The Test of Time Chapter 3, a walking dead fanfic

The Test of Time

Chapter Three

Judith Grimes lay on her bed staring at the calendar on the wall. Each square, but one, had a red 'x' marked through it. After today, this month like the others before would go down in her short history as another one gone by without a word from her mom.

At her door cracking open, Judith squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to ruin the surprise she'd overheard Carol and R.J. planning the night before. She listened to three sets of footsteps tiptoe into her room and held her laughter when she heard, "Shhh."

The movement in the room settled and Judith counted ten seconds before she was startled by the honk of a party horn followed by singing. "Ha-ppy biiirth-day to ya. Ha-ppy biiirth-day to ya. Ha-ppy biiiiiiiiirth-day..."

Judith peeled her eyes open to Ezekiel at the foot of her bed with his arms raised like he was orchestrating a choir or something, and she was surprised at how good his deep voice sounded. Aunt Carol stood on one side of Judith's bed, holding a plate of stacked pancakes with a 'one' and 'two' candle lit up, not singing but smiling. And R.J. was on the other side dancing around, like a total goofball, and singing off-key in between his puffs into the party horn.

Judith sat up in her bed and tried not to laugh when Ezekiel and R.J. held the last note out.

"Ha-ppy biiiiiiiiiiiirthday!" Right on cue, R.J. pushed out a final party horn blare. And then they all froze, watching her with anticipation.

Judith broke into applause. "That was so good. And Ezekiel I didn't know you had a voice like that?"

He bowed. "Courtesy of The Kingdom's community choir. We wanted to kick this special day off the right way."

"That's right," Aunt Carol said. "With your favorite chocolate chip pancakes. And…" She nodded at R.J. and when Judith looked over at her brother, she saw the hand behind his back come into view; he held a neatly wrapped little box.

He handed it to her. "This is from all of us. But I picked it out."

She took the box. "Can I open it now?"

"Go for it." Aunt Carol placed the pancakes on Judith's nightstand and sat on the edge of her bed.

R.J. bounced into the empty spot beside Judith, his eyes wide with anticipation as she daintily unwrapped the pretty flower paper—thinking maybe she could reuse it—and set it aside.

Judith lifted the lid of the box, then the cotton stuffing inside, and gasped when she set her eyes on the silver necklace with her initials, 'J' and 'G' , hanging from the end. Judith ran her fingers over the letters. "It's just like mom's."

"That's what I said." R.J. leaned into her side and stared at the necklace too.

"I love it." Judith looked up at Aunt Carol and then Ezekiel. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome," Ezekiel said.

She turned to kiss R.J.'s forehead. "You picked a perfect gift."

Aunt Carol held her hand out. "May I?"

Judith placed the necklace inside the palm of her hand and bent forward as Aunt Carol unclasped the hook and reached out to tie it around her neck before she leaned back and admired it. "Beautiful." She grabbed the plate and placed it in front of Judith. "You better blow these out before they burn out."

Judith took in a deep breath.

"Wait," R.J. said.

She looked at him.

"You have to make a wish first."

"Oh, right." Judith stared at her brother a moment before closing her eyes; this year's birthday wish was for the both of them.

xXx

Warning bells for first period chimed outside The Commonwealth's school building as students of all ages said their goodbyes to the parents who'd walked them there. Judith stood in front of her Aunt Carol, R.J. had left them the moment they'd gotten to the door. He liked to talk comic books with his friends before the second and final bell rang for first period; it was why he'd gotten a tardy ticket more than once, much to Aunt Carol's dismay.

"You ready?" Aunt Carol asked, handing over Judith's poster.

Judith sighed. "I'm a little nervous." Today was the first ever presentation she'd done in front of her classmates—a book report on The Secret Garden. Judith had read it cover to cover three times and had spent hours working on the paper she had to turn in too, and she knew she'd done a good job. But it was the talking in front of the class part, that she was unsure of.

Judith's mom had always told her to hold her head high in the face of her fears, and more times than not she had. She could handle walkers without breaking a sweat. She'd been right beside her family and friends when they'd taken on Governor Milton and her soldiers, so why was a measly little presentation breaking her confidence?

"I heard you practicing last night. You're gonna be amazing."

"Thank you."

"Okay, go on. You don't wanna be late. And make sure R.J. is on time."

