AUTHOR'S NOTE - So Josh McDermitt (Eugene) had to delete all of his social media accounts because he was receiving death threats for what his current character arc is on the show. This is why we can't have nice things. It makes me so sad because you will never meet a better person than he is! He's nice, funny, and incredibly smart. My readers already know this because they are fantastic but pass on the message that the people we see on screen are people too. I hope he returns and that it hasn't affected him in the long run.

Chapter 8

Tobin rode along the desolated highway with his horse as he hummed a little tune to himself in a cheerful manner. Creedence Clearwater Revival was a band from his childhood of which he craved to hear once more. He supposed that simply playing their song in his memory was a better alternative than moping about an item long lost.

Heath was beside him as he travelled with his own horse while already tuning out Tobin's ever-present upbeat attitude. The younger man eyed his surroundings with a somber disposition. Tobin glanced towards Heath's prosthetic leg with slight condolence. Heath's spirit had been tarnished since the grenade attack. As much as Tobin tried to sympathize, there was nothing much that he personally had to be upset about.

The night was peaceful and without anything worth panicking over. In his personal life, he had someone close to keep him company with a home to spend his days. The apocalypse was merely a backdrop as everything else seemed satisfactory. As much as he could cry for the things that he had lost, there were so many more things that he gained. The treasures that consisted of his life were something to be enjoyed and he intended to do just that.

As the road inclined to reach the top of the hill, Tobin would admire the dark sky that overlooked the valley below. The stars lit up the world around him with ease as it blanketed the earth that he occupied. It was in the moments that he looked up at the universe where the infection seemed inconsequential in the scheme of things. Life continued.

"So much beauty in our new world," Tobin muttered to himself but heard Heath scoff behind him. He paid him no mind. Tobin was glad that his life hit a content groove so he could see the beauty and stand in awe at it for a while.

Despite it being a winter month, Tobin was astounded at how warm the air felt. He was more stunned when walkers didn't make an appearance as the weather began to heat up. In other years, walkers always emerged from their hiding places as if awakening from hibernation. When the walkers were a no-show, a hope ignited within Tobin that perhaps the undead finally decomposed enough where they would no longer become a threat.

Being pulled from his thoughts, Tobin glanced over to Heath to see the man still looking around with skepticism. They had a job to keep the roads clear and protect all communities from a walker herd. However, it was a quiet night and trouble seemed far away. Plus, Tobin felt Heath needed some cheering up as well as a distraction then pointed up to the stars. "Quiz me," he said delightedly.

Heath sighed but gave a smile. "Not this again. We've done this a hundred times and I know you know all the constellations."

"Repetition is the best form of learning," Tobin argued.

He saw Heath roll his eyes in the darkness but looked up to the sky to humor him on another long night shift. "Alright. Um...find the Lynx."

Tobin stared up but easily pointed the Lynx out as he traced the shape with his index finger. "Just above the giraffe." He glanced towards Heath with consideration. "Want to take a whack at it?"

"No thanks," Heath said with a smile. He started to say something but became distracted by something the lit up the night sky in red. Tobin could see a red light shoot up into the sky from the reflection of Heath's glasses then turned to see the same line of red crawl upwards while fading like the firework it was.

The sense of peace which Tobin had felt before diminished as the need for action took its place. In their position at the top of the hill, both Heath and Tobin had overlooked the valley both night and day. As they recognized constellations in their boredom, they also knew where communities were upon necessity.

"That was from Sanctuary," Heath uttered as some fear crept into his voice. "What do you think that was about?"

"Can't imagine anything good," Tobin replied as a growing anxiety was building within him. "They wouldn't draw attention to themselves unless it was the only thing they could do."

They waited for ten seconds as if mentally deliberating what they should do but as time moved on, Tobin knew there was only one thing to do. Gunshots could be heard as soft as a whisper in the distance which only solidified Tobin's growing concern.

"That was an emergency flare," Tobin settled as he turned his horse around, "Let's check with Alexandria to see if they heard anything from the radio."

With that they both prodded their horses to ride at full speed towards their home. If Sanctuary was in danger, Alexandria would always vow to be the first one to respond.

...

Sherry finally got the right transmission through and held the microphone to her mouth. "S.O.S. call! I need someone to answer this message right now!"

She released the button to speak so the other signal could come through. Waiting for ten seconds, she pushed the button again. "This is Sanctuary to Alexandria, we need help and are being attacked!"

