I knew it was going to be a shitty day when the gunshot rang out.

I was sitting with Beth when it happened, top and tail on the metal stairs in the cell block. We both looked at each other, before I jumped up. Carl scrambled to his feet, staring at the door that separated the cell block from the common room.

"Did you hear that?" Beth asked.

How could I not?

Lori and Carol exited the cell on the top floor before each of them came and walked down the stairs. "Was that a shot?"

Why do things always go wrong when I'm left behind? The same thing happened with my dad, leaving me at the house. He told me to turn on the radio at dusk in case anything happened and he never came back. Rick leaves me here in charge, and now something happened in the prison.

"Something's wrong," I said. "I should go—"

"—No," Lori stopped me as soon as I opened my mouth. "Rick wanted you here for a reason, didn't he? He wouldn't want anyone running off in the dark alone."

I questioned Rick leaving me here in charge, but with half the group clearing the prison he probably just wanted someone to keep the peace here. Beth was worried about her dad, Lori and Carl about Rick.

I sighed, turning to Carl, "Give me the keys—"

"—Ace—"

"—Something's clearly wrong," I repeated, stopping Lori before she could argue. "If they're trapped, they'll want to get inside as quickly as possible."

Really I just wanted to get out of this room, even if it was just to sit in the common room. Being somewhere where I could actually help seemed like the most important thing to worry about right now.

Carl reached in his back pocket, taking the keys out and handing them to me. He wanted to hold them, so he could let his dad in when they came back. Now I just needed some time alone.

I walked out into the common room, locking the gate behind me and going to sit on one of the tables near the door where they left to clear the prison. A few minutes later I heard mutters and yelling from the darkened hallway through the door, and stood up as Rick came into view behind the bars.

"Ace! It's Hershel!" Rick was yelling, as Daryl squeezed his arm through the barred door to unlock it. "Go open the cell block door! Now, quick!"

I had to shove the worry aside and stop thinking about what could've happened as I ran back to the cell block door where everyone was crowded around, able to hear Rick's yelling, I assumed.

Still, I was worried. Hershel was never supposed to be out there, he volunteered that morning because he wanted to make sure that Glenn and Maggie were safe. I couldn't even imagine what happened because only hearing one gunshot was just too odd.

I managed to push it open just as Rick and the others rolled Hershel in on some kind of metal table, pushing him through the cell block to one of the cells. His right leg had been severed from the knee down, and he was bleeding through whatever they had used to cover his wound.

"Get him on the bed!" Rick instructed, and they pushed the table into place. "He got bit."

Everything just stopped, and all I could hear was sounds but not actual words from then on. I was standing far back away from the door, but I could see everything. Together, they heaved Hershel onto the bed and rolled the metal table back out of the room.

Carol knelt down in front of him, using the bed sheets to cover the leg . . . what was left of it, at least. He bled through the sheets almost immediately, the blood soaking into everything, turning the green sheets a dark brown.

I should have been in there. This shouldn't have been him.

"I need bandages!" Carol yelled out.

"We used everything we had!"

Carl ran out of the room, towards a different cell

Carol yelled for something, which I missed. I squeezed my eyes closed, shaking my head before staring back at the cell. I could hear my own swallowing in my head, and I turned my head away from the room.

Stop! I thought forcefully. They don't need this right now.

"He's already bled through the sheets!" Maggie said, her voice shaky.

"We can burn the wound to clot the blood," Glenn suggested. "I can start a fire."

"Oh God, no please don't," I could just hear Beth's small voice ask.

"No, the shock could kill him," Carol exclaimed. "It's not gonna stop the arteries from bleeding. We need to keep it dressed and let it heal on its own."

I moved away from the room, walking towards the gate between the cell block and the common room, nearing my cell. I needed to get away for a minute, take some time to regroup. There was nothing I could do to help them there.

You're doing such a good job of handling things, I thought sarcastically. Rick left the right person in charge.

There was yelling from the common room, voices I didn't recognise, along with Daryl. He must have been out there with T-Dog, because I only now remembered that I hadn't seen either of them.

