The day after Negan left, all the Doveporters ate evening dinner in the cafeteria together per usual. There was an awkward silence as we stared down at our plates, but no one said anything. I had kissed Negan in front of every single one of them, and I think they were all trying to figure out what that meant for us as a community. I know I still was.

Amy was trying to make eye contact, but I ignored her blatant staring and focused on my soup. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to her. I just wasn't ready for that conversation. The conflict between Negan and I felt resolved, but I still felt like there was something left to be said.

But that had been one hell of a kiss…

I slight smile crept onto my lips as I picked up my bowl and brought it back to the kitchen. Sure, things had been intense between Derek and Negan, but maybe things would work out. Negan could continue to visit Doveport every week, and Greenbrier could provide their own supplies. After all, they lived inside of a huge shopping center. There had to be plenty of things they could give Negan. If we could make it work, so could they. And maybe with some persuasion, Negan could be convinced to let Doveport help Greenbrier.

An hour later, all of the Doveporters retired to their bedrooms to turn in for the night. I was in my own room, sitting up against my pillows and reading a novel. We didn't get many opportunities to relax in the apocalypse, and it felt good to curl up with a book. Once the sun set, it didn't make sense to go out into the dark with the walkers. Philip had always been adamant about that.

Occasionally, I would find it difficult to concentrate on the story, and my eyes would drift away from the page to the comforter on my bed. Memories of Caleb holding me down would resurface, and I'd close my eyes and try to block them out. Everything was a reminder of what happened; I'd always have the scars to prove it, but being in my bedroom was hard. I had stared up at the white ceiling and begged someone to save me, and someone had, but I couldn't look at the blank canvas without being transported back to that terrifying situation.

But Caleb was dead. Negan had saved my life, and I was lucky to be alive. I wasn't addicted to the pills. I wasn't hallucinating anymore. I needed to stop dwelling on the past and focus on the future.

With Negan…

What did a future with Negan even look like?

I didn't want to be one of his wives. The idea of sharing him didn't sit well with me, and I didn't want to leave Doveport. Still, I kept picturing the way his eyes traveled down my body and the feeling of his hands on my waist. Negan made me feel desirable—something I didn't think was possible in an apocalypse.

I was entertaining the idea of wearing one of his wives' tight, black dresses and the comments he would make to see me in it, when I heard a loud, booming noise.

My head shot up at the sound and I got out of bed quickly. Grabbing my gun and knife, I rushed out into the hall. The other Doveporters had heard it too and were gathering to see what was going on. Eric made his way down to the front doors and was looking out the windows.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, staring out the glass in shock. I briskly made my way over to see what happened and why he was so startled.

The metal gate was busted part-ways open and a truck had crashed into it. The gate was still intact, but it was hanging open at an odd angle. Eric was already opening the front doors and sprinting towards the gate. Ryan followed him out, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Amy and Vivienne were looking out the window with worried expressions.

"Stay here," I told them, while heading out the doors. "Go get weapons." I had no idea what was happening, but if this was an attack, we had to be ready to fight.

I ran across the yard to where the metal gate was swinging open and approached the truck. My heart sank and I froze in place at the sight of the familiar vehicle.

It was Negan's truck.

Eric and Ryan had stopped too and were staring at the crash in shock. I moved by them and past the broken gate to go to the driver-side door.

Negan was inside, and next to him was a Savior I recognized—Garrett—the Savior I had held hostage when he had pushed Vivienne on the ground for offering radishes. The airbags had inflated, and Negan's body and Garrett's were hunched forward. Both weren't moving.

Pulling myself up into the truck, I took out my knife and stabbed the airbags. As they deflated, I lifted Negan and leaned him backwards. Placing two fingers to his neck, I checked for a heartbeat. He was alive, but his pulse was faint.

I checked Garrett's pulse, only to discover he was dead; he had multiple gunshot wounds in his chest and was covered in blood. Looking back to where Negan was, I saw his upper torso was also soaked in blood and gasped. Eric was standing behind me, trying to look into the truck.