Roars and bellows erupted outside as she could hear gunfire as close as the window beside her. On instinct, she crouched down at the same time that the exact window shattered from bullets. Briefly, she glanced towards the radio that appeared exposed and out in the open. If someone were to purposefully attack the house with intent of taking out their radio, it would be an easy task. Not a single part of her felt that any luck was on their side.

Just then, the door burst open as a man barged in with a terrorizing stance as she could see the crazed look on his face from thirty feet away. A rifle in one hand and a knife in the other, Sherry grabbed her pistol from her holster and carefully studied him from behind the desk. His aggressive stance made her point her weapon at him without second guessing if he was on their side or not. From the way he carried himself, she could tell he obviously entered the home with malcontent.

Stepping towards the desk slowly, he tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the house before he spotted what he was searching for. Sherry could tell he was staring at the radio and instantly posed to attack the second he raised his rifle towards it. With no time to think, she sprung up from her hiding space, aimed her gun, and fired.

Muted screams could be heard from the basement as the popping noise from the gun seemed amplified in the small space. Her bullet struck him squarely in the heart and straight through to the other side as the exit wound sent blood spattering the door behind him. He opened his mouth to let out a cry but no sound followed other than him falling on his side to the floor in a heap.

Sherry wasn't about to have him suffer for the short amount of time that he had left and shot him again just beside his temple. Cries could be heard once more from the concealed children in response to the terrifying noises above. As much as she wanted to comfort them and let them know everything was going to be okay, she had a more important job to do.

"Sherry?"

Holstering her gun, she took a deep breath before looking at the radio to hear the call from Alexandria went through. "Sherry?" The voice repeated.

Recognizing Daryl's gruff and low voice, she reached for the speaker while remaining low as the gunfire persisted outside. Sherry stayed quiet while trying to hear if more imminent danger was on its way.

"Fucking assholes!" She heard Miguel shout, "Fucking traitors!"

"Sherry!" Daryl practically yelled through the intercom, "Goddammit, pick up!"

She finally brought the speaker to her mouth and pressed the button to speak. "Daryl! Sanctuary is being attacked from the outside and inside. We need help now!"

"Herd or Saviors?" Daryl questioned but Sherry could hear his voice raise with more alarm.

Her eyes flickered at the dead man who was several feet away. "Both," Sherry revealed, "Daryl, they cut off power from us. We are running on a generator but if you could please tell the other communities that we need their help…"

"Got it," Daryl interrupted as the line went blank before static took it's place. She already knew Daryl was on the job and that they would be on their way within an hour's time. She just didn't know if that hour would be too late.

Satisfied that her job was complete, she put the speaker down and let out a deep breath before springing into action once more. As she ran outside Sherry knew there were several facts that could help her stay sharp throughout the night. One, the exiled Saviors were receiving help from the inside to exterminate all people loyal to the other communities. Two, their help from the outside were the undead. It seemed to Sherry that it was an all-or-nothing predicament for both parties involved. The exiled Saviors wanted their opponents to die while the people of Sanctuary simply needed to fight in order to live. There was no gray area that Sherry could see. The exiled Saviors would stop at nothing to complete their task. In order to protect the people within the house, she could show no mercy.

Stepping slowly and carefully out of the house, she saw Miguel beside the generator talking amongst several allies behind a bush. When they saw her, they raised their weapons but quickly lowered them upon seeing who it was and waved at her to join them in their covert state.

"I can't stay long," Sherry whispered, "Someone has to keep an eye on the house."

"The message," Miguel started, "Did you send out the message that we need help?"

Sherry nodded, "Alexandria will be here as soon as they can and are also calling the other communities for extra support."

Miguel appreciated her answer and eyed the mess around them. "We'll have several men to help protect the house alongside you," he deliberated.

"We might be the only few that are left," Sherry stressed, "Dwight will need help fighting the threat at the front gates. I can cover the house all by myself."

Miguel seemed overwhelmed as others in their group began to raise their weapons upon seeing sketchy people arrive nearby the generator. Still obscured by a bush, they waited for the opportune moment to open fire.

"Now," Sherry whispered as they all shot at individual men with ease. Standing up and out of their hiding place, Sherry kept an eye on the far distance to see their people arrive on the scene with Saviors chasing behind them. A Savior had his sights on Peter as Sherry quickly aimed and shot before he had a chance to make another child fatherless. Peter turned around to see the guy had been shot and already presumed dead but ran the rest of the way to the generator at the same time Miguel shut it off.

