January 11, evening

"Where the fuck have you been?" Harlan was incredulous as he stood and hugged his old English teacher, the drama at the church all but forgotten.

"Surviving. You?" She slung her rifle onto her back and beckoned for him to follow. Harlan stood his ground.

"The Governor killed Tony, and he tried to kill me." He paused. "He didn't even try, he ordered his goons to kill us." Harlan collapsed back to the ground with a sob. "The last time I spoke to Tony, we were fighting."

"Fighting?" Carr stood over Harlan, arms crossed.

"He called me a drunk, and I am. I am. I started drinking as soon as we got to the mall." He wiped snot from his nose. "And he was right, he was right about the Governor killing people, he was right about me falling off the wagon, he was right and I didn't give a shit." He swatted the air in front of him. "And now he's dead because I DIDN'T LISTEN."

"Active listening was never your strong suit." Harlan looked up to see a figure in the doorway, bandages wrapped around his head. Harlan laughed a little, before getting choked up. In a moment he was on his feet with his arms wrapped around Anthony.

"Oh my god," he moaned into his shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Tony. I should've believed you." Tears soaked the white fabric. He pulled his head off of Anthony's chest to kiss him, "Where the fuck did you go?"

"Almost to hell, but Meg saved me."

"Meg?" Harlan detached from Anthony. "Where is she?"

"I have no idea, she just… ran off."

"She might've told the Governor you're still alive, we aren't safe-"

"I doubt it, she killed Dennis."

Harlan's eyes widened, "She did what?"

"She killed Dennis!" Anthony repeated, louder. "He was this close to killing me, "He pointed at the bandages, "and she tackled him, beat his ass to a pulp and shot him like a dog. Then I ran into Carr out in the wild."

"Which one was he?" Carr asked, half invested, eyeing the windows.

"About yay high, blonde," Anthony held his hand nowhere near Dennis's actual height. Or former height, since he was 6 feet under by now.

Carr shook her head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"He was an asshole," Harlan interjected as he slung an arm around Anthony, "and now he's dead. But we need to get back into that damned place and get Junior."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Anthony was nearly cut off by a rotten hand slamming the window.

Carr lined up a shot, but didn't take it. "Can we move, please?"

With that, the trio left. Carr stomped the deadhead out of existence before traveling north and back into town.

"Giga Mart is done for, that place is dead central right now." Harlan paused. "Or it was when we passed by."

"Who else was with you?" Not like Carr would know them.

"Rocko, big guy, and some other guy."

"Oh, Felix?" Anthony said.

"Felix? How did you know?"

"Those two showed up together, they were inseparable. Honestly I thought they were another couple and almost introduced us." Anthony's laugh turned into a sigh. "So, how did they try to kill you?"

"Zombie house." Harlan pointed to the beige domicile as they passed.

"Zombie house?"

"Yeah, I found Jerry and Carl in there. They uh… yeah."

"Jesus Christ. Just a house full of zombies?"

"I think that's what 'zombie house' means, Webster." Carr joked as she led the couple through town. It was remarkably quiet as they began heading east.

"Hey Carr, where are we going anyway?" Harlan was tricked once today, he wasn't going to let it happen again.

"I made some friends, they can help."

The day wore on and turned to dusk. After the sun vanished behind the trees, the trio came upon Twiggy's bar tucked away near the Giga Mart, which was still a hotbed of undead activity.

Carr entered first, followed by Harlan, who sneezed from the dust hanging in the air.

"Bless you." Called a voice from the darkness, making Harlan and Anthony jump.

"I brought some friends, hope you don't mind." Carr lit a cigarette.

"So long as they're good people," the voice continued, "Lord knows there's plenty of bad people around here." The voice lit a cigarette, and Harlan could just make out the contours of Martin's bearded face. He froze. "Are you good people?"

Harlan said nothing.

"We're good people." Anthony brushed past Harlan and strode into the dark. "Any friend of hers is a friend of mine." A gun clicked.

"Don't move a fuckin' inch." Another voice called from the darkness. Anthony froze mid-step. Harlan still hadn't moved. Carr dragged from her cigarette.

"You can un-clench, Cheryl. These boys are more dangerous to themselves than to any of you."

"But the people they roll with sure aren't." Harlan's eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see the interior of the bar. It was a dive by any and all accounts, a leather jacket was splayed on the wall with some biker gang name on it. "I know the short one."

"I-I know you too, Martin." Harlan added sheepishly.

"You know these guys?" Anthony asked.

"Long story." Harlan cut him off. "We hate those bastards at the Cross Roads just as much as you, they have my nephew hostage."

"Your nephew?" Martin stood. Cheryl lowered her pistol. She was older, like Carr and Martin, with a ponytail tied tightly behind her he and an eye patch over her right eye.

"Yeah, sister's kid." Harlan wasn't sure where this boldness was coming from, but he felt a fiery sense of justice fueling his need to rescuer Junior. "She was bitten and died months ago, but before she went, she wanted me to keep him safe. And knowing what the Governor is doing in there? He'll never be safe."

Martin laughed. "And why the fuck should we trust you?"

"You shouldn't," Harlan threw his hands up, "Every cell in my body is saying to run right now, never come back, but my heart knows I'll never forgive myself if I don't get Junior out of there."

"Junior? What's his real name?"

"Harlan. He was named after me."

"So this is personal." Martin stood slowly, revealing a revolver on his hip. "Why shouldn't I shoot you dead right now? How do I know this isn't some ploy?" Cheryl raised her gun again.

"You don't," Harlan walked past Anthony and up to Martin, "You could kill me right now."

Martin narrowed his eyes.

"But you can't, because I already killed you. Remember?"

The older man's face soured, before splitting into a smirk.

"You've got some pair on you."

Anthony mumbled something behind Harlan.

"What?" Harlan turned around. Anthony sighed.

"It's not important."

"What was it?" Now Martin wanted to know.

Anthony sighed again, even louder. "I said, he sure does!"

Everyone stared at him for a moment, before turning back to Martin and Harlan.

"Ignore him, please." Harlan gently pleaded.

"I'm doing my damnedest." Martin spat. "If you do this, and you get back into the mall, make sure you kill that son of a bitch for what he did to my people." The graying man held his hand out.

"He's as good as dead." Harlan grabbed it and shook.

Cheryl lowered her gun, "Are you sure about this?" She exclaimed with a huff.

"He has to pay for what he's done." Martin grumbled.