It was way too quiet. I felt very impatient as we turned each corner; everywhere I had been expecting to see a small army of people, there was no one. Not even walkers. Daryl led us between massive silos, jumping over pipes as he silently ran forwards.

Still, there was nobody.

It wasn't just me that was worried about this, I could see the look on Rick's face as we continued our search. Every time we turned a corner and found no one, no people or cars, his jaw tightened, or he shook his head before moving straight on to the next place.

We had to make sure we checked everywhere, because we had never been here before. I was better if I knew the environment, I felt better. Not knowing anything had me feeling like we were back in Woodbury, wandering around enemy territory until we finally found something.

When the two of them stopped between some silos, I decided to voice my concerns. "What if they're using this time to attack the prison?"

"Andrea set this up," Daryl reminded us, but I couldn't tell whether that meant he thought this was okay or whether he was just as worried about the situation as I was. Not until he continued, glancing at Rick. "Maybe he forced her to do it."

Oh great.

I'd never even considered that anything like that could've happened until now. If he'd done that, then he didn't need Andrea anymore. She could be dead, and now here we were potentially walking right into a trap the Governor knew we wouldn't be able to walk away from.

"I don't like this," I mumbled.

"I don't like it either," Rick agreed. "If we can't find anyone soon, we get Hershel, and we leave. We don't know if he made her do this. I'm not risking him attacking the group while we aren't there."

We continued until we actually came across a building we could enter, a wooden shed almost the side of a house. The walls were patched with corrugated metal and planks. Rick whistled, nodding for me to go inside while he followed Daryl around.

I raised my gun and entered the shed.

It was so dark, and dusty. Random things were stored, cluttered inside: signs, mechanical parts, random furniture scattered around. The layout had no inkling of organisation, which was nothing out of the blue for a storage place like this. It just looked like the large scale version of being in someone's garage, full of junk.

I had made it so far into the room, where there was a raised platform area with a table in the centre. The sun shone down through a hole in the ceiling, and I squinted a little and glanced up. I looked at the table, confused at it being in an odd place in what seemed like a storage building.

The placement of this, in the middle of nothing with only two chairs around it, made me think that it could have been set up there on purpose. It was suspicious, leaving me with a funny feeling at the pit of my stomach. I needed to check it out.

I was about to squat and look under it when I heard someone clear their throat. Footsteps then stopped me from moving any further, and I stood back up immediately. It wasn't hard to pinpoint the noise in this single room, and when I did, I spun around and raised my weapon.

There he was, down the barrel of my gun. The bloodied bandage over his eye had been replaced with a patch, exactly like a pirate costume. It was somehow more intimidating than when I had seen him in the middle of the arena. The black patch matched the dark coloured he seemed to often wear in his clothes

What continued to bother me was that he came here alone, completely alone. Not a single one of his soldiers were here to defend him, which was odd unless he didn't tell anyone. But why? I had only seen one of his people opposed to killing us, and he only let me go because of my age. He would've gunned down anyone else.

Andrea wasn't here either, so it immediately crossed my mind that he could have hurt her, but then why show up for the meeting? If he hurt someone, then we weren't going to get anywhere in the negotiation. If that had happened then he wasn't here for a negotiation.

He raised his hands, letting out a breathy laugh as his lips twisted into a smile. "You must be the girl that was hiding in one of my buildings. Ace, was it?"

He knew my name? How? It had been called a few times when I got separated in the streets, and maybe he had been there shooting in the streets to hear the yells. Maybe Merle had ratted me out, I wasn't sure. However he got a hold of that, it creeped me out that he even used it in the first place. I hated him already.

"I heard about what you did, making a smoke bomb, very clever," he commented.

I had nothing to say, because that escape was not just the working of myself. I decided not to rat out the man who didn't kill me in Woodbury. If there was someone who distrusted the Governor, ignored the obvious shoot-to-kill order I heard so much about, then maybe he would be willing to sabotage his own group in other ways. Saying what he had done would only get him killed, and I'm sure he only let me go because there was no one around to tell the Governor what he did.

Refusing to lower my gun, I just stared at him, partly wondering if there was a point to all of this. I was also curious if this complementing was a manipulation technique, because Merle said he was good at that.

Maybe he assumed I was just a naive kid, that I had just been dragged to Woodbury to help our people. That I didn't understand the ramifications or situation that had taken place when Merle kidnapped our people. Whatever the strategy was, it was really starting to get on my nerves. I felt so angry and scared at the same time.

Maybe that was the point.