"This is a massacre," Peter shouted over the commotion in his Scottish accent, "At this rate, we'll all be dead in minutes."

"The other communities are coming," Miguel said calmly, "We are not alone in this."

"There will be nothing to save by the time they get here," Peter said reasonably.

"No, we just have to outsmart the people killing us on the inside and stay covert for the ones shooting us from beyond the walls," Sherry argued, "We just all stay low and hidden until they leave before their next plan arises."

"Their next plan?" Miguel asked.

"They brought the walkers for a reason," Sherry made evident, "The ones inside will leave well before we face the walkers so they don't perform a suicide mission."

Considering Sherry's prediction for battle tactics, Miguel nodded his head knowing the idea was more than plausible.

"We're surrounded and perhaps outnumbered but we'll make do," Sherry responded back calmly, "Take whatever men you need with you. I can protect the house myself."

"I know you are capable but Dwight would kill me if I left you alone, Sherry," Miguel stressed, "No chance in hell am I going to do that."

"I can stay behind," a man beside them piped up amidst the confusion. Sherry remembered his name being Ian. Miguel seemed skeptical but Sherry waved him off hastily.

"See?" Sherry encouraged to ease Miguel's mind, "I have help. Now you can do what you have to do."

Miguel gave Ian the side eye with a dangerous look. "She dies and you're a fucking dead man."

Ian nodded with stoicism as Miguel wasted no further time and left the scene. The rest of the men, including Peter, followed dutifully to the front lines.

"What's the plan, boss?" Ian asked with his voice low.

Sherry stepped back from him at the sound of his tone and studied him for a long period before she responded. It was his voice that changed from when he spoke to Miguel versus when he spoke to her. Something about that small difference made Sherry second guess the help that she received. Beyond that, he didn't do anything suspicious. Yet, she was unsure if she could trust him.

"Make sure no one gets into that house if they aren't supposed to," Sherry instructed coldly. His body language was reading too eager for someone that should have been just as scared as she was. Wondering if she was reading more into than she should, Ian still seemed off to her.

"Roger that," Ian answered as they both ran towards the front porch to stand guard.

…

Dwight had an entire box of ammunition beside him as he tried to aim with precision in the dark. Many people fought beside him as they took cover behind the dividers that were consistently being clipped with bullets which made fragments of concrete and rock fly into the air.

There was no need to call out more orders. The men and women that still fought alongside him knew what was required of them. All they had to do was keep blasting until more help came.

Dwight wanted to find where the bullets were coming from - specifically in the tree line - and how they came to be so close to Sanctuary without being seen. No doubt, the exiled Saviors planted themselves in the trees before the walkers descended otherwise they would have been killed by their own herd. The numbers that the Saviors had within Sanctuary had to be much higher than he anticipated.

Running out of ammunition, Dwight hurriedly loaded another case into his assault rifle while quickly glancing to Mark who continued to grasp his side with bloodstained hands.

"Ugh," Mark uttered, "I'm going to die tonight."

"Don't say that," Dwight encouraged but then said what was on the tip of his tongue without fear that it was in poor taste. "But if you do, it's your own fucking fault. I told you not to shoot off that flare."

Mark groaned with defeated agony as his way of admitting to Dwight that he was right without necessarily saying it. However, Dwight immediately regretted saying it but as he was trying to form an apology, Mark weakly raised his gun and shot at someone behind Dwight.

As Dwight turned around, he saw a burly man with a hatchet that landed merely inches away from where Dwight knelt. Dwight faced Mark again who smiled faintly. "I'm sorry...I didn't listen to you."

"Please don't be sorry, Mark," Dwight replied with remorse in his own voice. He said it loud enough to be heard over the gunfire as he propped his assault rifle back onto the divider. "I'll get you out of here, okay? I promise that you'll live to see another day."

In comparison, Dwight bonded with others far more than Mark. Miguel, Carson, Daryl, and Takuya were far better friends than he had ever been with Mark. He didn't know what it was like to have a younger sibling but likened Mark to that more than a friend. His constant complaints and near-stupidity made it impossible to be good friends with him. But seeing him bleeding from his chest made Dwight think of losing Takuya and how much it hurt to remember he was no longer around. Good friends or not, Mark was one of the only allies that Dwight had. That and Mark had helped him many times before. He wanted to return the favor. Again.

