CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"We're All Gonna Be Just Fine"

Alex sat in a chair in the lobby of the mall, tapping his foot nervously on the ground, the sole of his shoe leaving reverberations in the tiled floor of the building. He had his fingers steepled over his face, peering around them at the wall as the sounds of the walkers groaning and banging on the door had finally begun to dissipate.

Footsteps sounded to his left, and Alex sat in silence for a moment before glancing to his side. "Hey, Sage," he muttered, glancing to his feet. Sage pulled a chair across from his friend as he dropped down, arms draped over his knees. He looked at Alex for a moment, but the impromptu leader of the group didn't provide anything else.

"Are you okay?"

Alex let out a dry chuckle, looking up into Sage's pale face. "Not really, no."

Sage sucked in a sharp breath, about to speak, before Alex continued, "I . . . I froze up out there, man." Alex shook his head, clapping his hands together softly. "We got cornered, and . . . and I froze up."

"Alex, you didn't—"

"No, Sage, I did. Everyone was afraid, and what did I do? Nothing. I didn't do a thing to step up." His head shook nervously, and Sage saw water slowly fill his eyes. "Elsa . . . she was so afraid. So terrified when she realized that we were trapped out in that street. She asked if we were stuck out here and I just . . . gave up."

Sage swallowed hard. "Alex—look around you. We're inside. We have shelter."

"Yeah, and at what cost?" Alex said, his voice raising a little more. Sage glanced to the gathering of the others; he hoped Alex wouldn't draw too much attention, as the others were still trying to collect themselves after all that had happened. "Brian's been bitten. He has . . . what, hours? Hours until he dies?" Alex sighed deeply. "If I would've acted faster, then maybe we could've done something—I could have done something."

"Hey." Sage said the word firmly and solidly, his gaze settling hard on Alex. "Don't talk like that. It could have happened to anybody. That is not on you. It was just—just an unfortunate accident." Deep inside, Sage felt the raw pain that knowing one of their own was mere hours away from death caused. In a few hours, they would be without one of their most valuable members, Emily would be without her husband, and Brennan and Caitlyn would be without their father.

Sage glanced over towards Annie, who was sitting in a circle with all of the children, petting Raha—all of the children aside from Caitlyn. She was huddled with her mother, a few feet away from her father as she looked at him, unmoving. Against his better judgment, Sage let himself wonder, What if that had been me that had gotten bit? What would happen to Annie? Would the group be able to watch her?

Sage shook his head, willing those thoughts to disappear. He could not let himself fall into the trap that what-ifs created. They brought nothing but a sense of longing for a future that was unattainable—at least, very nearly unattainable.

"We'll have to take care of Emily. And Brennan. And Caitlyn," Alex said slowly.

Sage nodded. "Of course. We take care of our own." He glanced over, his eyes settling on the newest survivors that they had met. "We've got more people now too. Glenn, his people, and Rick—they all seem fairly level-headed. If Glenn's group is welcoming, then we'd have nearly a community to be part of."

Alex nodded solemnly. "You're right. It could be a saving grace, having a whole community of survivors looking out for each other. We'd have safety in numbers, that's for sure."

"Yeah—and we could send more people on runs without worrying about leaving the camp unprotected." Sage, against his better judgment, let a smile come to his lips. "I think we'll do fine. Just fine."

Alex glanced up to him, smiling softly as well. "Yeah. I guess maybe you're right." A brief pause, then he added, "Thanks, Sage."

Sage nodded, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "Of course, man. Just get some rest. We're gonna need all we can get for the push out of here."

Sage wandered over towards the gathering of survivors, who had been discussing amongst one another different details concerning their backgrounds, how they got to where they were now, and pretty much all they had done thus far in surviving. Some were quieter than others—for instance, Nigel and Sam hadn't spoken up too much, whereas Allie, Iago, and Glenn were more vocal in explaining their stories.

Allie scooted over on the bench she had claimed as her seat, patting the open spot next to her as Sage dropped down into it, leaning back as Jacqui passed him a water bottle, which he accepted graciously with a "thank you."