"Is Rick here?" He questioned, now lowering his hands, clapping them against the front of his legs. My gaze shot down to his hands, where he had his gun holstered, but he noticed the reaction and held his hands up, much lower than before. Then he continued, "We just need a little discussion, is all. See if we can put a stop to all this unnecessary killing."

I squinted, and scoffed, slowly shaking my head. "Is that what you told your people? It is, isn't it? That we were unprovoked?" I asked. "You can stop bullshitting me. I was there when Glenn and Maggie were kidnapped, I saw the cells you were keeping them in. And I know what you did."

He shrugged his shoulders, which annoyed me even more. "It was Merle that tortured Glenn."

"I wasn't talking about Glenn," I stated. "Besides, who knows what manipulation you used on Merle."

The Governor huffed a single chuckle, glancing to the side as a new smile was present on his face. I wanted to shoot him for it, being able to smile after what he'd done to Maggie, the fact that he'd even laugh about it. This was even before Michonne had killed his 'daughter', which meant that he was always bad enough to do something as evil as that.

"How's the chest?" He looked back at me and smirked, his eyes glancing down at the gear. "You know, my aim has been terrible since I lost my eye."

The question was out of the blue, but I understood the meaning. He was not afraid to kill me, he'd already tried. The fact that I was wearing the same gear, now with crack and a groove where the bullet had scraped was enough proof of that.

At least his manipulation tactic was over, and the fact that he was saying these things meant that I knew where I stood with him. He wanted me dead, just as much as I wanted him dead. What I couldn't work out was whether he would've done that if I hadn't fought him at Woodbury.

I couldn't help the smile that appeared on my face, but I knew my face was completely baffled. Why say any of this when he's supposed to work things out with Rick? Maybe he did force Andrea to make this meeting so he could use it to take us out. He seemed to be enjoying pissing me off, which meant that he probably just wanted to have his fun before killing us.

Whatever it was, the smile when he said that he was not afraid to kill me, it made me uneasy. I had always been creeped out by the Governor, but this was different. This was very personal, showing that he definitely had it out for me.

"You're something else," I shook my head as I stared at him.

He seemed to take my confused expression and shock at his threat and ran with it. "Was it not you who killed five of my men?"

"That was a mistake," I began.

He seemed genuinely confused. "A mistake?"

"I should've killed you."

He seemed amused, turning his head and pressing his fists to his lips. Maybe he didn't believe me, which was fine. I assumed that I was not the most threatening person, but I was a hundred percent serious with my regrets.

If he did believe me then he probably just used that information to show that I didn't kill him for a more specific reason, that I kept him alive because I didn't want to miss or shoot an innocent. Maybe he was using it as a way of understanding me better, now knowing that I wouldn't shoot him if it meant someone else was going to get hurt.

"You're in over your head," he smiled, clearly showing that he thought I was weak with the information I'd just given him.

But I wasn't weak.

I could do this.

None of his people were here, he was completely alone. If I killed him now then there would be no backlash on Rick or Daryl, his group may not even find out for a while, giving us time to come up with a plan to deal with the disgruntled soldiers at Woodbury.

He didn't even have a gun on me, so there was no getting caught in any crossfire. No chance of getting shot before I could kill him. We could just leave. What was the point of talking? Nothing was going to be fixed here.

Do it! My mind was screaming at me. Just kill him—

"—Ace," Rick's voice stopped me.

My jaw clenched, and I turned back to Rick who was standing in the doorway. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking at the Governor, but he walked my way. Why? Why did he have to walk in now? I was so close to pulling the trigger and he ruined it. That might've been his plan, but I don't care what he thought. I could've done this so no one else had to. This could've been on my shoulders, not his. Rick didn't need this after everything.

He placed his hand on top of my gun and pushed it down, and I stared at him. "Go with Daryl."

I shook my head, "I haven't checked—"

Rick glanced at me, but nodded his head for me to leave.

I pursed my lips and stared at the Governor, but took a step back and left through the same door I came in. Daryl was waiting around the side, near a window into the shed. He waved a hand towards him when he saw me.

Daryl made no attempt to move now I had found him, and stayed planted next to the window, his head looking my way so he would have a better chance hearing what they were talking about. I did the same as him, leaning my head against the wooden planks used as a wall.

I could hear the Governor again. "We have a lot to talk about."

"You attacked us," Rick said. "Makes things pretty clear."

"I was trying to make things clear," the Governor said. "I could've killed you all, I didn't."

"You telling me you just wanted to injure Ace?"