"Yes, ma'am. Bye." She turned and walked into the building with her shoulders up and head held high, even as the butterflies in her stomach battled.

xXx

"Alright class, let's get started with our presentations for today." Mrs. Peterson said from the front of the classroom.

Judith liked Mrs. Peterson; she was strict but fair and never forced them to participate like some of her other teachers did. Judith remembered her telling the class that she had been a preschool teacher before the start, and she'd thought that must have taken a lot of patience, considering how much work R.J. alone had been for their mom when he was a little tot.

"Please be respectful of your classmates and make sure there is no talking as they present." Mrs. Peterson looked at the clipboard in her hand. "Judith Grimes you are up first my darling."

No pressure, she thought as she gathered her poster and made the short trek to the front of the room—she sat in the first row. She handed Mrs. Peterson her poster and her teacher went to hang it on the draw-erase board.

Judith took that time to needlessly shuffle through the note cards she'd triple-checked the order of before putting in her backpack the night before.

Mrs. Peterson made her way to an empty desk at the back of the room. "Alright, you have the floor," she said, lowering into a child-sized seat.

"Thank you." Judith took one last look at her notes before glancing up. The tension in her body eased when her eyes landed on the smiley face of her good friend, Mei, who gave Judith two thumbs up.

"I chose the Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett from the list Mrs. Peterson gave us." She gathered all the strength she could muster and looked away from Mei; her eyes scanned the room. "My book is about Mary Lennox, an orphan who goes to live with her uncle after her parents die. On her own, she discovers an old key and a hidden door that leads to a secret, magical garden full of wonder."

She glanced down at the notes, her nerves beginning to ease a bit more.

"The reason I chose this book is because-" Judith's voice faltered as her throat closed up. She cleared it. "I chose this book because I felt like I could relate to Mary... I lost my dad when I was younger and then my mom went away too. And I know what it's like to feel like part of you is missing." Her eyes fell on Mrs. Peterson, who gave her a smile and a nod of encouragement. Judith relaxed even more. "And anyone who's ever wanted to escape from time to time will love this book too." The hard part was over, only smooth sailing from here.

"Easy." Antonio stood on one side of the four-poster bed Pearl had been laid up on all day. With a tight grip on her arm, he helped her shift up.

Once Pearl was sitting upright, she placed a hand over his. "Just give me a minute to catch my breath." She eased back against the short headboard.

"You should rest some more." Antonio dropped down onto the edge of the bed.

She'd been surprised when she'd woken to him at her bedside and even more so after learning it had been Rick who'd made sure he was there when she woke.

"I'll fill you in-"

"I'll be fine." She eyed him. The past week had been a rollercoaster for their relationship and she wasn't quite sure if they were on an upswing or still plummeting straight toward the ground. His being here, like this, was confusing as hell. "You don't have to do this. I can take care of myself."

He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a sweet smile that did nothing to clear up her confusion. "You know... people have died from pride."

"I just don't want you to feel obligated."

"When have you ever known me to do something I didn't want to do?" He stared hard at her a moment, then glanced away. "Look, I'm still trying to process everything you did. Trying to figure out how- or if I can even get past it." His eyes came back to her. "But if you think for a second I'm leaving your side right now, then you don't know me at all."

They watched each other for a moment before Antonio said, "Besides, Rick says this is the safest place for me now. Tomorrow we'll get the rest of the council members out too."

"The council members? Are you in danger?"

He nodded. "Beal told Rick-"

A soft knock at the door interrupted; a moment later, the door cracked open. Arthur poked his head in. For a second she thought she was seeing things, and had to remind herself that he was real. And then a fresh wave of anger entangled disbelief slammed into her.

"How's our patient?" His voice was more croaky than she remembered, like he'd swallowed gravel and it was still stuck there.

Antonio looked back at him. "Grouchy, but that's pretty much a permanent state of being for her, so I'd say-"

Pearl slapped Antonio's arm, as hard as she could with the little strength she had. When he whipped his head back in her direction, Pearl's eyebrows squeezed together and she shook her head at him. "Stop talking shit about me while I'm in the room."

"What? You've got an attitude. It's a well-known fact. I'm not telling the man any lies."

"Oh, I know." Arthur stepped into the room and came to stand at the foot of the bed, his hand stuck in the pockets of his jeans. "She's been... grouchy since she was little."

"Well, it's been a while," she shot back. "Not sure if we can trust your recollection of me."