"So," Morales said, nodding to Rick, who was sitting squarely between Andrea and Glenn, "what's your story, Rick? How'd a small-town deputy like you end up in Atlanta in the middle of the apocalypse?"

Rick let out a sarcastic laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. "Well, it's a long story. But I can give a summarized version for you all. I had gotten shot back in my town and was in the hospital, in a coma when all this went down. I woke up, barricaded in my room, whenever I made it out. A man and his boy, they helped me get straight and get to my station. That's where I got my uniform and that bag of guns out there in the street. I rode in here on that horse after my car ran out of gas and—well, that's how I got here."

"So, what's your plan?" Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow. "Have anywhere in particular you were headed?"

"Well," Rick started again, "I was just trying to get here. My wife, she has family up this way and whenever I heard that Atlanta was being set up as a safe zone, I had figured she and my boy had gotten here and taken up refuge." He paused, and his eyes looked as if he had finally made the realization that Atlanta was anything but safe. "Now, though . . . I don't know where they could be."

A grim silence fell over the group. "Well," Morales said, sighing, "I think you all will be welcome in our camp. We've been slowly building our numbers with good, trustworthy survivors, and if the way you all have interacted with one another is any indication, I think you fit the bill perfectly."

Sahale's eyes widened. "You mean . . . we can stay with your group?" the little boy beamed enthusiastically, glancing to his grandfather with a big smile. Nigel gave him a slim smile in return; despite his fears and apprehension when it came to new people, he still felt a sense of relief in knowing that there'd be more people around to watch over him and his grandson.

Morales nodded, a smile on his own face. "Yes, little one. And we've got more kids back at our camp as well, so all of you will have more new friends to make once we arrive." The children all began to chatter amongst one another excitedly; evidently, the promise of more kids for them to play with was a great dose of good news to them all.

Their excited chirping between one another was cut short by a gunshot ringing out, then another, and then another. Several members of the group jumped to their feet. "What the hell was that?" Iago said, glancing around—the shots came from above.

"Dixon, dammit," Morales mumbled. Upon seeing the confused looks from the newest survivors, he sighed. "The last member of our group. He was supposed to be taking watch, but a lot of help he turned out to be since he didn't see any of you all coming." He turned and muttered a string of Spanish expletives as he stomped towards the stairwell. Rick got to his feet and followed as well, with T-Dog, Glenn, Dayana, Allie, and Sage getting to their feet.

Sage turned to the rest of his group, holding out a hand and saying, "The rest of you, wait here—we'll be back in a few." He glanced to Iago and said, "Keep a watch on those doors." Iago nodded and turned, keeping a careful eye on the doors in case any walkers decided to try and return to their act of attempting to break down the doors.

Morales flung open the door leading to the rooftop of the building, leading the small group out into the sunlight as they saw a lone figure standing on the overhang of the building, firing with a scoped rifle into the streets below.

"BOOM!" the man yelled with a gleeful laugh as he fired another shot.

"Dixon!" Morales shouted. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Yeah, man!" T-Dog joined in. "You're wasting ammo that we ain't even got, man!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the man said in a lackadaisical manner, turning around and brandishing his rifle. He had a cocky and partly psychotic smile on his lips, his weathered features giving off an air of both someone who had seen some things but still had an almost youthful energy about him. "You ought to be more polite to a man with a gun. It's only common sense."

"Man, just chill out," T-Dog retorted, shaking his head.

The other man jumped from his perch, cradling his rifle in both hands. "And who the hell do you think you are, 'man'? Huh? Think I'm just gonna bow down and take orders from you, boy?" he spat, adding hard emphasis on the final word.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dayana retorted, picking up on the man's insinuation.

"It means what the hell it sounds like."

"Bro, what the hell is your problem," T-Dog continued before the man swung the butt of his rifle out, cracking the bigger man across the face and sending him careening to the ground, a splatter of blood splashing.

"Hey, Merle, calm down!" Morales shouted, grabbing for the other guy—Merle—before he swung out with his right fist, sending Morales sprawling backwards.

Rick's face stiffened as he stepped towards Merle, but he swung his rifle again, cracking Rick across the head and sending him to his knees, grabbing onto a pipe for stability.