"That was an unfortunate miss," I felt my chest tighten at that statement, and my eyes shot to Daryl. "I've seen the things she could do, had men cleaning up debris from her crafts. And then the arena. She could be a real detriment to my people if things got worse between us."

I know his threat inside was real, that he really tried killing me and it was just bad luck that I had the armour on. But I assumed that he had tried killing us, me and the rest of the group. Apparently, what I didn't realise was that he didn't intend on killing everyone. Just me. I was just a target, left in a very bad place during the shoot out.

Now that I think about it, he really tried to kill me after I got hit.

There was a long pause before I heard Rick again, alongside the click of a gun. "And here we are."

The Governor spoke about how he was going to remove his gun, and wanted Rick to do the same thing like that was ever going to happen. I wasn't watching to see if he had done anything like that, but Daryl seemed convinced when he straightened up.

"Come on," Daryl nodded his head, indicating I should follow him.

As we made it out to what seemed like a construction site, I heard the Hyundai as it pulled up in front of us, Hershel looking out of the window as he stopped. Daryl marched over to him, ready to explain everything that was going on.

"He's already in there," Daryl explained. "Sat down with Rick."

"I don't see any cars," Hershel pointed out.

"It don' feel right," Daryl muttered. "Keep it running."

I glanced around, when I realised that Hershel was right. There were no other cars, so what did the Governor use to get here? Part of me wanted to fuck with his car, mess it up in some way, but it was nowhere in sight, and knowing what I knew now, maybe that was on purpose.

Smart.

Only a few seconds later I heard the roar of an engine. It sounded big, bigger than the Hyundai that we'd used today. Still, it left me with more questions than answers. Why were his people only here now?

"Heads up," Daryl patted the bonnet of the Hyundai.

I turned, watching as a truck raced towards us, and pulled out the handgun. Hershel got up and aimed a gun over the car. Daryl raised his crossbow which I immediately deemed as pretty useless against a truck if they were ready to start shooting the minute they pulled in.

But they didn't.

Andrea got out of the truck, along with the Mexican man who spared my life back in Woodbury, and some other guy wearing glasses. He looked like an accountant. The three of them looked between us, the Mexican smirking and staring at each of the weapons, his mouth open with a smile.

"What the hell?" Daryl called to Andrea. "Why's your boy already in there?"

"He's here?"

If you didn't know where he was, why come? These questions nagged at me as she marched to the corrugated metal building and slid open a door that I wasn't aware of when I was inside the building. I saw the Governor at a table for a second, but turned my attention back to the other two people.

She didn't come back out after a while, and I guessed she was making herself to be some kind of mediator. Despite her being there, helping or whatever, I still doubted anything would be achieved from this talk. We all knew what was wrong: the Governor wanted us dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the competition and we would've been fine keeping to ourselves and ignoring Woodbury. I personally would be happy enough pretending it never existed.

Hershel had gotten out of the car after a while, and Daryl stood next to him, the both of them staring at the other men in case they did anything. Across the way, at their truck, the man with the glasses was leaning against the car, scribbling in some book that I couldn't really see.

I perched myself on the bonnet of the Hyundai, legs crossed as I had now gotten bored of all the waiting around. Again, I didn't see the point in talking when nothing was going to be resolved. The Governor had slaughtered groups just for being in the area, which meant that there was nothing we could say to make him stop. There was certainly nothing he could say to get us to trust him.

"Maybe I should go inside," Hershel suggested after a while.

"The Governor thought it best if he and Rick spoke alone," the man behind spoke up.

Oh, because we do so care about what the Governor thinks. I rolled my eyes and scoffed, leaning down and resting my head in my hands, elbows digging into my legs. The fact that they had put no effort into raising their guns, and it seemed like the man wearing glasses didn't even have one, that this may not turn into an all out fight. But I was already bored and if a fight broke out I doubted I would be ready.

Daryl squinted at him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Milton," the man said. "Mamet."

"Great," Daryl glanced back at me with a smirk. "He brought his butler."

A smile worked its way onto my face, and even the man who saved me was chuckling, until Milton said: "At least we didn't bring our cheerleader."

My head shot up from my hands, and I looked around confused. What the fuck did I do?

"And if you must know, I'm his advisor," Milton continued, still scribbling in the book behind the Mexican guy. He didn't even spare us a glance, which I considered to be extremely rude, even in a war.

"What kind of advice?" Daryl asked.

He stopped, looked ahead and sighed, before finally glancing at us. "Planning. Biters."