"He's been shot," I said, my voice quivering. It appeared to be a single bullet wound near Negan's right collarbone, but I couldn't be sure.

"We need to get him inside," Eric said, placing a hand on my shoulder as I stared down at Negan feeling helpless. There was so much blood, and my hands were coated in it from touching both men. I knew Eric was right—we needed to help him. Fast.

"Negan!" I said loudly, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to wake him. His head lolled to the side, but he remained unconscious. He wasn't going to wake up.

I reached over to his side to unlatch the seat belt he was wearing when I heard a loud growl come from right next to my head. I looked up to find Garrett had turned and was now staring at me with white, glossed-over eyes. He bared his teeth at me and slowly sat up in the seat.

I gasped and stood up so I was on Negan's other side as the walker reached towards Negan. It attempted to sit forward to bite him, but the seat belt was keeping it restrained. Garrett's jaw snapped and snarled as he fought to move. Quickly, I gripped the knife and brought it down into Garrett's head. His body slumped forward again—permanently dead.

Catching my breath and trying to calm myself, I simultaneously reached over Negan's lifeless body and unlatched the seat belt. His body fell forward, and I sheathed my knife, and then wrapped my arms around him to hold him up. Stepping down from the truck, I used all my strength to pull him out. I groaned as I struggled to move him out of the car seat, but eventually he slid out of the truck and towards the ground. I did my best to prop him up, hugging him close to me.

"Elle, let me," Ryan said, coming over to take Negan and hold him up by hooking his arms under Negan's armpits. Eric went to Negan's feet, and the two men worked together to pick him up. I stared down at Negan's unconscious form as they carried him towards the school. His face was covered in cuts from the crash, and he looked dead.

He's going to die.

We didn't have any doctors at Doveport, and I had no idea how to get to the Sanctuary. The only medical supplies we had came from first-aid kits and a poorly stocked nurse's office. I didn't know how we were going to help him, but we had to do something.

I was following Ryan and Eric towards the school when I heard another growl come from behind me. Whirling around, my eyes widened at the sight. A horde of walkers was headed towards the open, busted gate. My hand went to my knife, and my heart pounded in my ears.

There were at least ten of them.

The sound of the truck crashing into the gate had attracted them. Now every walker within earshot was on our doorstep and would be inside the walls within seconds.

Rushing over to the gate, I went to pull it closed, but it wouldn't budge. The truck was pinning it open, and even if I had been able to shut it, the metal latch was busted. The walkers were approaching fast, and I went to take out my gun, but stopped. A gunshot would only attract more, but I needed to hurry before they got into the school yard.

I moved outside the gate as quick as I could and came up to a thin, female walker that was reaching towards me. I stabbed through her stringy hair into her head, and she collapsed to the ground. A smaller sized walker—what had probably been a teenage boy—tried to grab my arm, but I moved fast and my knife slipped into the front of his face, causing his lifeless body to fall at my feet.

After killing five more walkers, I was completely out of breath and there were still too many of them. I made my way towards the outsider side of the wall in an attempt to lead them from the gate, and it worked. Instead of crossing the gate's threshold, they all followed me as I moved along the perimeter. As I backed up and watched the walkers in front of me, I didn't hear the one sneaking up from behind. It grabbed my shoulder and I jumped away fast before it could bite me. As a result, I stumbled, and fell hard onto my ass. My knife slipped out of my hand and landed a few feet away from me.

The closest walker dropped to the ground and started to crawl towards me. I scrambled backwards as it grabbed my ankle and opened its jaw to bite my leg. Reaching for my gun, I aimed as fast as I could and fired. The walker's head fell backwards as the bullet ripped through its face. The other dead had all moved on me, and I fired the gun as fast and accurate as possible, hitting each walker in the head.

