicking him in the back of the knee and sending him to the ground. I aim my gun down at him, and Dean pushes himself up, looking up at me.

He says, "You're not gonna do it. It's not you."

"It's not about revenge, it's about getting it done," Tara says.

I know that Clary wouldn't hesitate to shoot him, especially after he put a gun to my head. But I'm not Clary. I can't just kill people, not when there's a chance for something else. I turn my gun, smacking him in the head with the grip and knocking him out. I take a rope, tying him up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tara demands. "He tried to kill us!"

"I told you, it's not about him."

"So he gets to live? What about Abraham, Glenn, Denise?"

"This is different."

"You're not Rick. You're not Maggie. You're not Clary."

"No, but I'm Clary's second," I reply. "And Maggie? She'll hear what I have to say."

Over a radio, we hear a call for evac. Dianne calls, "Jesus! Tara!" We open the door, rushing across the hall as Dianne tells us, "They're falling back. Is there another way out of here?"

"Yeah," I answer, taking off for the other exit. "Follow my lead."

They follow behind me, outside the front door and around the building to the other exit. I order, "Circle the door. Wide, at least twenty feet. Guns up, but hold your fire."

"What?" Tara exclaims.

"They're gonna give up. We only fire if they fire first."

"If they fire first," Dianne says, glancing over at me. "One of us dies."

"Then let's hope, for my sake, that they don't." I look over at Tara, who clearly doesn't agree with my decision and is giving me a nasty side-eye. "You can try to stop me."

The door rolls open, a single Savior with a handgun there. As soon as he sees us, he aims, but doesn't fire. I bark, "Drop your weapon!" He pauses. "Drop your weapon and surrender."

He lowers his gun, putting it on the ground. He looks up at us as he straightens, saying, "Living sounds good to me." To the other Saviors within the halls, he calls, "We're surrounded!" The Saviors emerge, weapons raised. He shakes his head, telling them, "Don't be as dumb as they think we are. Put your guns down."

The Saviors don't drop their weapons at first. "It's okay," Tara says. "We can do it the hard way. Because even if Maggie listens to you, Rick will listen to me."

"You know who Rick will listen to first?" I return, not giving Tara time to answer. "Clary, and she will listen to me." The Saviors lower their weapons, and the blond that opened the door steps forward, his hands raised. "We're doing it my way."

~Clary~

I remove my arms from over my head, pushing myself up from where I hit the ground when I saw the Saviors aiming at me. I return fire, looking for Aaron at the same time. As soon as he sees me, he takes off for where I am, trusting me to provide cover fire until he reaches the car I'm hiding behind. Aaron lowers his gun as he looks me over, demanding, "You okay?!"

"Easy, Dad," I reply. "I'm good. I told you, it ain't gonna be that easy to get rid of me."

We both duck down as bullets ricochet off the car next to us, and Aaron spins on his heel, returning fire. "It's starting," Aaron tells me.

I take a look over the car, spotting one of the men that I shot and killed on his feet. His eyes are glazed over, his head tilted and drooping. He stumbles towards the living, shuffling his feet. Even though I can't hear it over the gunfire, I know a low growl emerges from his mouth. The undead man stumbles towards one of the living that he was once allied with, dragging her to the ground as he feasts on her flesh.

To my companions, I yell, "It's starting! They're turning! We're almost through!"

And now's when it's all gonna go to hell.

I hear Eric yell, "Francine!"

I turn in the direction that Eric's voice came from, only to find him pushing forward and firing on the Saviors, Francine lying dead on the ground. Eric ducks behind a truck, and I shout, "Eric! Don't you dare! Fall back!"

"Clary!" Aaron shouts. "C'mon!"

I fire at a Savior moving towards Eric, and he drops back, taking cover from my shots. Aaron throws his gun in the backseat of a car. "Get in, go!" Aaron orders.

I scramble in, Aaron climbing in the driver's seat. He starts the ignition, throwing the car into reverse and backing into the Saviors converging on Eric's location. I look over at him and deadpan, "I'm glad you never taught me to drive, Pops."

"Not the time, Cheyenne," Aaron scolds as the body of one of the Saviors cracks the windshield. He lets the car run, the two of us scrambling out. Eric provides cover, mowing down the remaining Savior as we run to meet him. He presses his back against the truck he's taking cover behind, eyes closed for a moment. Aaron grabs onto his jacket, fretting, "You okay? You okay?"

"I'm fine," Eric says, taking a second to breathe. Aaron checks the area around us, making sure there's no approaching Saviors, while I check Eric. "Our people, they need—"

"No," I whisper, my heart stopping.

The second I see the blood on Eric's stomach, I break. My hands go to his stomach, and tears come to my eyes as I beg, "Please, no, please, don't let this be real! Please, Dad, please!"

"Eric, Eric, no!" Aaron exclaims. "No! No, no, no, no!"

"Dad, we gotta go!" I rush. "We gotta get outta here!"

Aaron takes one side, and I take Eric's other, keeping my hands pressed to his stomach as we leave the battle behind.

~Rick~

Dwight said that the guns were here, at this outpost. He was wrong, or he lied. Daryl and I searched every floor, every nook and cranny. I killed a man that was just trying to protect his infant daughter, a man that I never would've killed had I known, but we'll take care of her now. I enter one room on the top floor, looking around.

A light sits on an end table, illuminating the room. A fishing net hangs from one wall, poles leaning against the wall beside it. I make my way over to the end table after making sure there's no one in the room with me.

I look down at a picture below me, immediately recognizing the family. A family I haven't seen in years, a family that I last saw when they split off for Birmingham and us to the CDC.

He's here.

"Dammit," I sigh.

Morales.

"Keep your hands down," Morales orders. I watch him approach out of the corner of my eye, gun raised on me. "Turn around slow."

I do just as he says, staring at him in shock. He's really here, after all this time. And he's with them.

Morales's eyes flick over me, clearly recognizing me. He says, "Hi, Rick."

"Your name," I say, "is Morales. You were in Atlanta."

"That was a long time ago," he replies, reaching for the walkie on his belt with one hand. "It's over now, Rick. I called the Saviors back. And they're coming."