Merle watched as the town came into view.

"What do you think?" the Governor asked.

"Bigger'n I thought it was gonna be," Merle said. A hell of a lot bigger. If the whole damn town was as batshit as the Governor and his band of crazies, he was totally fucked.

The Governor nodded. "We've got over a hundred people here now."

"All soldiers?"

"Some of my soldiers stay behind to look after things, but its mostly families and refugees here."

Merle raised an eyebrow. "How the hell ya feed 'em all?"

"they work."

The gates opened and Merle held back an awful lot of swearing. It looked...hell, it looked damn near normal, if you ignored the makeshift fence surrounding the place. There were kids playing in the streets, women out front fucking around in gardens, men hauling things and shoring up the fence...and he was in a damn tank with two people bound and gagged. It was like Mayberry if you were on acid.

"what'd ya take the prisoners fer?" he asked. "Everybody here okay with that?"

The Governor gave him a sharp glance. Merle tried to look only mildly interested. He must have passed muster, but the man said, "no. Most of them don't know about it. But I have my reasons and I'd prefer it if you kept quiet about it."

Or get your fucking tongue ripped out. It was unspoken, but Merle wasn't stupid. Since he was already down to one hand, he figured he'd hang on to his tongue.

"It's yer town," he said simply.

The Governor laughed and clapped him on the back. "I knew we'd get along."

The tank rolled into the space that had been made for it and the man who called himself the Governor got out. Merle stayed for a moment. He had no idea what the hell he was going to do next.

Sinclaire looked at the people in front of her and tried to rein in her temper. Her group was waterlogged, shocked, and outgunned and she couldn't afford to lose it now. Nate stepped forward.

"What's the problem?"

The man in fatigues spoke up. "The problem is that you dropped off that cliff outta nowhere like fucking paratroopers and we wanna know why."

"I didn't drop, I was thrown," Sinclaire said, having gotten control. "We were attacked."

Alarm crossed the man's face. "Who attacked you? Where are they now?"

Sinclaire looked at Rick.

"They headed out," Rick said.

"They're going to Woodbury," Marie added. "It's kind of far from here."

"How far?" The man barked, making Marie jump.

"Take it easy. She ain't fuckin' Magellan," Daryl snapped.

"I need some details!"

A tall, heavily built black man stepped up and put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Calm down, Abraham."

Sinclaire looked at the other man. Sure, he had a gun, but he also had a calm demeanor.

"Maybe we could take some time and talk things out," she said, matching the man's tone. "The Governor, he's the one that attacked us, is on his way back to his own town, and we aren't a threat to you if you aren't a threat to us."

Abraham looked at her, and then around at them all. There was a shuffling from their left and Daryl swung his crossbow up, dropping a zombie. As he stepped forward to pull the bolt free, he stopped.

"Shit."

Sinclaire stepped up beside him and watched them approach, feeling almost detached from it all. "We've gotten their attention."

She turned back to the men behind her. Abraham took a step back. Her heart sank. Without somewhere safe, they wouldn't all survive this.

"Let's go, Tyreese."

"They got kids, man," Tyreese said, his eyes on Carl and Sophia.

"We got people to protect too!" Abraham shouted.

"Please!" Marie said, her eyes wide and her voice trembling. "Please, we're good people and we've lost..." her voice broke. "Everything. Please."

"Ah hell," Abraham snarled, watching Tyreese cave.

"Follow me," Tyreese ordered.

Sinclaire allowed Nate to take the lead and she brought up the rear, running beside Rick to make sure he made it. Merle had really walloped him.

"Look at this shit," Daryl said as the place came into view.

It was a gated community with fancy brick walls and a heavy wrought iron gate. Abraham jerked the gate open and they all piled in.

"What's going on?" A pretty girl with a long ponytail pulled back through her baseball cap demanded.

Abraham ignored her as he muscled the gate shut. Everyone looked around at the new place and then eyed the other group warily.

"What's up?" A guy with a mullet asked.

"They're the group that was up on the hill," Tyreese said.

"You knew about us?" Daryl asked.

"We could see the smoke from your fires," the girl answered.

Just like she and Merle had seen the smoke from theirs. Sinclaire looked at the huge brick houses. They had to be worth millions. Merle had been right.

"And you trusted them?" the girl continued, looking amazed.

"I didn't have a choice," Abraham growled, looking at Tyreese.

"I'll take responsibility for them," Tyreese said without rancor. "Back off, man."

Mullet Guy approached Sinclaire, but he didn't speak. She eyed him in silence too, mostly because she wasn't in the mood to be polite. Eventually he walked away again.

"You can stay the night," Abraham decreed. "Then you gotta hit the road."

"You act like we're beggin' to stay here," Daryl snapped. "I was leavin' anyway."

"Leaving?" Marie asked shrilly.

Rick held his hand up in a sharp gesture, cutting the brewing argument short. "We're happy to have a place."

Sinclaire noticed how exhausted he looked and how pale Carl was. It hit her then that Lori was dead. Lori and the baby she had carried.

"Where do you want us to stay?" she said abruptly.

Tyreese escorted them to a huge, empty house.

"There's a fireplace in the living room," he said. "I'll get your fire started. You can all camp out here for a while and dry out. There'll be a guard outside your door."

He said the last part apologetically, but no one was seriously offended. He dropped off several cans of something and Carol started preparing a meal in silence. Sinclaire pulled back the curtain and eyed the guards. She wasn't surprised to see that one of them was Abraham. The other was a younger guy that she hadn't met yet. She saw mullet man approach and get rebuffed by Abraham.

"Awfully protective, huh red Beard?" she muttered, dropping the curtain.

When she turned, she was nose to nose with Daryl.

"The hell do we do now?" he demanded.

She pushed him to the side and went to sit in front of the fire, pulling her gun out and breaking it down, hoping like hell that it would dry and work again. She heard him continue to talk, his voice getting louder as she ignored him, but there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't answer him.

Her throat ached. Her body ached. Her heart ached.

And she had no idea what the hell to do now.

Author's Note: I have already started working on the next chapter because (not to oversell it) I got one hell of an idea the other day and I don't wanna lose it. Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and are not getting too caught up in the Christmas rush already. Also (shameless self promotion here) if you like Supernatural, feel free to check the new story I put up a few weeks ago, Love and Other Lore. And if you don't like Supernatural...watch it until you do. Supernatural is awesome.