Glenn held his hands up, saying, "Whoa, Merle, man, calm down, calm down!" before Merle grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forcing him out of the way as he began to pummel T-Dog with blows from his fists and feet.

Allie, Dayana, Morales, Glenn, and Sage began to yell at him, imploring him to stop as T-Dog squirmed on the ground, crying out in pain as each blow connected. Dayana, finally, dropped a hand to one of the Berettas on her belt as Sage held out a hand hurriedly, attempting to extinguish the turmoil before anything else happened. But it was too late, as Merle leveled his rifle on her.

"It seems to me we've got a bit of a situation on our hands," Merle said, his slack-jawed expression giving way to another cocky smile. "And by situation, I mean a little misunderstanding. First of all, I don't even know who the hell you guys are," he said, waving his gun at Dayana, Sage, and Allie, "and second of all, I don't think I'm about to be taking orders from any of you other asshats. So, I think I'm gonna take it upon myself to nominate a new leader—me." He chuckled and grinned, raising his hand. "So, everyone in favor of making me our new leader, signify by raising your hands." When no one raised their hands, Merle chuckled and said, "Or don't, it don't really matter." He glanced around at the group and said, "Any objections?"

"Yeah." Merle glanced over his shoulder to see Rick standing directly beside him as the officer swung out with his revolver, cracking the loudmouth over the head. As Merle collapsed, Rick pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt and snapped them around Merle's right wrist, clamping the other cuff around a small pipe.

"Ah, shit," Merle muttered as he rubbed his forehead. "Who the hell are you, man?"

"Officer Friendly," Rick snarled in his ear as he hoisted Merle up, slamming him into a larger pipe. "Now, let's get something straight here, right off the bat, alright? Whatever prejudices you have mean nothing anymore. Understand me? Now, it's just the living and the dead. They don't care what you look like, just how you taste. And if we're going to survive this, we're going to have to work together. Do I make myself clear?"

Merle grimaced, grunting in pain, as Rick drove Merle even harder into the pipe. "Do I make myself clear?"

Merle grunted again, fixing his eyes on Rick as he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you do, Officer Friendly."

Rick let loose of Merle's shirt as he turned and stepped over to T-Dog, gripping one of his hands as Morales grabbed another and they lifted the big man up. Rick passed Morales Merle's rifle as he glanced to the others, who had been watching him in silent awe. Allie glanced to Dayana and, chuckling, muttered, "Score one for Officer Friendly." Dayana nodded as Rick stopped in front of Sage.

"We've gotta figure out something out here," he murmured. He glanced to Morales and continued, "Is this guy always like this?"

Morales shrugged, throwing his hands up. "I mean . . . yeah? Kinda? He's always been a loudmouth, but he's never quite as violent as that. That's really the first time he's blown up like that."

"Regardless," Rick continued, "we can't have someone going around, blowing up like that over something as simple as reminding him to conserve ammo."

From his chained state at the pipe, Merle spoke up, "Hey, y'all done having a meeting of Congress over there? How about you let me outta these things and I can show you how much I've had a change of heart." He let out a guffaw as if he'd heard the funniest joke, glancing around as if his keys to freedom lay around him somewhere on the rooftop.

Rick shook his head. "I dunno, does anyone else have any ideas?"

"Put a bullet in his brain?" Dayana offered. Everyone looked at her, unsure of if she was kidding or not.

"Huh?" Merle called exasperatedly from the pipe, although the others all ignored him.

"I'm afraid not," Rick said, hands on his hips. "But I think it'd be a good idea to maybe leave him chained here till we get ready to go. I, for one, don't really think I'd like him running around and running off at the mouth down on the inside—or having access to a gun."

"I second that," Sage added.

Morales threw up his hands. "Well, I suppose so. We can't leave him alone, though."

T-Dog eyed Merle. "I'll stay. I'll keep a watch on him."

Rick threw a sidelong glance at the big man. "You sure about that? I don't want you to—you know . . ."

T-Dog laughed. "Don't worry, man. I wouldn't hurt him. Just talk to him is all . . . if I must."