Another man with a hoodie over his head and his face covered with a black bandana crept beside the wounded Mark before either of them could react. With Dwight distracted by shooting at the walkers at the gate, the man took his opportune moment to attack. Dwight heard Mark yelp as he turned his attention to the scene and saw the hooded figure had stabbed Mark in the chest. Already the man was facing his next target which happened to be Dwight.

Dwight's rifle was too long and the man was too close to make a precise shot. Instead he used his weapon to hit the man across the face with the barrel. When the man was down, Dwight pulled out the knife that was still lodged in Mark's chest and stood over him as a mode of protection for his fallen comrade. Mark still made breaths of life, even if they sounded torturous. But Dwight was determined to keep his promise even with the added injury that had just occurred.

The hooded man tried to shake off the disorientation that overcame him with the blunt force of Dwight's rifle and walked towards him with another knife produced. Dwight stomped forward to meet the man head on with adrenaline pumping his actions. The man hesitated at Dwight's near terrifying stance and as he got closer, the man seemed to shrink in comparison to his almost six and half foot tall stature. Dwight nearly landed his knife into the man's chest before the hooded man came to and blocked Dwight from doing so. Dwight grabbed the man's arm and twisted it backwards to disorient the man further but the anonymous figure used a wrestling stance and made Dwight somersault forward.

Dwight staggered but tried to stay on his feet. However still on the ground, the hooded man pounced on him and tackled him to the ground. He tried to stab Dwight multiple times but Dwight managed to block him every single time. The last knife thrust, Dwight simply grabbed the knife away from him and threw it several feet away.

The hooded figure looked up to see where it was but as he gazed back down, his eyes followed Dwight's knife that he produced from underneath his back. The knife stabbed him just below the collarbone as blood spewed out from all directions. With more fight left in him, the man sprung towards Dwight even with the knife still lodged in his chest. Dwight took one step back but grabbed the man's face with his bare hands and twisted harshly until he heard a sickening crack as the man went instantly limp.

A feral persona threatened to break through which reminded Dwight of darker days. The urge to kill more was strong and hungry however he saw no one else to attack to quench the thirst. The switch in his head threatened to turn on but was quickly interrupted upon hearing Mark cough up blood. Being brought back to a more compassionate mindset, he let go of the hatred for all things and returned back for his people.

"Shit," Dwight mumbled and checked on his friend, "Shit, what do I do?"

Mark was completely out of a conscious state of mind but Dwight patted him on the shoulder and went back to work to hurry the war towards a swift end. It was what his friend needed to get out of their mess. It was the only thing that Dwight could do.

…

Sherry guarded the house and watched as chaos ensued. The lack of light made it difficult to keep track of who was where but Sherry found a vantage point on the porch that kept her hidden from threats as Ian stayed nearby on the other side of the stairs.

Ian acted strange which further raised Sherry's suspicions in regards to him. He wasn't looking as often as she was for potential threats and rather kept his attention on her and the house. He wasn't trying to keep her safe like Miguel wanted him to. She didn't need his protection and was capable of taking care of herself. As it was his lack of scrutiny made her work double time. She was watching for Saviors, watching the house for suspicious activity… and now she had to keep her eyes on him.

She heard the white picket fence open and nodded at Ian that men were approaching the house. Sherry waited to get a better view of them and watched as the men walked up the steps to the front porch. There she fired and shot one man as Ian fired at the other but missed. As Sherry dismissed of the man that Ian didn't, a gunshot sounded from Ian's weapon followed by a burning sensation on the tip of her ear. She brought a hand to it and felt the very top had been nicked by a bullet! Had it been closer by a hair, her ear and the rest of her face would have been blown to bits. Already her ear bled effortlessly with streams of blood pouring down to her neck and clothes.

Still stunned, she looked up to Ian who stared at her in surprise. However it wasn't the nick that emitted such a reaction. It was the fact that she was still alive. With the gun still partially aimed at her and his reaction, she knew it was him who tried to take away her life.

"Friendly fire, Ian?" Sherry asked precariously and looked towards the other side of the porch while thankful there was the advantage of no lighting for two reasons: had she not been obscured by darkness, he would have exposed of her far more easily and also so he wouldn't see that her gun was now pointed directly at him.

"That happens again, you'll be the first to regret it," Sherry warned, "I hope I made myself clear."