And… cue the awkward silence, Pearl thought, watching Arthur's smile fade alongside Antonio's. She didn't give a shit, though. He wasn't just gonna waltz back into her life and act like this was okay. There wasn't an excuse good enough for why he'd hidden himself from her all these years.

"Antonio, give us a moment please?" Arthur asked.

Antonio checked with her; the look on his face asked her if she was good. She gave him a nod and he walked out the door, leaving Pearl and Arthur in icy silence.

Their eyes were glued to each other; both of them were too bullheaded to blink first. Her mother had always said Pearl was Arthur in female form, and the way she'd say it, there was no mistaking it as not a compliment. She'd inherited all the best and all the worst traits of him.

She felt a strange sense of satisfaction when Arthur's gaze cut away from her.

"Walter came to me a few days after the walls went up," he said to the side window. "He told me that at the rate we were expending food and energy, we wouldn't last long enough to sustain. He said he'd found a solution. A cache of explosives the military had left behind. He wanted me to lead the mission- to procure them and plant them in Ward Ten..."

In an instant, Pearl's body went cold.

"I think he knew that I'd say no, that I'd go against his orders." He shook his head; she could tell this wasn't the first time he'd gone over the details of this moment in time. "I think he wanted me to do something that justified him killing me. Because if he didn't then my foot would forever be on his neck, challenging the morality of his plans at every pass." His eyes rose to her again. "But I was always one step ahead of him. Even before, when we were both two grunts in the armed forces..."

"You could have come for me." Her voice was only just above a murmur, it was as loud as it would go, with her throat trying to close itself up.

"That first year I was living in a sewage tunnel. I nearly starved to death. I couldn't do that to you."

"You should have given me a choice."

"I did what I knew was best. Walter Beale is a son of a bitch, but he's a man of his word. The first thing he and I told each other when all this kicked off, was that we would take care of each other's family if something happened. I knew you'd be safe."

"But I wasn't!" she shouted, ignoring the pull in her abdomen. "And did you stop to think for a second who I'd become with him? The things I did, I did it all because I didn't know that there was another choice. All these years, you could've brought me in. You could've told me there was a plan. You brought all these damn people into it and left me out in the cold."

"I wanted to. Believe me when I say I did, but…" His eyes dropped away from her again and she could tell he was trying to work out how best to say his next words, she still knew him well enough to catch that.

But he didn't need to say it, it didn't take Pearl long to put two and two together. "You didn't think you could trust me."

"After Dougie told me about what you'd done to Rick. I couldn't risk it."

Unfuckinbelievable. "So you chose revenge over me?"

"I thought it best to leave you out. But I figured, if I could free the city, I'd be freeing you too. I chose you, Pearl. You have to believe that."

"I don't have to do shit." Pearl swiveled her legs off the end of the bed. She was so done. Done with this conversation and with men who thought they knew what was best for her, always telling her how to be. She struggled to push off the bed, fighting to keep her face neutral, even as her wound pulsed against the stitches.

Arthur padded to her side and took her arm.

"Don't touch me." She jutted her hand into his chest, coyly using it as a springboard to steady herself. Pearl shuffled past him and ignored the hurt look on his face.

Rick stood in front of a pane of the floor-to-ceiling window wall that expanded the entire length of the massive penthouse living room and kitchen, which were separated by a floating fireplace.

Rick had never spent more than a few minutes in Dougie's apartment when he'd visited in the past. He'd never realized how impressive it was, with its swanky-looking furniture he figured had been left behind by the filthy rich owners who'd fled at the start.

And he'd never slept on a bed so comfortable in his life.

Though sleep hadn't been a priority the night before; a tireless attention to carefulness in an effort not to disturb Michonne's cuts as he'd made love to her, yes, but sleep... it had been last on his list. It was insane how intense his feelings for her were, like his libido had been a dead battery charged back to life by her body. Amidst the ecstasy of touching Michonne, kissing her, and—God—being inside of her, Rick found himself having to hold back in bed. To not let his eagerness get the better of him, he had to remind himself to take his time with her. She wasn't going anywhere.

Knowing this didn't stop Rick from checking to make certain she was still there, every few minutes, when she wasn't right beside him. He looked back over his shoulder and it didn't take his eyes long to find Michonne, through the scatter of men and women sprawled out in various clusters in the living room. They were chatting and eating from their plates of the breakfast spread Dougie had made.