Rick sighed. "Well, sounds good to me." He reached to his belt and withdrew the handcuff keys, passing them to T-Dog. "Just hold onto these until we get back up."

T-Dog nodded, taking the keys and slipping them into his pocket as Morales passed him Merle's rifle. As he took a seat on an air vent, the others all dispersed, reentering the stairwell and heading back downstairs into the building.

As the group descended the stairs back into the building, the others slowly approached them, looks of concern on their faces, especially when seeing the bruise on Rick's forehead.

"Is everything good up there?" Alex asked quizzically, eyeing his sister and Sage with concern.

Sage sighed as Andrea added, looking around in bewilderment, "Where's T-Dog?"

"Dixon lost it," Morales cut in. "Started spouting off at the mouth, started beating Tee—"

"Oh my God," Jacqui whispered. "Is he okay?"

Glenn nodded. "Yeah, yeah, he's taking watch right now. Rick cuffed him to the roof."

"Cuffed him to the roof?" Iago snorted a laugh. "Was that necessary?"

"You didn't see him up there," Allie said. "He was going off, beating T-Dog and saying terrible things." She looked at Rick, giving him a nod of affirmation. "It was the right move. Until he cools down a bit."

Sage glanced over a table where Brian, Emily, Caitlyn, and Brennan were sitting, speaking quietly amongst themselves. He departed from the others, walking to the family. "Hey, guys. How are you doing?" In retrospect, he realized that may have not been the best thing to ask them—but it was too late to take it back now.

"As well as can be expected," Brian said, flashing his best attempt at a smile. But Sage could see beneath the mask he was wearing; Brian was in pain, and his flushed, paling face showed that he was not in too good of health.

"He's burning up with a fever," Emily whispered, brushing stray locks of her hair from her forehead. Her hair had once been a golden color, years ago, but now it was slowly getting some streaks of gray. Whereas Brian's brown hair had been passed onto their son, Caitlyn had adopted her mother's lighter shade. Emily glanced to Sage, her eyes raw from the tears she had cried. "I don't know how much longer he has."

Sage nodded, then dropped to a knee beside Brian. "How much longer do you feel you have?"

Brian grimaced before shaking his head. "Not much. All I know is I don't want to wait until it's too late."

Sage sighed before giving a grim nod of understanding. "I can round the others all up. I'm sure they want to say their goodbyes."

Brian fought back tears as he nodded in reply. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Different members of the groups—both faces that Brian had grown to know and trust over the short time they had known each other, and some that he had just met in the last few hours—came by to wish him their sorrows and give the same wishes to his family, although most of their reactions came in the form of meager nods and short acknowledgements of thanks.

It was Rick Grimes who came next, scratching the back of his neck as he came to the dying man. "I-I'm sorry this happened," Rick said first, struggling to find the words. Swallowing hard, he added, "Just know that you can rest easy knowing that me, and the rest of the others, are going to do everything we can to help your family keep moving and fighting in this world. You have my word on that."

Brian nodded. "Thank you." He paused, grunting slightly—the infection was coursing through his body, he knew that well enough. But no use in letting the pain keep you down. "I can tell you're a good man, Rick, and a man of your word." Brian glanced over to his family, his eyes settling in on each one before he turned back to the cop before him. "I hope you find your family. They're gonna need you in this world."

Rick nodded back, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," he said, as he turned and walked away.

Dayana had been mulling over exactly how she wanted to say what she felt to Brian, but she had never been the best with words. Sure, she could talk her way out of any situation—she had honed that skill well in her thirty-one years of life—but this was different. This was . . . serious.

"It's now or never," she muttered to herself before getting to her feet and walking over towards the Kratt family. She gave a slight nod to Emily and the kids, her heart breaking a little inside at the sight of them. She hadn't gotten too close to them, mostly due to the stark contrast their family unit had to her own. She wished her parents would have cared about her as Brian and Emily did theirs—not abandon her like her father and abuse her like her mother.