"So, jack shit, really?" The grin never left my face as I said that, knowing I was right. This even warranted a laugh from the soldier in front of him, telling me that he too agreed with my stance on his job, or the lack thereof.

"Uh, you know, I'm sorry. I don't feel like I need to explain myself to the henchmen," Milton said.

"You better watch your mouth, sunshine," Daryl said, taking a few steps forward.

"Look, if you and I are gonna be out here pointing guns at each other all day, do me a favour?" The Mexican said. "Shut your mouth."

Daryl sighed, walking towards him and the man pushed himself away from the car to square up to him. I straightened out, getting my hands ready on my gun in case anything happened. The man was shorter than Daryl, but had more mass, and was just as intimidating as he squinted. They each waited for one of them to make a move.

Hershel stopped them, "We don't need this. If all goes south in there, we'll be at each other's throats soon enough."

They continued to stare at each other for a moment, but Daryl was the one to turn away, and start walking back towards me and Hershel.

It wasn't long after that when Andrea came back out of the doorway. Her eyes landed on all of us, but she didn't act like she really wanted to talk over whatever just happened in there. She shook her head and stepped to the side, sitting down in front of the building.

Great, I thought. Seems like it's going well.

Everyone was bored shortly after me. The soldier sat down against the wheel of their car, staring out at the silos and other buildings ahead of us. Hershel stood off to the side, now fully on his crutches and Daryl paced around, letting out a random sigh every so often.

Milton had also been walking around for a little while as well, until he decided to address the group. "There's no reason not to use this time we have together to explore the issues ourselves."

The soldier seemed less than impressed with the idea. "Boss said to sit tight and shut up."

"Don't you mean the Governor?" Daryl tilted his head, and the soldier rolled his eyes.

Milton stared at them for a second, before he took a step forward. "It's a good thing they're sitting down, especially after what happened. They're gonna work it out. Nobody wants another battle."

My head shot up, and I was suddenly very angry. Battle? Part of me thought this was some of the lies the Governor had been spreading to his people to keep the peace, but Milton had been so proud of his high ranking position in Woodbury. He worked with the Governor, helping him decide their next moves.

Either he knew about what was going on, which meant that him calling what happened to my people a 'battle' was the biggest insult ever. The other alternative was that he actually believed the fight between us was just that, and in that case I was angry that he was even here, trying to talk about Rick and the Governor discussing what happened like he had any idea what was going on.

"I wouldn't exactly call it a battle," Daryl beat me to it.

"I would call it a battle and I did. I recorded it," Milton held the small brown book up for us to see. If I wasn't in so much pain I would be ready to fight over this, ready to scream and yell about what he was saying.

"Is that what you believe it was?" I snapped. "Our people get kidnapped and beaten and almost executed and you think you can call it a battle? Was what happened to them a part of your advice?"

Milton went quiet, but I was still angry. The soldier glanced over at my outburst, and I could see Andrea staring at me out the corner of my eye. I opened my mouth, ready to say more, but Hershel cleared his throat. When I looked at him, he just shook his head.

I stood up, turning away and walking around the back of our car, the most space I could really give myself without completely leaving my people alone during this time. Anything could happen and I needed to be here for that.

"You said you recorded it," I heard Hershel from the front of he car. "What does that mean?"

"Yeah," Daryl jumped in. "For what?"

Milton seemed hesitant, but I did eventually hear his answer. "Somebody's got to keep a record of what we've gone through. It'll be a part of our history."

"That makes sense," Hershel said, seemingly impressed.

Milton seemed happier now someone agreed with his idea, "I've got dozens of interviews—"

The sound of bangs rang out, and I glanced to the source of the noise. With the way Milton and the soldier reacted, the sound was most definitely walkers. There was no way they would've been this curious if it was something that set up amongst themselves.

I pulled out my pick, following Daryl to the source of the noise. When I heard footsteps behind me, I saw Andrea and the soldier also heading our way. The soldier was twirling a baseball bat in his hands as he followed us. Kind of impressive.

The walkers were around a different group of silos. The soldier and Daryl had gotten ahead of me and Andrea, and the two of them stopped, just staring at the number of dead. But neither of them moved forward.

Daryl turned to the man, and waved his hand towards the walkers, "After you."

The man faced him and pointed the bat in the same direction. "No, hey. You first."

I could hear Andrea scoff beside me, and she pushed past the two of them, letting out a yell as she took a knife to the first and closest walker. It fell to the ground in front of her, and she looked back at the two of them waiting for them to do something.