Michonne stood at the large granite island, making herself a plate. Feeling his eyes on her, she lifted her head and gave him a bright smile that was the catalyst for the warmth now spreading through his body.

Rick returned Michonne's smile and gave her a little nod, before turning back to the window. He reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt for the photo of his family.

"Cute kids," he heard a gruff voice say behind him.

Rick glanced to the side and watched the strapping man who towered over everyone in the room, step in beside him and take a sip from his coffee cup. "Thanks."

"Got two boys myself. Their mom's a beaut, but the poor knuckleheads take after me," the guy said, staring at the city view. He took another sip from his cup, then cut his eyes down at Rick. "You're Rick Grimes." He wiped his hand on his shirt and then held it out. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Rick took it. "Thanks. And you are?"

"Ollie."

"Oh, right. Arthur's right hand."

"That's right."

You're handling the Ruther's mission?"

"That I am."

"Thank you for doing it."

"With respect, I didn't do it for you. I admire the work Mayor Ruthers has done for this city. Her policies are what have gotten us here, more so than anything Beale has done. A lot of us feel that way."

"Yeah… and I hate to put more on you, but we're gonna have to get the rest of the council out too, and their families. Get them to a safe place until everything's over. Beale's planning to take them out in front of the entire city, as a power play."

"Christ."

"You think you have enough manpower for that?"

Ollie thought for a moment while massaging his long and black, gray peppered goatee. "Yeah, I think we can manage it."

Michonne's mouth watered at the spread of breakfast Dougie had laid out; a casserole dish of eggs, a tray of bacon, and fresh-cut fruit and bread.

One, who was this guy, cooking like this? And two, this place had to have a surplus of food; first the cabin's stocked fridge, and now this?

Spooning eggs onto her plate, she thought about how Alexandria's food supply had always been fickle. They teetered between plentiful harvest and famine. Not knowing, at that moment, if her kid's bellies were full, Michonne dropped half the spoonful of eggs back into the dish and only took what she needed to sustain.

"What up?" Dougie sidled in beside her and looking at him after seeing the assembled group, it was apparent he was the "one of these" that wasn't like the others. He held his hand out to her. "Douglas McBryan the third. But people call me Dougie."

She stared at it. "We've met."

"Yeah, but last night there was a lot of hostility and animosity..." he said, with more animation and hand gesturing than was necessary so early in the morning. "Figured we could get a fresh start."

She placed her hand inside his. "Michonne."

"Beautiful name," he said, with what she figured he thought was a charming smile. "For a beautiful woman."

She slipped her hand out of his when he held it a second too long.

"So... uh..." He stepped up closer to her. "You and Rick, you still… you know, a thing? I mean after all these years you didn't by chance lose that loving feeling, right? Like, you're not considering other options…" He tilted his head down at her and one of his bushy eyebrows bent up. "Right?"

"No." Her voice was hard and she hoped it conveyed to Dougie just how much he didn't have a chance with her.

"Cool. Cool. Just checking- you know, for him. Cause he's my guy. I'm pretty much his handler- like in all those spy movies. Anyways, I'm just tryna look out for him."

"Right."

"Man was a lost puppy without you."

Michonne looked over at Rick; he stood by the window beside a tall, beefy man with his long jet-black hair tied in a low bun. She was painfully aware of how much it had hurt to not have Rick, but she hadn't yet considered how much of a daily struggle it had been for him to know that they were out there and not have any power whatsoever to get to them. She shook the thought away and went back to filling her plate. "Who's that Rick's talking to?"

Dougie looked over. "Oh, that's Ollie. Former special ops in the before world. He could smell Beale's bullshit from the start. It's why he never joined up. He works in sanitation now. Dude's a cold-blooded trained killer hiding in plain sight."

"What about the rest of them?"

"Pretty much the same story. They're all former military or five-o."

"They live underground too."

"Nah. That's just Arthur. Everyone else leads regular lives. They've got families. Friends. It's why this all means so much to them."

"And you? How'd you get yourself involved with this?"