"What was that?" Beth asked.

"Prisoners," Rick said, before correcting himself, "survivors. It's alright, everybody just stay put."

Both Rick and Glenn left the cell to my left but stopped just outside the cell. "Do not leave his side!" I heard Rick say. "If he dies, you need to be there for that. Think you can do this? Maggie will be there."

There was a beat, before Glenn nodded, "I got it."

"I can bring T in—"

"—I got it," he repeated.

Rick gave a nod, "Good."

Glenn walked back to the room where everyone was still tending to Hershel, as Rick turned and walked towards the gate. He gave me a nod, and I walked towards him with the keys in hand to unlock the cell.

"Do you need more people out there?"

The question was more for me than him. He clearly didn't need me out there because he just offered to bring T-Dog back in here, I just needed something else to focus on other than the chaos in here. I couldn't do anything to help in here, but maybe there was something I could do out there.

"Not right now," he shook his head. "I wanna check them out first, see what they want."

I just gave a nod.

"Glenn's staying," Rick said. "He should help you keep a handle on things."

"Sure," I muttered. "Because things are going so great."

I pulled the door open for him, and he slipped through to talk to the prisoners.

I resided to my cell shortly after I realised that I was completely useless in a situation like this. Glenn was out there making sure Beth and Maggie were okay, Carol was keeping tabs on Hershel and Rick was out dealing with a potential threat to the group.

The cars weren't here so I had nothing to fix.

To keep myself busy I continued reading up on my military tactic guides, looking for any other recipes or chapters that would be useful to a situation where the dead were walking. There were a lot of different things that could've helped, and some things that seemed useful but had the pages ripped out or covered in some kind of coffee stains like it was used as a coaster. The missing chapters meant that the books were getting faster and faster to get through, and the first one didn't keep me busy for that long, but I was lucky that it didn't have to.

"Food's here!" I heard T-Dog calling out, before the gate at the front of the cell block squeaked open. Carl had asked for the keys again, insistent on waiting for his dad to come back.

"What you got?" The small Grimes asked.

"Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans," T-Dog sounded like he was sick of eating the food already. I stood up and walked away to my cell door, looking out at them. "There's a lot more where this came from!"

It did seem like a lot. T-Dog had a huge box in his arms, not struggling at all to carry the two hefty items into the cell block. Rick came in just behind him, two huge bags of something in either arm, the weight rested against his chest.

I stepped out of the cell, following them as they crossed Hershel's cell. Rick stopped, and I glanced in the door to see Hershel, still laying on the bottom bunk, unconscious.

"Any change?" Rick asked

"Bleeding is under control and no fever, but his breath is laboured, his pulse is way down and he hasn't opened his eyes yet," Lori explained.

Rick was quiet for a moment, but turned his back towards Glenn. "Take my cuffs, put them on him. I'm not taking any chances."

Glenn gave a saddened look, but nodded and took the handcuffs from Rick. I bit the inside of my lip as both Rick and Lori separated from the room and as Glenn walked in to cuff Hershel. More reason to believe this wasn't going to work.

Letting out a sigh, I turned back to my cell. There was nothing I could do for anyone right now, so I didn't want to be in the way or make myself more upset by hanging around Hershel. It wasn't my place.

I grabbed one of the other books and laid back down on the cot.

A few minutes passed before a shadow blocked my doorway, and I glanced up to see Rick. He was holding a set of riot gear in his arms, either one that Glenn or Maggie had been wearing when they went into the prison earlier that day.

"Do you need something?" I asked cautiously.

He pursed his lips, turning his eyes away for a second as he asked: "You still want to help?"

It was completely unrelated to me asking if he needed anything, and more in relation to what I said before he left to speak to the prisoners. It wasn't that hard to guess that he was letting me join him to help with the prisoners.

I nodded, standing up. "Yeah."

"Put this on," he held out the black armour, which I took. "We're clearing out a cell block for them, keeping us separate."

"Okay."

"But if they do anything we may have to kill them," he kept adding these pieces of information slowly, like anything new he said would deter me from wanting to go out there and help him.