Even in the darkness, Sherry could see there was frustration in Ian's face as he stared towards Sherry and then to the house. The uneasiness that she felt in regards to him was now feeling like alarms blaring in her mind. Her gut instinct was to fix the problem. She didn't necessarily know what that meant but he was feeling more like a loose cannon with every passing minute of which needed to be extracted.

Then Ian's expression changed from exasperation to resolve as his face contorted with confirmed dement. Slowly turning on his heel, he faced towards the house and held up his gun at the same time the door opened with Amber emerging from the protected confines.

…

Amber watched from the porch as Ian stared her down and aimed his pistol towards her. Instantly having tunnel vision, she could only see the small barrel of his weapon aimed directly at her face. She could hear a sob escape her throat as reaching for her weapon in the holster would prove to be too slow.

Had seconds passed or minutes she didn't know as time became irrelevant. She heard the gun go off and jumped from the noise yet the gun didn't appear as if he fired it at all. Just as she thought she was imagining things, Ian began to fire his weapon but his aim was askew as he started to fall face down to the porch. Amber remained petrified but heard the bullets penetrate the porch roof above her while screams sounded in the house behind her.

The tunnel vision subsided as she saw Sherry pointing a gun at a now fallen Ian. Even though the whole thing happened in front of Amber's own eyes, she still stood in disbelief that she was able to live another day.

…

The moment that Ian turned on his heel towards the house, Sherry briefly saw him fix his eyes on his first victim - Amber.

Without giving it another thought, Sherry lifted her gun and pulled the trigger as her bullet penetrated Ian's back. His spinal cord was immediately affected as he began to crumble to the ground while his gun went off five times while each bullet hit the house before his finger released its grasp on the automatic weapon altogether.

His body splayed on the porch, Sherry quickly glanced up to Amber who stood merely feet away with her mouth agape.

"Amber," Sherry started and walked towards her, "Get inside the house and tell everyone that they are going to be okay. You don't need to be out here anymore."

"Um…" Amber said as she closed her eyes while trying to form a thought. Ian moaned at Sherry's feet but wailed when Sherry violently kicked him in his side.

"Amber?" Sherry repeated with concern.

"Okay," was all Amber could utter as she turned around to walk back into their home.

Sherry watched her step into the house then turned her full attention to the man in front of her with detest.

"You're not going anywhere," Sherry reiterated in a cold voice and brought her gun up to shoot him in the face without blinking an eye.

…

Fighting inside and outside persisted. Dwight was unsure of how long they had been at it but didn't want to presume Alexandria would come to their rescue anytime soon. They couldn't rely on the other communities even if they wished for their presence. As it were, they were all alone.

The first thing that Dwight noticed was the smell. When one of his men told him they only had one small tank of gasoline left, he knew it as something strange. As part of their vital things to store, it was unfathomable that they were running so low.

The aroma of fuel mixed with burning wood filled the air at the same time Dwight saw flickers of flames erupt and entirely surround the perimeter of Sanctuary. The fire spread effortlessly as he watched light trail along the fence at such a fast pace that only gasoline could help assist.

"Sherry was right," Miguel said as he looked around Sanctuary then to Dwight who stood twenty feet away, "You see any Saviors in this place? They hightailed it out of here before the real show begins."

More light was provided as more flames found items to ignite. Houses along the perimeter were the first ones at risk. Dwight worried about some of his people taking shelter in said homes but focused on shooting more walkers as the hundreds of undead leaned against the metal fence. The main problem they faced was the giant wooden beams that held the fence in place which were currently on fire. As the walkers pressed against the fence, it added the already weakened structure with ease.

Dwight glanced down at Mark with worry but continued with defending his community as long as it was his to protect. Not considering what would happen to himself and the ones he cared about, he continued to fight and vowed that the exiled Saviors would die with Sanctuary. If he died with them, so be it.

…

Her surroundings appeared brighter compared to the darkness of the night. It proved to be another setback instead of a help as houses surrounding Dwight's home became engulfed in flames.

"Amber!" Sherry called into the house and waited for a response. She kept watch while hearing Amber step over dead bodies behind her before she made it to where Sherry stood on the porch steps.

"What is it?" Amber asked warily.

"You have a gun with you, right?" Sherry questioned back.

"Um, yeah?" Amber responded as Sherry stepped off the porch. "Um… You're leaving me?! You told me that I don't have to be out here anymore!"

