They were panting.

Their labored breathing matched their physical ability to jump over logs, rocks and even fallen trees. They weren't even checking for walkers along the way. They had to get back to camp – fast!

Andrea heard their careless noise and immediately grew concerned. Michonne rarely looked this…scared. And John's eyes couldn't have been wider.

"What's wrong?!" Andrea nearly screamed.

Within seconds, Michonne and John reached the camp…and ran right past Andrea! With furious speed, they began gathering up their belongings. John made sure everything was secure while Michonne checked if anything was left in the shed.

Andrea couldn't take it anymore.

"What the hell happ-?!"

"We've gotta go." John hastily interrupted.

"Now!" Michonne loudly whispered, returning from the shed.

"What's going-?"

"Not now." Michonne said. "Let's go!"

Totally baffled, Andrea obeyed. She learned a long time ago to completely trust Michonne. And she rarely saw her friend this…nervous! No, not nervous. Michonne Anthony was scared. And when Andrea looked at John Swiper, all she saw was raw fear.

Now, Andrea was scared.

Within seconds, they were on their feet and headed east. They stayed close to State Highway 24 but were not on it. After a few minutes of near running, they eventually slowed to fast walking. John often had to come to a complete stop – his long legs would get ahead of the girls and he needed them.

"He'll send patrols." John said to Michonne. "They'll be on foot. We have to keep moving."

"Will one of you-?"

"The fucking Governor." Michonne responded.

"W-what?!" Andrea screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, Andrea!" Michonne and John said. Stunned that they had the same thought and exclamation, they turned back to the weeds in front of them, at least fifty yards away from the highway. John anxiously looked around them, spinning on his heels from time to time.

Suddenly, a walker emerged from a nearby tree, bounding for Michonne. But when she reached for her katana, the walker had already grabbed her, knocking her to the ground!

"Mich-!" somebody screamed.

But it didn't matter. A knife invaded the back of its skull and the walker fell to the side. Michonne looked up only to see John, his filet knife dripping with blood. He shook it, to get the blood off, and offered his other hand to her. Wide-eyed, she took the hand and propped herself up. And when John tried to release his grip, he found Michonne wasn't letting go. He turned around, only to see a slightly embarrassed look on her face. Finally, she let go.

"Th-thank you, Jo-John."

"Anytime." He replied. "And I do mean that. Any. Time."

As they deftly moved through the forest, Andrea got the whole story from John. While she heard the devastating story, her facial expressions changed from shock to horror to anger and back to shock. When John finished telling her what they saw, he and Michonne found themselves suddenly trying to keep up with Andrea!

"We've," Andrea began between pants, "gotta get out of here!"

"You don't," John said, grabbing Andrea's arm and forcing her to come to a complete stop. Behind him, Michonne did the same. "have to tell me twice. But we've got to be smart about this." John wildly looked around and then returned his intense stare to Andrea. "But he's hunting. And he'll keep hunting. And we're the prey. So, we've got-"

"We," Andrea angrily interrupted, "would've had more information if you hadn't killed Merle!"

Everything came to a standstill after that. Michonne watched her friend furiously stare at John. The forest was eerily silent – not even a bird was chirping. John shifted his weight as he too angrily stared back at her.

"In case you've forgotten," John nastily whispered, "that man…Merle, was his name?...whatever. In case you've forgotten, he had you and your friend tied up. That's not normal. That's not what should've happened! That's not what the Governor-"

John stopped talking. Andrea's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

Suddenly, John turned on his heel and high-stepped away from her!

"Now," Andrea all but yelled, trying to keep up, "wait just a goddamned minute!"

But John didn't slow down. Andrea tried her best to keep up with his long legs and Michonne actually sprinted towards them like a hunter – head down, one hand on katana.

"John!" Andrea yelled.

John came to a stop. "Shut up, Andrea!"

The girls caught up to him.

"Just what did you-?" Andrea began, but John took off again!

Infuriated, Andrea picked up her pace, closely followed by Michonne.

It was almost comical to see the trio in action. John fastwalking and taking the lead, while Andrea angrily tried to talk and keep up. Michonne simply watched everything unfold before her eyes, basically running, watching, and listening….

An hour passed. Maybe two. They were moving fast under the Georgia sun, passing this field or that street. They only slowed when confronted with hilly terrain and a walker or two were easily dispatched by the girls before John could. As the hot, sunny hours passed, they slowed down for two major reasons – dehydration and hunger.

Suddenly, John came to a full stop, just outside a clearing in the woods. Michonne quickly realized that John was leading them…somewhere. With narrowed eyes, she approached him.

"Where are you taking us?" she accusatorily asked.