I was no stranger to the concept. Rick had killed to keep the group safe before, that it was becoming expected whenever we came across people. While I reacted badly at the bar in Hershel's town, I knew what to expect now.

I nodded. "I know."

"You may even have to do it yourself," he corrected. "I don't want it to come to that, but I don't know what's going to happen out there. Would you be able to do that?"

For some reason it hadn't crossed my mind that I may actually be in the situation where I would have to kill anyone, but the idea did not take me off guard. I should've killed by now, I should've killed that man in the Winter, but I couldn't reach my weapons. I doubted that killing these prisoners would be any easier, but I did believe that I could do it, because I had gotten so close before.

I nodded.

The prisoners were hanging around in the common room area, being watched under the careful eye of Daryl who I passed at the gate to the cell block. He gave me a look, one that told me he was not told about the idea of bringing me in, and already had strong opinions. His strong opinions would have to wait until after.

There were five prisoners, waiting for Rick to return, I assumed. When the gate creaked and was locked shut behind us, they each turned their eyes up to look at us. One of the men who was sitting on the table with long black hair tied back into a half-up ponytail, stood up.

"What's this?" The man asked.

"This is Ace," Rick said, ignoring the man's untrusting tone as the three of us neared the table that the prisoners were gathered around. "She's gonna help clear out a block."

The man continued to stare at me for a moment or two, his eyes flickering down to the gear Rick gave me. Instead of just the chest piece that everyone else had been wearing who went to clear the prison earlier, I had been told to wear the full set of armour. "You expecting a riot or something?"

"I'm not Kaiser Chiefs," no one laughed at my joke, unsurprisingly.

"You're British?" Asked a blond man with shoulder length hair and a moustache the same colour.

"You're hearing things."

"No offence, boss," the dark haired man started again, turning to Rick. "We don't need any help from a kid."

"Ya want the block or not?" Daryl snapped.

The man's gaze shifted to Daryl, and then back to me, before his shoulders slumped. He turned away, letting out a scoff as he walked back around the table to stand where everyone else was gathered.

I hoped that would be the end of it, but the blonde man who was nearer to Rick than his own people spoke up, "It's nice to meet you, miss. I'm Axel."

"Right . . ."

"Oscar," A black man next to Axel introduced.

A very large man spoke next, giving a small wave. "Big Tiny."

Nope. "Sure."

"That's Andrew," Axel pointed to a much shorter man, almost around his own height. His arm then moved to the one that had spoken before with the long, dark hair, "and Tomas."

Luckily for me, T-Dog showed up a few moments later, wielding a lot of what I assumed we were handing out as weapons. There were too many bats and other spiky tools for that to not be the right answer.

He spread each of them out on the table the prisoners were standing around, before each of them started reaching for the items, testing for weight and grip.

"Why do I need this?" Tomas twisted the crowbar looking tool in his hand, and then raised his revolver in the other. "When I've got this?"

Seeing it now made me realise that I had completely forgotten to ask if any of the prisoners had any guns, because why would they? How would they even get them? No one else looked like they had a gun or anything, which was a little better, but he seemed like the one person that I didn't want walking around with a pistol.

"You don't fire a gun," Daryl said. "Not unless your back's up against the wall. Noise attracts them, really riles them up."

"We'll go in two by two," Rick started. "Daryl will run point with T, I'll bring up the rear with you," he pointed at Andrew. "Ace'll stay in the back. Stay tight, hold formation, no matter how close the walkers get. Anyone breaks ranks, we could all go down, anyone runs off, they could get mistaken for a walker, end up with an axe to the head."

"And that's where you aim," Daryl said. "These things only go down with a head shot."

"Ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man," Tomas gave a subtle smile to the other prisoners.

"Oh, yeah," I muttered. "I forgot you were all murderers before."

"They ain't men," T-Dog spoke before I could get reprimanded for what I had said. "They're something else."

Rick gave a nod in agreement, "Just remember: go for the brain."