"Just for a few seconds," Sherry replied and walked towards the back of the house. The house was directly beside the gate of Sanctuary as fire lined the gate with ease. A couple of beams were on fire as well as what was left over of the walkers that hung on the wall. The house beside Dwight's home was fairly close to the gate and left only several feet between its foundation and the wall. To her dismay, she saw the house had already been affected by the flames.

Looking at Dwight's house for perspective, she saw it wasn't directly affected by the wall itself but as she continued to observe, she began coughing at the smoke that was building in the air. Walking towards the street, she stared up at the sky to see the stars were obscured by the poisonous hot air.

"We need to get these people out of the house!" Sherry demanded and walked towards the fence. She continued to cough but looked around to see if there was potential danger of exiled Saviors. For the past several minutes, it remained quiet on that account with no Saviors worth mentioning.

Sherry had to change the plan. It was her priority to keep the people safe. Not knowing if Dwight's house would remain free of the flames or not, she didn't trust their families to be left in the basement especially with no ventilation to escape the smell that surrounded Sherry even as she was outside in the open.

Amber nodded as they both ran into the house as the home beside them had flames spreading quickly. The pace that it was spreading was unnatural. It made Sherry work fast as she ran into the house to get her people to safety.

…

The smell of burnt gasoline was everywhere around them. Dwight's eyes burned as he watched the fire tear through Sanctuary hungrily. Men, including him, began to cough at the unbreathable air. Surrounded by darkness, walkers, and smoke filled with dangerous levels of carbon dioxide, the exiled Saviors left them to choke in their own grave. As each surrounding house went up in flames, and the fences became engulfed, he wanted to find Sherry and hold her one last time before they perished with their sorry excuse of a home.

The devastation was insurmountable. What was there to do when there was nothing left to defend and they had no way of escape? Ash and soot covered them all from top to bottom as fire cracked or sometimes imploded a home in the distance.

Mark coughed pitifully at Dwight's feet. Dwight was instantly pulled back to the present to see blood trickle to the side of Mark's face. There was nothing that they could do except wait to die. Not yet, Dwight thought to himself. Don't give up yet.

"No," Dwight muttered and tried to pull on Mark's arm. He didn't know his destination yet but saw the clearing next to the mill. It was away from the houses and would at least give them some sort of breathable air. But then remembering that perhaps some exiled Saviors lingered beyond the gates, the opening clearing seemed like a bad place to sit as they could potentially be picked off one-by-one.

The first beam broke at the front gate with the second beam falling only seconds after from all the weight of the unfazed walkers. The walkers that stood in front were roasted but the ones behind them were burnt but weren't going to let it get in the way of the meal awaiting them on the inside.

With uncertainty, Dwight decided to sit next to Mark and think of a new plan. He hated to think he was going to die in Sanctuary but as he continued to cough and gasp for air, the idea nearly seemed inviting… welcoming…

"Look!" He heard Peter manage to yell followed by boisterous hacking from too much overexertion. And out of the darkness and beyond the rising flames, Dwight saw headlights from cars materialize from the other side of the fence as they drew closer.

"Alexandria," he heard Miguel mutter quietly with a small grin on his face. They heard shouts from the cars when gunfire rained around them. However, it wasn't just the exiled Saviors firing at fish in a barrel. Dwight could detect multiple people fighting both walkers and shooting at the few Saviors that were sitting in the tree line. No longer did they sit comfortably in their hiding places and instead were being picked off just as easily as Dwight's people had been before. Knowing that they had the proper cover, Dwight could take the opportunity to tell his people what to do in order to survive. The other communities could handle their opposition. All Dwight's people had to do was live to see another day.

"The clearing by the mill," Dwight said in a hoarse voice towards Miguel, "Everyone needs to make it there now." He stood up to drag Mark towards it while zoning out the fact that Mark was a lost cause. No longer accepting the thought that he could lose another friend under his watch, he pulled Mark along towards the mill.

"Let us take him there," Miguel advised, "You get the families and Sherry."

Dwight nodded with instant worry of his girlfriend. No longer having to focus on a war that was on his shoulders, he could now think of what was most important to him. Even if it caused him to worry to the point that he could pass out.

…

They had several things in the house that they brought in the front yard for fear that the house would catch on fire like what seemed like the rest of Sanctuary. The oxygen tanks that they carried out were handled with care and instantly used for the young children who were having difficulty breathing with the lack of fresh air.