She glanced to Brian and said, simply, "Sorry . . . about this." She sighed, forcing her hands into the pockets of her pants. "I'm not the best at talking about this sort of thing, but . . . I just wanted you to know that if I could have had a dad when I was younger, I would've wanted him to be like you. The way you look after your kids, your wife . . . it's good to know that that sort of person is out there, and not just a fairy tale made up for people like me to dream of. That they're real . . . just for other people."

Brian nodded, feeling a slight smile. It wasn't boastful in the slightest, more . . . humble. He of course didn't care for his family just to be recognized as a true man—he did it because it was what was right. "Thank you. I appreciate you saying that, it—it means a lot."

Dayana gave him a small smile before continuing, "And . . . if you would like, I can . . . do it when the time comes, so none of them have to. I'm not sure anyone else in the group really could stomach it either."

Brian thought on it for a moment before he nodded. "I agree." He looked longingly to his wife and two children, then glanced back to Dayana. "I couldn't have Emily or Brennan do it. And the others—I think it would be best that way, yes."

Dayana nodded and turned away before saying anything else. "Just have them come get me when you're ready."

As she walked away, Brian could've sworn he heard her sniffling.

An hour had passed. Everyone had come and said their goodbyes to Brian, and he knew the pain's increasing levels meant only one thing.

The time had come.

"Honey," he said, grunting as he sat up in the chair. Emily glanced to him, her eyes widening. Brian nodded solemnly. "I-I think it's time."

Emily fought the tears as she glanced to Brennan, who was leaning forward in his chair, his eyes red and swollen. "Honey," she whispered into his ear, "go find Sage." He nodded and got up, running to find the young man as Emily wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry, baby. It shouldn't have ended like this—it's not fair—"

"Shh," Brian whispered, consoling her. Placing a hand on her cheek, he said, "It's not about fairness anymore, Em. It's about surviving, and I . . . it just wasn't in the cards for me." He gave her his best attempt at a smile. "But you know that I love you and the kids more than anything else in this world. Always have—always will. And we'll see each other again, don't forget that. This isn't a goodbye, it's just a see you later."

Emily nodded, crying softly as Caitlyn ran to her father, burying her head in his chest and crying deeply. Brian kissed her forehead, whispering, "I love you so much, sweetheart." As she cried into his shirt, Brian looked to Emily again. Through bated breaths, he added, "Look out for the kids, hon. They'll need you now more than ever."

Between tears, Emily nodded once more. "We're all gonna be just fine, sweetheart. We're going to be fine."

Brennan returned, followed by Sage and Alex. "He said it's time, Brian?" Alex said, and the dying man nodded.

"Yeah. I think it is." He paused briefly, then added, "Go get Dayana. She's the one who's going to do it."

Sage nodded before walking away as Brennan hugged his dad tightly. "I love you so much, Dad," he said between tears as he buried his face into his dad's shoulder.

"I know, son. I know. Just remember, whatever you do, I am proud of you. Always remember that. Just live as the man I raised you to be—and look out for the others. Your mother and sister especially. You are going to be the man of the family now. They'll need you now, Brennan. More than ever."

Brennan nodded as he pulled back. Brian gave him one last smile. "And remember our talk about the girl troubles, alright? Elodie's a nice girl. Just . . . don't rush into things, alright?" Brennan gave his dad a final nod as Brian looked past his shoulder to Dayana, who was standing now with Sage and Alex. "I'm ready."

Dayana nodded as she pulled a knife from her belt, stepping towards Brian before turning and looking at Sage. He gave her a nod of understanding as he grabbed Brennan and led him away, as Alex did the same with Emily and Caitlyn, the three crying as they came together into a tight embrace.

Dayana dropped to a knee beside Brian, and he gave her a reassuring nod. "I'm ready," he said again, and she gave him a nod back.

Seconds later, it was over, and there was nothing but the sound of tears.

A/N: Oof. What a chapter. Writing the farewell to Brian was... pretty painful, I must say. It's always hard to see the good ones go, but as is life in a zombie apocalypse. On another note, we are about to make our trek back to the camp - and we're going to have some fun reunions and first interactions to see. So far, who has been your favorite characters to see interact with one another? As always, thank you all for reading, it means so much to me that you all keep up with this story. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on it! Until next time.