I couldn't call out loud quick enough before an arm shot out between the bars to grab at Andrew's arm. He yelled out, screaming as the walker clawed at his jumpsuit. I stepped forwards, stabbing my knife down into the walker. Andrew jumped away from the door, panting and staring at me.

"Watch out for that," was all I said.

Andrew just nodded, staring at the walking now on the ground behind the door. "Y-yeah, okay."

"Man, it's too damn dark in here," one of them said, I didn't really recognise the voices.

"Gotta hold it up high out in front of you," Daryl instructed. "You're gonna hear 'em before you see 'em."

At the front, as they walked around a corner up ahead, they finally heard the distinct groans of the walkers as we came closer and closer.

"It's coming!"

"Shhh!"

Two walkers came around the corner, and before any of us could do anything, before Rick could instruct a strategy, the prisoners ran forward, just yelling out a cry as they went to attack the walkers.

Oscar had kicked one down, and they were just stomping on it, using the bat to hit its stomach. Tiny had a hold of the second one while Tomas or Axel began stabbing it, using a crowbar to rip into its stomach.

None of them went for the brain.

Great.

I took a step forward, standing at Daryl's side as we just watched the prisoners. Rick lowered his torch, just staring, not really sure what to do.

"Take 'em out," Rick said finally.

I looked at Rick, and he glanced over towards me and Daryl. Suppressing my eye roll, I walked forwards to the walker that Oscar and Andrew were beating on; before pulling my axe from my holster and swinging it down into its skull. The body stopped moving, and both Oscar and Andrew stopped, looking at each other and then me.

I just tired, walking back to the others, past Daryl who had taken out the second corpse. I stood at Rick's side, facing the prisoners again.

"What the hell was that?!" Rick barker.

"You don't need to tell us how to take out a man," I muttered to myself, just barely loud enough for everyone to hear.

"We had it handled," Tomas said in a nonchalant voice.

"What happened to taking out the brain?" Daryl snapped.

"Can't we just do this ourselves?" I asked in a whisper. "It'd be fucking easier."

"They want the block, they're doing it," Rick told me. "Besides, we can't risk them coming back to C block. Not now."

I nodded.

He was right, but this situation was just too weird. It was strange that people didn't even know how to kill walkers this long into the apocalypse.

"Look, we've never taken them out before," Oscar said. "We're sorry."

"If you can't do this right," Rick addressed them again, "you're on your own. You're gonna get someone killed with that shit and if you think it'll be any of my people, you got another thing coming."

"Sorry, mister," Axel said. "We'll do it right next time."

"Let's get a move on," Rick instructed. "We've still got a lot of ground to cover."

It didn't take long before we found another group of walkers, heading around a corner towards us. T-Dog had moved so close that I had to stand right into the corner of the hallway, hidden from any of the walkers by the four or so people in front of me.

"It's gotta be the brain," Daryl instructed, firing a bolt off into the first one. "Not the stomach, not the heart, the brain!"

"I hear you, the brain," Axel nodded.

Oscar swung a bat down at the walker, landing on the top of the head, as more and more made their way around the corner. "Like that?"

Daryl hummed in acknowledgement,

Rick stepped forwards, stabbing forwards with his machete. When the walker fell to the ground, he leaned forwards, stepping back into the group. "Stay in tight formation, no more prison riot crap."

There was nothing I could really do behind Daryl and Rick except watch the two and the prisoners fight off the onslaught of walkers. There were never too many at a time, always just enough that the front line could deal with them easily.

As they fought and fought, I held a light up over the top of the front line, making it easier for them to see.

There was screaming from the hallway where we had just come from, and I looked around T-Dog to see Big Tiny dealing with two walkers that must've slipped from the front line. No, there was no way. They must've come from behind us.

Rick sprinted past the group, taking out one of the walkers that was trying to get Big Ting, and as a second one grabbed at his jumpsuit with one hand, there were gunshots that almost deafened me, but silenced any screaming.

Tomas was standing there, his revolver held high.

Big Tiny had his head glanced over his shoulder, at whatever the injury was. It had to have been something a Walker did. One of them had their hands ripped off from a pair of cuffs, a sharp bone fragment coming out the end of the sleeve?