Sherry held Lorraine with an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth as Valerie held Lydia in suit. The exiled Saviors were gone. When they first left the security that the house provided, Sherry received whiplash from staring back and forth for any signs of imminent danger. But nothing happened. She was left to assume the exiled Saviors intended to asphyxiate them with all of Sanctuary being their grave.

All was quiet minus the coughing and sounds of flames binging on countless homes. Sherry's eyes stung from the smoke but she continued to keep watch as an extra precaution.

"Sherry!" She heard Dwight shout as he staggered over to their front yard. He was weakened significantly but seemed hopeful by the expression on his face. Kneeling beside her, he took a hand to her cheek and kissed her temple. "Alexandria is here! We're safe!"

She inhaled too fast at the sudden alleviation then coughed from the smoke again. Dwight held her as he waited for her fit to subside while Sherry gazed at the fallen community around them. Sherry was in the grenade attack in Alexandria. It wasn't until now that she realized just how lucky Alexandria had been in such a raid. Sanctuary was damaged beyond renewal.

Yet as help arrived with familiar faces from Alexandria, despair was the furthest emotion Sherry was feeling. It was a relief to let Sanctuary finally go. They had no ties, no commitments, and no obligation to keep the dead city afloat. It was now officially a lost cause. For that, Sherry was beyond consoled.

...

You are the most pathetic and heartless person I know, Amber thought to herself while she walked to the clearing by the mill that served as the only place that the doctors could work on minor to critical injuries alike. Several homes stayed unchanged from the fire which including Dwight's house and several other homes on their same street as well as the court house which still stood tall and ominous.

"Mark!" Amber shouted once she made it to the clearing but coughed at the strain it gave her already hoarse throat.

Several others glanced up toward her but went back to business as they already had their hands full with multiple patients.

"Amber!"

Amber turned around to see Christy fast approaching with arms outstretched. They embraced before Christy took both sides of Amber's face to examine every inch of her. "Do you need an oxygen tank? Do you feel faint? Do you have any injuries that haven't been looked at yet?"

"I'm a little frazzled but I'm doing okay," Amber disclosed and felt her face lose its composure, "Where is Mark?"

"They are performing surgery on him right now in the RV," Christy answered as Amber immediately began to crumble at the news.

"Oh my god!" Amber exclaimed as she felt her heart break, "I can't believe this!"

"He could pull through, Amber," Christy soothed but said nothing more.

"I'm such a terrible person!" Amber cried, "He has given so much to me and now it's too late for me to get my shit together. Oh, god, why am I so awful?"

"Honey, this is not the time to blame yourself," Christy spoke up with a gentle voice, "But right now you need to be seen so we can see if you're doing okay."

"I cheated on him," Amber blurted out when Christy started walking away. Christy stopped in her tracks and faced her with shock evident in her eyes.

"I cheated on him and now he's dying," Amber cried, "I'm a god awful person!"

"This isn't my business, Amber," Christy whispered back, "Why are you telling me all this?"

"I don't know…" Amber confessed with her heart hurting, "I don't know what to do right now."

Christy stepped close to Amber with a light smile but stern eyes. "I already told you what is needed. Mark is being taken care of to the best of Doctor Carson's abilities. There isn't much you can do for him at the moment. Take care of yourself now. But I advise you, as a friend, to think about your future with Mark. If he dies, that's something you need to deal with. If he lives, you need to consider giving him the respect you would want for yourself. Cut him loose or stick with him. For as long as you've been together, you owe it to him."

Amber tearfully looked to Christy and sniffled in response. It echoed Megan's sentiments exactly. Mark deserved to be happy and she had been tormenting him for months on end. Considering that his time had been wasted due to the possibility of death, she began to cry again as Christy brought her into a hug.

…

Dwight stood by the RV while waiting for Mark's emergency surgery to finish. Maggie stood next to him in support as they waited for any kind of verdict.

News of Mark would have to wait as he saw several of his friends fast approaching with information of their own. Dwight straightened and felt relieved with the expressions they each had.

Good news was welcome as Dwight stared away briefly while waiting from them to walk next to the RV. Quickly staring at the once tall fence, Dwight remembered he had spent all day trying to improve the pathetic metal partition that had been torn apart hours later. Like everything else, his efforts had fallen short when it came to saving Sanctuary. He had to let it go and move on.

Rick was followed by Daryl and Aaron as they seemed pleased with whatever outcome of attacking the exiled Saviors. They seemed to talk amongst themselves and Dwight was surprised at how relaxed everyone appeared. Instead of Rick acting like a burden was on his shoulders for taking more people into his community, he carried a sense of calmness as if letting Sanctuary go was the best thing for everyone. Dwight couldn't disagree with that.