Once they were truly dead, I retrieved my knife and got back to my feet. I heard more growls and looked up to see more walkers were coming towards the school. Whether it was the gunshots or the crash that attracted them didn't matter—I had to defend the school.

Rushing back towards the entrance, I noticed the truck door was still open. Hopping inside, I was grateful to see the keys were still in the ignition. Turing the key over to start the engine, I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see the walkers were advancing fast and would be on in me seconds. The engine revved, but wouldn't start up.

"Come on!" I pleaded with it and turned the key again. The engine fired up, giving me a short-lived sense of relief. I didn't waste any time to put the truck in reverse. The vehicle rolled backwards a few feet, giving me plenty of room to pull the gate closed. I turned the truck off and jumped out, looking to see that there was now another horde heading right for Doveport.

I rushed back into the school's walls and grabbed the gate. Sliding it closed, panic spread through me as it would not latch shut. The metal was bent at an odd angle, and the walkers were almost to the gate. My heart was pounding in my ears as I gripped my knife. I only had one option.

I hadn't even heard the sound of the school doors opening. Next thing I knew, the other Doveporters all came running out towards me, with the exception of Amy and Vivienne. My community joined me in front of the gate wielding an assortment of melee weapons, including knives, axes, tire irons and shovels. Eric came up to me and offered me a crowbar. I took it from him and he nodded towards me, gripping the machete in his hands tight.

We were ready to fight to protect our home.

"Hold them off a little while!" Ryan called, sprinting off towards the car parked inside Doveport. I didn't know what he had planned, but we didn't have another choice. We couldn't let them get in.

Moving outside of the broken gate, we all met the walkers head-on. Everyone charged forward and used whatever weapon they wielded to stab and hit the creatures. I swung as hard as I could into the head of every walker I came across. Their growls seemed to echo all around us, and the putrid stench of rotting flesh invaded my nostrils, but I ignored it and focused on killing the threat.

And even though we hadn't had to fight in a long time because of our protective wall, every single one of us were survivors. Doveport worked as a unit, communicating and moving around one another as if we had always been prepared for an event like this.

Within a few minutes, we were actually thinning the horde. I took a moment to glance next to me and see Eric stab a tall walker right through the back of the head as it advanced on another Doveporter. I took a few deep breaths, before approaching an oncoming walker and whacking it in the side of the head, sending it toppling to the grass.

Suddenly I heard a loud metallic sound. Spinning around to face the gate, I saw Ryan was holding a hammer and hurriedly banging against the bent metal piece. The toolbox Charlotte had given us was laying near the opening, and he was using it to patch the gate. The sound was loud, and the walkers continued to move towards us.

Knowing we needed to buy him some time, I faced the oncoming walkers with a new sense of determination. Lifting up my crowbar, I headed straight for a large, male walker that was stumbling towards me. With a swift hit to the side of his head, he fell to the ground. I stood over him and brought the crowbar down onto his face again and again, mashing it until he stopped moving.

Every Doveporter was fighting like their life depended on it. I could tell they were starting to slow down, but no one stopped swinging and hitting. The walkers would stumble at us only to be met with blunt force. I had been so hyper-focused that I hadn't even noticed Eric was giving out orders, telling people which walkers to take on and keeping our little line of defense safe. My head was pounding, but I continued to use my crowbar on the advancing walkers.

There were only a few walkers remaining when Ryan pulled the gate closed and tested it to make sure the latch worked. When it did, he threw it open and called to us.

"Everybody get inside!"

The other Doveporters fell back towards the gate, but I moved towards one of the last walkers. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead and my lungs were burning, but I didn't stop. There were only a few left, and I didn't want to leave a single one standing. Eric seemed to have the same idea, as he stayed with me to finish killing the rest.

I had been beating in the skull of one of the dead when Eric called out. I spun around to see he had fallen on the ground and a walker was on top of him. Sprinting as fast as I could, I went to grab the corpse off him when my hands broke through its decaying skin. Gripping through its puss-dripping skin, I pulled it away from Eric and threw it onto the ground. With one fatal blow, I hit its head, causing a yellowish fluid to spray everywhere.