"Is . . . is he infected?" I asked, walking over to where Rick was.

"No! No! I'm fine!" Tiny was pleading.

"Let me see that," Rick said.

Big Tiny turned around, and Rick held the light up to his shoulder, looking at the blood that was soaking into his jumpsuit. Rick then glanced at the floor before then meeting my eyes, taking a step away from Tiny.

"Fuck," I whispered.

"I'm telling you!" Tiny said again. "I don't feel anything, it's just a scratch!"

Rick shook his head, "I'm sorry man . . ."

"I can keep fighting!"

"You cut that old guy's leg off to save his life!" Andrew chimed in.

"Look at where the bite is."

"Guys, I'm fine!" He exclaimed, before his voice grew quieter. "Just . . . I'm fine. Look—look at me, I'm not changing into one of those things."

"Look, man, there's gotta be something we can do," Oscar said, turning to Rick. "We could just lock him up!"

"Quarantine him!" Axel agreed.

"We gotta do something!" Andrew exclaimed. "Why are you just standing there?! We gotta save him!"

"There's nothing we can do," Rick said.

"You son of a bitch."

"I'm al—"

I let out a yelp as Big Tiny fell over dead, Tomas stood behind him, weapon in hand. He glanced at it for a second, before continuing to swing down into his skull again, and again, and again, and again.

I turned, walking past T-Dog and Daryl to get away. I could still hear the sounds of the weapon colliding with his head, the drips and splattering of blood that flew to the ground or the walls.

When the silence came, there were footsteps, and I glanced back over my shoulder to watch Tomas step away from the body. It didn't look like he was going anywhere, but he just rounded the corner and the footsteps stopped.

Then I saw the body. Big Tiny was barely recognisable anymore, blood pouring out of the disfigured shape that used to be a head.

My eyes moved back up to Rick, who had only now turned from Tomas to look at me. He glazed back at the corner that Tomas had rounded, where he was most likely waiting for us, before he walked towards me, nodding his head and grabbing my arm to move me away from the group. T and Daryl were behind him as he got us as far away from the prisoners as he could while keeping them in his sights.

"You can go back," Rick suggested. "T can take you back."

"No . . . No, I'm-I'm good."

"You're sure?" Rick expected me to panic, to freeze up and hyperventilate like the last time I had seen someone die at the bar. It was different in Winter because I had physically been attacked, and this did not compare to that.

But I was fine.

I don't know how, but I managed to keep my anxiety to myself. The part that worried me the most was that we were going to keep him around after what'd just happened. Maybe because he had just killed one of his own, Big Tiny was bitten after all, and something was going to have to be done eventually.

"The hell are we standing around for?" Tomas' voice came, and we looked down the hallway to see him back, standing with the other prisoners.

Rick's eyes met mine, but I just nodded to answer his last question. I was fine. I was better than fine, I was ready.

"Let's move on," Rick said finally. "T, you run point."

"You got it," T-Dog's voice was quieter, managing to pull his eyes from the body as he moved past.

As the prisoners started to follow T-Dog down where Tomas had been waiting, he looked back to me, Daryl and Rick, staring at us. After a second or two, he turned and followed them, and his shoulder twitched upwards.

Daryl turned back to me and whispered. "Stay the fuck away from him."

Again, all I had to do was nod.

We took off after them, walking behind them. Tomas was just in front of Daryl and Rick as we walked, and I was fortunate for that barrier between me and him. He had to have been unstable,

"You see the look on his face?" I heard Daryl ask.

"He makes one move . . ." Rick trailed, his voice low and monotone. It sounded like he was warning Daryl of what we may have to do if he acted out again, like he did with me when he offered to help.

"Just give me a signal," Daryl finished.

I was still shocked that they had even let him live after what he'd just done, though in all fairness, the only person he killed was from his own group, and the man was going to die anyway. But it could've been handled better than that.