"We attacked from this side and chased them down to the best of our ability," Peter responded with his Scottish accent ringing through with each word. "We could have potentially annihilated their chances of attacking us any further."

"Does it matter if they did?" Aaron questioned. "Look at this place."

"It'll be hard to recover from this, boss," Miguel admitted to himself and to everyone else.

"We're not going to recover," Dwight settled slowly and looked to his friends. "We're leaving. All of us."

They all looked to each other knowing that it was the right course of action and they ultimately didn't have any other choice.

"Where are we going?" Miguel asked.

Dwight reached down for a cigarette and lighter then glanced towards every part of Sanctuary. Some homes were still up in flames as they all monitored it so it didn't spread and cause a forest fire. Some homes still remained standing and untouched but it was a lost cause to keep it going. There was too much working against it.

"With permission from each community, I propose my people choose where they would like to relocate," Dwight suggested, "Like we did after the war with Negan."

"You have approval from Alexandria," Rick spoke up, "They will all have to be interviewed by Sherry with a trial run of no guns for two weeks. Some might have to be watched closely if they have ulterior motives. Especially since we have the Saviors former leader in custody."

"Sounds fair," Dwight answered, "Thank you."

"Hilltop has accepted others from the past," Maggie said with encouragement, "This is no different. We would be happy to assist as well."

She patted Dwight on the shoulder as he smiled in return. Ezekiel from the Kingdom and Hank from New Haven were absent from the emergency call but members from each community said they would be notified upon arrival back from Sanctuary. With approval of at least half the community, they were off to a great start to a new beginning.

…

Knowing that Mark's surgery would continue for much longer, he ventured out to assist others he needed his help. He even babysat Valerie's kids as she was examined by nurses just in case. Sherry acted like the energizer bunny and was eager to aid their people. Dwight watched her when his babysitting duties were done and became concerned when he saw the blood on her neck.

Stepping towards her, he reached for her forearm which made her stop and take a moment to breathe and analyze their miracle of being alive. Staring up at Dwight, he peered at her ear without saying a word to see it was slightly nicked from either a knife or bullet. Swallowing his anger down, he said nothing and only wanted to support Sherry as he equally needed her calmness and comfort.

Dwight placed a hand on Sherry's shoulder with tenderness to his touch. His face was marred with soot as he had been fighting the fires for most of the night. The lightest speck of brightness that he could see was the white in Sherry's eyes as she stared at him with a mixture of both relief and apology. They both wanted Sanctuary to work but slowly watched it slip away like a city caught in a landslide. The further it got away from their grasp, the more they wanted to let go. As they stood in the middle of what used to be a formidable strong point, they saw it was now a wasteland with nothing left to offer.

A part of Dwight felt that comparing the community to himself and the personal redemption story that he was still trying to write. But unlike when he was burned, Sanctuary couldn't get back on its feet. He felt for the place and was almost saddened that he failed to keep it thriving. To him, Sanctuary's redemption was symbolic to his own. He wanted it to change like he had. But the exiled Saviors wouldn't let it have its chance.

Unlike the fallen town, Dwight was determined to not fall. He had the chance to get away and be among people with the same common goal that he had. He could continue to fight for the world to be like it was before and no longer had to call the shots to do so. As much as he wanted his town to survive, he had to let it go to start anew for himself and for what mattered to him.

Sherry reached up and held his forearm. Seeing the pain behind his eyes, he could already see the clear streaks that trailed all the way to her jawline. Understanding that they were both tears of joy and defeat, Dwight appreciated the heartbreak that Sherry felt on his behalf.

Kissing the top of Sherry's head, he brought her into a warm embrace and slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulder blades as he felt her arms enclose around his back. Placing his chin above her head, he put a hand behind her neck as nothing had to be said at all.

Sanctuary was gone. That part of their lives was over. No longer attached to an obligation to stay with the godforsaken place, the weight seemed to lift off of them with great ease.

AUTHOR'S NOTES, TRIVIA, & FACTS

#1 - Pray For Manchester. Cruel senseless acts to children that just wanted to have the time of their lives.

#2 - I know, it's been a long time since I posted. However, I will be posting a new chapter every day until I reach Chapter 16 of Heal. Yep, that's right! 9 whole days of new full chapters!