"East." John simply said.

"East, huh?"

John glared at her. "Yeah. East." And then, he took a challenging step towards her. "Got a problem with tha-?"

"I don't have a problem."

What had been a fast and relatively peaceful jaunt through the woods suddenly turned into hostility. Andrea rolled her eyes at the pissing contest before her.

"We're all," Andrea peacefully began, "tired and thirsty and hungry. Let's all just…" she put her arms up in a meek surrender, "calm down and eat."

Michonne and John continued the little staring contest for several more seconds before a fed-up Andrea squeezed between them, facing east.

"Please." Andrea insisted.

Finally, finally, the battling duo separated and began setting up a mini-camp for lunch. Easy-peasy, Japanesy, Andrea thought.

All three got to work – John grabbed some cans of food, Andrea assembled three water bottles, and Michonne inspected her sword.

"I'm off to hunt." Michonne simply said.

"But," John argued, "we have plenty of canned-"

"I'm off to hunt."

And with that, Michonne turned about face and left. Bewildered, John turned to a now Indian-style seated Andrea, looking for answers.

"She does that." Andrea simply said.

John shrugged and walked over to her, also sitting Indian-style right beside her. The clearing was only partially shaded from the Georgia sun and they were both hot anyway. Andrea fiddled with her hairband just as a can of refried beans was placed in front of her. She looked over at what John had for himself and almost instantly, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Pumpkin pie filling?" she asked.

"Well…" John turned the can around a couple of times, "it's nutritious."

Andrea stifled a chuckle as John turned to her and smiled. She noticed how white his teeth were despite the fact that he probably hadn't brushed them in several days. Perhaps longer. She smiled back, noticing that his eyes drifted away as well. A slight feeling of tension could be felt in the air and they both just started eating. After a few bites were ingested, Andrea turned to him.

"You know," Andrea began as she scooped another bite on her spork, "I'm not going to let up on my questions…from before."

John came to a grinding halt. And then, he purposefully scooped up some pie filling on his spork. "I know…"

A few more bites of the salt-challenged food were swallowed before they simultaneously reached for their water bottles. The surprising, uncanny move by both of them caught them off guard and silly, little, embarrassed laughs bubbled out of their mouths. They smiled at each other as the Georgia sun bellowed all around them. They set their water bottles down and resumed eating lunch.

They ate in silence. It was strange in this harsh, new world to be in the woods and be surrounded by silence. Rarely were birds even heard. As animals succumbed their lives to the walkers, fresh kill was just then starting to become more difficult to find. Regardless, the trio were often successful finding canned foods, fresh berries and mushrooms, and even tree bark and moss. But that didn't mean their bellies were consistently full.

After a few minutes, John and Andrea finished their meals. Again, they simultaneously finished. And then, John boyishly smiled at Andrea, his empty can in his hand. Andrea did the same. And together, they threw their cans into the woods at the same time. Humor was scarce in this new, scary world and simple actions like throwing empty cans into the woods at the same time, once considered trivial, were then funny.

They laughed. Smiles adorned their faces as they eventually calmed back down, staring into each other's eyes. Brown eyes met blue eyes for a long moment until it got kind of awkward. Andrea was the first to look away, while John continued to stare at her. He loved the way her dirty blouse hung on her lithe body and Andrea secretly loved his confidence.

"John?"

He brushed some dirt from his pants needlessly. "Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

The question halted him briefly until he assuredly answered, "East."

"I know that. But…"

"Andrea," John began, hopping on the ground and facing her, "we've had this conversation before. We're just…" John glanced to the right and then back to her, "heading East. That was your original plan, wasn't it?"

"Y-yeah…"

He leaned towards her a little before softly asking, "What's wrong?"

Andrea found a twig and played with it. "It just seems…Michonne's right."

"About what?"

"Heading East."

"Like I said, that was your original-"

"Not like that." Andrea looked over at him, stunned at how close John was to her, "I mean, it seems like you're taking us…somewhere."

John sat up straight, eyeing her directly. "Just East. I have no specific destination in mind." And then, his voice softens. "And besides, your idea isn't bad. The chances of finding safety would be on an island, where walkers can't get to."

Andrea nodded, breaking her twig in half. She casually threw one piece away, playing with the smaller part. John watched her, knowing she was still a little suspicious. He loved her delicate fingers, dirty and a little bloody, twirling the little, unoffending twig. Suddenly, she looked over at him, seeing where his eyes were.

"What?" Andrea asked, her fingers coming to a full stop.

Embarrassed, John looked down. But Andrea huffed in frustration!

"There you go again!" she all but yelled.

He looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you tell us a terrible story about the Governor and Woodbury and then you clam up! How in the good, goddamn hell are we supposed to believe or even trust you?!"

"I am," John dangerously began, leaning towards her, "telling the truth!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really!"

"Well, how about earning it?"

John looked confused and leaned closer. "H-how? And why should I?! I've been helping you and Michonne since we met! What else do you-?"

"Why did you really kill Merle?"

Everything stopped. John's frustrated and angry eyes flashed in front of hers and nothing was said. Andrea leaned closer to him and huffed again.

"See?" Andrea whispered. "That's what I mean. You killed Merle. You killed him!" She got more and more intense. "You waltz into my life with all of that cocky confidence and swagger and kill the one person, the one person, who could've helped us! You killed him! And then you bring up something about 'what was supposed to happen' and you seem to know more about the Governor than you're letting on! We're walking on what looks like a path towards the East and you say, 'oh I'm just heading East', like we're supposed to believe that! You better start talking Mr. John Swiper because I don't know how much more of this I can fucking take!"

Andrea was panting, inches from John's wide-eyed face. And then, it happened.

John kissed Andrea. He firmly clasped both sides of her face, planting a hard kiss to her lips. Stunned, Andrea sat rooted to the spot for a long moment before she found her arms going around his neck! The kiss shifted and went on for what felt like hours, adding to the heat between them under the Georgia sun.

Suddenly, the gravity of what they were doing hit them. Andrea was the first to pull back, pushing at John's chest. And then, he finally released her. They bolted upright and sat staring straight ahead.

It couldn't have been a better time for Michonne to return. Unfortunately, she didn't come back from her unsuccessful hunting trip until later. Much later. And as the sun shifted in the sky, indicating the passage of time, she eventually arrived. And when she did, she saw the two of them sitting Indian-style, staring East, both wide-eyed and silent. She eyed them carefully, as she was prone to do lately. With all of the shocking, recent events plaguing everyone's minds, and trying to survive in this harsh world as prey, it was no wonder her companions were a little…stunned or something.

Shrugging, Michonne sat and ate pumpkin pie filling.

.

Dusk. Ordinarily, this would've been the time for the girls to setup a campfire, prepare and eat dinner, talk, sometimes reminisce (but that could be dangerous), and bond before drifting off to sleep. But not that day. All three had been on the run and they were surprised they didn't fall asleep on their feet, when they agreed to stop for the day.

Panting and wobbling, John and Andrea fell to their knees on the forest floor. Michonne too, swayed a little, letting Her Girl fall off her back. It was a good thing there were no walkers around.

But Michonne had enough wherewithal to unpack the bedding for her and Andrea, tossing the blonde hers. John would just have to make due without, just like the previous night.

There was just enough natural sunlight left to see their exasperated, baggy eyes and dirty faces. Andrea missed the evenings when she could wash her makeup off, after a hard day's work at her law office. She quickly dismissed that thought.

John too longed for the time when he could unwind with his wife and son-

He, too, quickly shook that thought away.

Only Michonne seemed to just get down to business. "I'm too tired to even eat."

"Me too." John and Andrea chorused. They briefly looked at each other, but did not smile. And just as quickly, they looked away. Michonne was too exhausted to notice the vague feeling of…something. Something akin to…whatever. She just flopped on her makeshift bed and stared at the sky.

Meanwhile, Andrea struggled to get comfortable, annoyed with some twigs under her bedding. Eventually, she brushed them aside and was able to relax as she, too, stared up at the night sky.

John grumbled. In Andrea's peripheral vision, she could see John trying to get comfortable, hijacking a rotted log as a pillow. When he finally got as cozy as he could get, he determinedly flipped on his left side, away from the girls. But then another groan escaped his mouth as something irritated him again and, with a little snarl, he flopped on his other side, facing Andrea.

They forced their eyes not to meet.

And barely another minute passed before deep, steady breathing from three human survivors filled their immediate area.

Some time passed. Insects chirped and lightning bugs lighted. Their sweaty and dirty bodies could've used a comforting, cooling breeze, but one or a dozen weren't available that Georgia night. And the absolute best sound that evening was the absence of walker moans.

Andrea didn't even feel John's arm casually go around her sleeping form. John didn't even realize he did it. And the two of them were none to the wiser for it either.

But Michonne did. By that point, she had turned on her side, facing Andrea. Months of companionship taught her to always keep an eye on her friend, since danger could easily erupt around them. What was that, that Andrea once said? – A good soldier never leaves her post.

Michonne scooted just a hair closer to Andrea and put her arm around her friend's waist. And barely a second went by before John's eyes opened. And when they did, he was greeted with most hostile, protective glare he'd ever seen.

.