We arrived in a laundry room, detergents on the shelves basically untouched and massive, silver washing machines. The room was empty, quiet, and aside from the general wear and tear of a room being left untouched for ten months, it seemed like not much had gone down in this particular room of the prison.

That wasn't to say that nothing had happened around this area, because there was a double door at the other end of the room that had the distinct undead noises coming through the doors. Docile noises, as they were unaware of the presence. It just sounded like the ones that stood around until they received some kind of stimulus.

There was a small clattering as Daryl pulled his keys from his back pocket and threw them on the ground in front of Tomas.

"I ain't opening that," he said immediately.

"Yes, you are," Rick demanded. "If you want this cell block, you're gonna open that door. Just the one, not both of them. Because we need to control this."

Thomas seemed less than impressed, which I didn't doubt was making him more and more pissed off. Nonetheless, he grabbed the keys from the ground, and walked to the doors, unlocking them, but not opening them yet.

"You bitches ready?" He tried pulling back on the doors, but they did not open. "I got this."

He tried again, but it was only after he gripped both doors and yanked back as hard as he could did they both fly open, and then the threat was clear. Tens of walkers just there, outside, waiting, and there were definitely more around the unseen corner.

Tomas rushed back into the group as Rick yelled out. "I said one door!"

"Shit happens!"

T-Dog placed an arm across my chest, pushing me back behind the front line and the prisoners close to where Daryl was standing. "Stay back kid, don't want you mixed up in this shit."

I did as told, watching as the people in front of me killed the walkers. Daryl was shooting them with the bow, aimed over T-Dog's head. They each killed all of the walkers that came in through the doors, and I just stood back out of the way.

Tomas swung his weapon, and I didn't miss how Rick had to dive out of the way. I thought that may be the end of it, but I watched as Tomas stepped towards one of the walkers, and shoved it back towards Rick.

He stumbled to the ground, the walker falling on top of him. I heard him call out for Daryl and as I went to step across to help, Daryl pushed me back and ran over himself. "T, mind the gap!"

Daryl stabbed the walker, pulled it off Rick and helped him to his feet just as the stream of walkers ended. Rick stared at Tomas, who was now looking back and shifting on his feet. T-Dog pushed me back a little.

"He was coming at me, bro," Tomas defended.

"Yeah . . . Yeah, I get it," Rick had a small smile on his face, one I had seen before, and I knew what was happening. I had my hand on my gun ready. "I get it."

I wasn't going to freak out this time.

"Shit happens."

Ricks pulled his machete back and swung it around into Thomas' head. Thomas had no chance to react, and as the blade tore through his skull and into his brain, his body froze. He fell to his knees and then down as Rick pulled the machete back.

"No!"

My gun was out of the holster and up, but Rick had kicked Andrew before he was able to attack him with the baseball bat. Daryl swung his crossbow up and aimed it at him.

"Easy now."

Andrew looked between Rick, then Daryl, then me, before turning and running through the halls we had just cleared.

"I got him!" Rick called, stepping over Tomas' body and running off after Andrew into the dark.

Daryl turned his crossbow on Oscar then, before yelling out, "Hey, get down on your knees!"

I turned my gun on Axel, realising that T-Dog had it covered. Both prisoners seemed surprised that they were being pinned down after what had just happened.

"We don't have no affiliation to what just happened!" Axel called out. "Tell him, Oscar!"

"Stop talking man."

With both prisoners taken care of, I had to keep my attention on the door that Rick and Andrew had taken off down, waiting for one of their returns. There was a good chance that Andrew was going to be dead, and I was mainly just waiting for the gunshot as confirmation.

"Get on after 'em," Daryl said after a minute, and I looked back at him. He nodded to the door, his eyes steady, but the sudden order told me that he was worried about Rick. "Gun up and shoot that bastard if you see him."

I gave a nod and ran off, chasing after Rick. I wasn't sure what I could've done if I caught up with him, but I had to make sure that he wasn't losing a fight or something. My gun was raised as Daryl had demanded, and I looked down each corner to try and see where they went.

As I neared some stairs I heard yelling, and ran up. The yelling was Andrew, but I didn't know if that was a good or bad sign. I turned around a corner with my gun up, which led to an open door, with Rick holding a barred gate closed.