The man smirked, glancing at Daryl. "Pussy."

He started spinning the bat again, waving it around in some weird way before he slammed it down against a walker, smashing the head and squashing it against the silo. It was pretty gross, making me cringe at the amount of blood it splattered.

The man looked back at Daryl with a huge smile on his face, but Daryl shrugged.

The two of them moved forward to take out the next group was walkers. They were kind of hidden around the silo, and I moved across to see what was going on, wondering whether the soldier might take this opportunity to attack Daryl or something. Part of me assumed this was some kind of set up, seeing as now we knew the Governor was not opposed to letting walkers loose on people.

As I watched them, Andrea came up beside me. "Come on," she nodded, telling me to leave them kill the corpses. "Let them play 'Who's got the bigger dick?'"

Is that what they were doing?

Really it was all I thought about as we walked away from the silos. I assumed that Daryl tried making the man go ahead so he didn't get stabbed in the back or something, which was the smartest move he could have made. Maybe the man was turning it into some kind of game, and that's why Daryl kept the unimpressed look on his face.

Whatever, it seemed stupid.

Andrea was quiet as we walked, her first and only question was, "How's Miche?"

Miche? Michonne, I was guessing. "She's okay," I answered.

"Good . . . We didn't end on the best terms," she said needlessly.

I saw their faces when they both came back into the prison the other day, and it didn't take a genius to see that they had argued about something. I didn't know what, but I also knew that it was none of my business.

When we made it back, Andrea left me to go sit down the side of the building, near where she saw Hershel and Milton talking. I didn't go that way, not interested in seeing or even speaking to Milton again, now I knew his views on the attacks.

It all just made me so angry and I wished there was something I could do to feel better about all this, but I couldn't think of anything. Not until I realised that I was now here all alone, with their car. I couldn't see Hershel or the others, which meant that they couldn't see me either.

I stared at their car and got an idea.

The plan I had would barely take minutes, but it would ensure that their car would not start. It would just be a funny way to mess with them after the pain they'd caused us, leaving them stranded here a little longer. It was far less than what they deserved, but it was the most I could do to their car without starting a war.

From what I saw when the soldier had gotten his bat from the car, he left it unlocked. I snuck around to open the door, and then the bonnet. I propped the bonnet up, looking down at the engine for a second, grinning as I thought about what I was going to do.

I grabbed the spark plug lead, and twisted them before pulling it out of the car. The car would not start without them. When I pulled each wire out, I dropped the bonnet and walked the wires over to the Hyundai, dropping them in the back seat.

No one saw me.

And I didn't have to wait too long for their reactions.

Daryl and the soldier came back just before the Governor came out of the building. I stared at him as he just smiled, looking at me, Daryl and Hershel before telling the others that they were leaving. I just hoped we could get out of here before they tried turning the car on.

Rick came out next, and gestured for us to get straight in the car, so I climbed in the back, leaving Hershel in the front passenger seat. Daryl climbed onto his bike in front of us, starting it and waiting until he heard the sound from the car.

Just as Rick started to move, slowly pulling forward, the sound of an engine cranking, unable to turnover, got my attention. Excitement bubbled inside of me as I stared out the window, looking at the Governor's car, seeing his disgruntled face as he popped the hood of the engine as he and the soldier climbed out of the car.

I grinned, reaching back to grab the leads before leaning out the window and shouting, "Goodbye, Dickhead!"

I threw the wires out the window, and was able to flip them off before Rick pulled away, leaving the Governor and his people stranded at the abandoned buildings. When I looked forward, I could see Hershel chuckling, and Rick's lips had twisted upwards, his head shaking as he smiled at my prank.

Back at the prison, Rick gathered everybody together to explain what he and the Governor talked about in the peace meeting. He didn't say anything to me and Hershel the whole ride back, which seemed weird, but he walked through the common room and stood in front of the stairs, looking at all of us.

"I met with this Governor," he was nodding. "Sat down with him for a while."

"Just the two of you?" Merle walked.

Rick nodded.

Merle walked in front of me, stopping next to Glenn as he muttered, "Should've gone when we had the chance, bro."

I wondered what he meant, and I looked to Glenn for answers, but he wasn't going to give me any, his eyes locked on Rick. Merle squeezed past everyone, and Rick waited until he was done to continue.

"He wants the prison," Rick announced. "He wants us gone. He wants us dead for what we did to Woodbury."

There was a small pause, and I stared at him expectantly.

"We're going to war."