I turned back to look down at Eric and my eyes scanned over him. He was okay—no bite marks or scratches. I couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh. We were both completely covered in the stinky, yellow goo, but he was alive. He glanced around to see that there were only bodies around us, and then he hung his head back and smiled.

I gasped for breath and leaned against the wall. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I watched to make sure there weren't any more walkers. My arms were sore and my heart was beating fast, but we had done it. No one was bitten, and the others were inside safe. I wouldn't have stood a chance fighting off the horde on my own, but Doveport had my back.

I walked over to where Eric was still sitting on the ground and offered him my hand. He took it and got up from the ground. We both stared at the piles of bodies around us and I couldn't speak for him, but I felt a funny sense of pride.

Ryan was waiting by the gate when Eric and I entered through it. He pulled it closed and latched the metal back in place, locking it.

"It's temporary," he explained. "I don't think it'll hold well if another horde shows up." I could see the piece he had banged back into place looked like it was ready to break. I nodded at him, relieved that we had killed all of the walkers instead of leaving a few of them. The other Doveporters were all standing before me, soaked in walker guts and sweat, but all very much alive. I smiled wide at them and they all smiled back.

Then my eyes trailed over to the school. My grin faded and my heart dropped.

Negan.

I fled towards the building and flew inside as fast as my tired legs could carry me. Rushing down the hall, I saw Amy was staring into a room—Phillip's old bedroom. I approached the door in a hurry and looked inside.

Negan was laying on the bed shirtless and Vivienne was leaning over him, pressing a cloth over his collarbone. I entered the room and walked up to the bed, staring down at him terrified. He was pale and his eyelids were still closed. Vivienne's expression was grim.

"Is he dead?" I asked, glancing up to look at Vivienne's face. She shook her head and gestured towards the first-aid kit while staring down at Negan.

"I got the bullet out and cleaned the wound, but he's still losing a lot of blood. I don't know what else to do." She finally looked up to meet my gaze. "He might turn, Elle."

I swallowed hard and stared down at Negan's unconscious body.

I couldn't let that happen.

I couldn't lose him.

"Amy, go get some duct tape," I ordered, not taking the time for pleasantries. She hurried off, and I moved to the other side of the bed. Taking the towel from Vivienne, I removed a thin piece of blood soaked gauze she had placed against his skin and stared down at the gushing wound. We didn't have supplies to stitch him up, so we'd have to make best with what we had.

Amy returned with the silver tape and handed it to me. I reached over to take a dry rag and used it to gently wipe away the gushing blood. Reaching into the first-aid kit, I took out a few pieces of clean gauze and carefully placed them over the wound. Then I pulled out a long strip of duct tape and used it to keep the gauze in place. I tore off a second strip and criss-crossed the two pieces. Once the gauze was completely covered, I pressed down with the palm of my hand, hard.

As I applied pressure, I felt my eyes start to water as I stared down at Negan. Vivienne had also cleaned up the blood on his face and bandaged the wound on his forehead. He looked so peaceful laying there, and I was almost grateful he was unconscious. He was going to be in a lot of pain when he woke up.

If he woke up.

I tried to shake the horrible thought and closed my eyes just as Amy came over to me. She placed a hand on my arm. I turned to face her and frowned. She didn't say anything, and rubbed my arm sympathetically. My former sense of relief vanished—Doveport was safe from the threat of walkers, but Negan was on death's door. Someone had shot him, and he had been behind the driver's seat. He had drove to the school because he knew he could trust me—that I would do everything I could to save his life.

Someone had shot him…

It should have been obvious, but I had been so focused on fighting off the dead, that I hadn't even had time to think. I stared into Amy's frightened eyes with fear of my own.

We both knew who had done this.

"Derek."