"Let me back in, man! Let me back in! Open up, man, open up!" Andrew was yelling, begging for Rick to open the door and let him back in. I could see the walkers coming up behind him, reaching out to take a bite at him. Rick just held the door closed, staring at him and saying nothing. Andrew's eyes landed on me, but I just stood there as he started pleading for my help. "Girl! Come on! Please! He's gonna kill me!"

"You better run," Rick muttered.

I kept my mouth shut, watching as Andrew ran backwards, avoiding the arms of the incoming corpses that reached out to grab him. He was screaming as he fought his way through the bodies.

Rick stepped back and closed the second door, blocking any view of what was happening and muffling the sound. He took a second, eyes on the ground, before they raised to meet mine, and he stared at me.

I just stared back.

None of that mattered to me. Rick had killed before, all for the group, all for good reasons. I didn't question or disagree with his decisions, because if he thought they were the right ones, then I would follow along.

I gave him a single nod to communicate this, and he seemed to appreciate the gesture.

"C'mon," he muttered. "Gonna kill those bastards."

"So this was the plan all along, huh? Kill us, kill our people so you could get this place to yourselves?"

"No, sir please! That wasn't it at all, not for us!"

"But your friends had a plan and you just went along with it?!"

"We didn't know!"

"You didn't know?" Rick tilted his head. "You knew! Daryl, let's end this now!"

He spun around, pointing the gun in Axel's face, and Daryl put his knife to Oscar's neck. Axel was crying, his impending death making him break down into tears, as he continued to beg for his life.

"Sir, please, please listen to me!" Axel leaned forward as he cried. "It was them that was bad! It wasn't us!"

"Oh, that's convenient!"

"You saw what he did to Tiny!" He cried. "He was my friend! Please! We ain't like that! I like my pharmaceuticals, but I'm no killer! Oscar here, he's a B n' E, and he ain't very good at it neither! We ain't the violent kind, they were!" He was begging, pleading, but Rick just held the gun to his head. "Please! Please, I swear to god! I wanna live!"

Rick stared at him for a second, before spinning around, pointing his gun back at Oscar, right in his face. "What about you?" He asked.

"I ain't never pleaded for my life, and I ain't about to start now." Oscar was very different to Axel, his face blank as he stared down the barrel of Rick's gun. Whether he was going to die or not, he was ready. "So you do what you gotta do."

"Either of you move and it's the last thing you do," the threat seemed to come so easily to him.

Rick gave a nod of his head to the rest of us, making us follow him to the other end of the room, still in full view of the convicts so he could see if they tried to run.

"So, what're we doin'?" Daryl asked in a hushed voice.

"They seem really sincere," T-Dog said. "Not like the others."

"If we do this, clear out a block for 'em and we're wrong . . . ?" Rick trailed off, his head tilting to the side as he thought. It was a scary one. If we were wrong about them being 'good' then it could result in the deaths of our people.

"They don't have weapons, not guns or anything and we can just lock the gates to our block," T-Dog was saying. "They wouldn't be able to get us in our sleep or anything."

"And we're just assuming that someone convicted for breaking and entering won't be able to get to us?" I questioned, glancing at T-Dog. He seemed to be the one that was more on the fence. Rick and Daryl were ready, and I was sick of dealing with situations where people may or may not be dangerous, something which I was now going to name Shrödinger's threat.

"It's not that far of a leap," Daryl said. "He ain't exactly a specialist."

"I doubt they would," T-Dog said. "I really don't think they're that bad."

Rick was quiet for a long time, until he finally spoke up, deciding what we were doing. "We'll clear a block for them, they can take it or leave it, but if they're staying, they keep to themselves, just like we agreed."

"We're just leavin' 'em here?" Daryl raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsure.

"No, we're going in there," Rick corrected, "doing this ourselves. Ace, T, stay here and watch them. They try to move, shoot 'em."

I just nodded.

T-Dog seemed less than thrilled.

Rick and Daryl returned less than an hour later, grabbing the prisoners by the arms and leading them towards the cell block they both had just cleared out. It looked the same as our own, same number of cells, another door at the other end of the room, stairs in the middle.

The only thing that was different were each of the bodies coming out of the cell's doors.

"Oh man! I knew these guys," Axel murmured, "they were good men."

"Let's go," was all Rick said in return. I headed straight for the door.

"So you're just gonna leave us in here?" Oscar asked, turning around to face us. "Man, this is sick!"

"We're locking down the cell block," Rick said, gesturing at the cell block with his machete. "From now on, this part of the prison is yours. Take it or leave it, that was the deal."

"You think this is sick?" Daryl said. "You don't wanna know what's outside."

"Consider yourselves the lucky ones," Rick agreed.

Rick tapped my shoulder as he passed, making me leave the room just after him. I glanced back over my shoulder, waiting for Daryl and T-Dog, but Rick called my name.

"C'mon," he said.

I nodded, following closely behind him. The quiet footsteps behind me signalled that Daryl and T-Dog had caught up with us after whatever they had said to the prisoners. I didn't have it in my to listen at the time.

I couldn't stop thinking about the events of the day, and the fact that we were heading back to the cell block reminded me of Hershel. We didn't know if he'd died at some point while we were in the prison, what everyone else was dealing with back in the cell block. The idea of the worst thing happening was hard to think about.

The walk back was quiet, careful, in case there were any walkers we missed before getting the prisoners into their cell block. It was easier to backtrack the way we came, and I noted that we would have to clear the body out of the hallways soon so the rotting smell didn't get worse than it already was.

Carl greeted us as we neared Hershel's cell, immediately updating us on the farmer's condition. "Hershel stopped breathing," Carl said, which almost stopped my heart until he continued, "mom saved him."

"It's true," Glenn nodded.

"Still no fever," Lori added.

He was alive, but I couldn't bring myself any closer to the cell to see for myself. Rick and some others walked in to see him, but I just stood back, metres away from the room. Glenn placed a hand on my shoulder before following him into the cell.

When everyone was distracted, I turned, walking back to my own room. I had to get this gear off, it was almost suffocating.

I hadn't been in my room for a little while, just sat against the wall behind the head of the cot, finally able to rest for a few moments. It was hard though, knowing those two prisoners were just a cell block away.

Rick got my attention, his shadow blocking the light coming through my doorway. "Hey," he said.

"Hey . . . How . . ." I took a breath. "How's Hershel?"

"He woke up," Rick said. "He's okay now. You can go and see him if you want."

I shook my head, pulling my knees up to the bed and leaning back against the wall begins the cot.

Rick sat down at the end of the bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and he rubbed the back of one hand with the other. "I know today was hard. I didn't wanna drag you out there, but with Glenn here I needed someone else. You shouldn't have seen any of that."

"It's not that," I shook my head.

"Then what?"

"It's just . . . Is this what we do now? Everywhere we go, we kill people," It was hard to piece together what I wanted to say, because part of me was worried about the killing, but that wasn't the whole issue.

"I know," Rick took a second before he started again. "I swear I wanted to keep you away from that stuff. After the bar, winter."

"I was ready this time," I said. "I would've done it if I had to."

"I didn't want to put that pressure on you. And with everything, yesterday, Hershel—"

"—It's not you," I stopped him. "You didn't . . . This week has been different. And maybe it's because of that, but I would've done it. I know that today I would've done it. I didn't care."

Rick was staring at me as I spoke, not scared or shocked at what I was saying, but seemingly like he understood. He had killed people because he had to, for his family, and he knew what it was like to do it.

"I just don't want that to be normal," I finished.

"Hey, this is never gonna get normal. Not for you," The next thing he said came out quieter, like he was trying to convince himself he was right. "It can't."

I glanced up, and Rick had stared ahead at the wall for a moment before meeting my eyes.

"I can't say you're never going to have to kill, it could happen. But I don't know how it would ever start to get normal for you," he said. "It's going to hurt too much, whoever it is."

That I believed.