"I was nineteen when it all went down. An automotive mechanical engineering student at Drexel. Lost all my friends in the fall. And my family- they were all in Cali, so I don't even know…" She saw his goofy bravado slip a moment before he picked himself back up. "Plus side of the world going to shit, though, it's like living in a real-life video game. For months I went from house to house looting all the guns and technology I could find. Then Beale swoops in and orders the confiscation of it all. Good thing for me, Arthur was the one to find my stash, when he was still a soldier. He could have taken them away. Taken me in." She saw admiration in his eyes. "But he didn't do any of that. That's when I knew he was a real one. After he went on the run, I was the first one he made contact with. I helped him find a permanent place where they couldn't find him. Helped him get the others on board."

Impressive, she thought. "How have they not found you here?"

"Soldiers never venture over here. And because it's roped off, people don't either. I keep the lights dim or off during the night. Don't make much noise. I have a place in ward three, too, to keep up appearances. I spend most of my time here, though. Can't beat this view."

"You work in sanitation too?"

"Nah, I'm a mechanic at the motor lot."

A hush descended over the room and when Michonne looked away from Dougie, she saw the others were watching Pearl amble into the room, with Arthur not far behind her.

Pearl stopped short at the edge of the hallway, her eyes scanning the hostile faces. She looked like a frail piece of prey ready to turn tail and run.

A red-headed woman stood up from the couch and cut her eyes to where Michonne and Dougie were standing. "Douglas," she said in a reprimanding tone. "You didn't tell me this bitch would be here."

"Uh…" Dougie was wide-eyed. He looked down at Michonne, silently pleading for help.

Michonne turned back to face the redhead, but before she could get a word out-

"The bitch is standing right here," Pearl snapped, standing up straighter. "If you've got something to say."

The woman looked back at Pearl and after a tense beat, she charged in her direction.

Michonne sprinted around the counter at the same time Rick ran from his spot in front of the window. No one else in the room made a move.

Michonne took one of the woman's arms right as she was about to lunge for Pearl, Rick took the other.

Antonio stepped in front of Pearl.

"No, Tony!" Pearl yelled, peering around his shoulder. "Let her!"

The woman thrashed against Michonne and Rick's hold. "You have no right to be here!"

"Enough!" The commotion froze at Arthur's booming voice. He moved to stand in between them. "I understand many of you might not like it, but my daughter is part of this now. She has proven that she's with us. And she's an asset we need. So whatever issues you have with her, put them away. Because we don't have time."

Arthur stared at the woman and only when Michonne felt the tension in the woman's body ease, did she nod at Rick for them to let her go.

xXx

The group congregated in the living room, thirty minutes later, after tensions had eased. Some sat on the couch, which Rick and Michonne were parked at the center of, and others stood.

All eyes were on Arthur, who stood before the map of Pennsylvania Dougie had taped to the windows in front of them. "According to the coordinates Beale gave Rick, the explosives are here." Arthur pointed at a spot outside the red-outlined shape of The Civic Republic. "The city of New Cumberland."

"The army base?" Ollie asked, from where he stood off to the side with his arms crossed and his legs parted in a power stance.

"Yeah. It's a depot. The installation encompasses eight hundred and fifty-one acres along the Susquehanna River, about five miles south of Harrisburg. Rick and Michonne have agreed to lead the trek out there. It's better for all of us if they're outside of the walls, it means Jadis will be searching for them longer, and out of everyone in this room, Michonne's got the most experience out there. But-"

"And how are they gonna get out?" The redhead's sharp, doubtful tone was a sure-fire sign that she was still hot from her interaction with Pearl. Michonne had clocked the fueled glances she kept stealing at Pearl and she was sure that if no one else were in the room, the woman would have pounced on Pearl by now.

"There's a tunnel under city hall that ends about a mile outside the wall," Michonne said to her.

"And you know this how? You've only been here a hot minute."

"A man who was an engineer here, sent to Portland in the exchange program- he survived the attack. He told me himself."

The woman gave her a single nod, seemingly satisfied by the explanation.

"But there's over seventy-five miles of the dead and whatever else is out there between here and there," Arthur said. "They can't go alone. I won't allow it. They need backup. Ollie's out, he's leading things here. Who else is in?"

It didn't shock Michonne that no one jumped to volunteer. As formidable as these people appeared, they'd been behind these walls all of these years. And it wasn't that Michonne didn't fear the walkers anymore as much as it was that she knew them—how to fight them and how to kill them. She'd had the better part of a decade to practice.

"Me," the redhead said into the silence, surprising Michonne. "I'll go."

"Alright, who else?" Ollie demanded. "Come on. You all are acting like you've never been to battle before. It's the same thing, just a different enemy."

"I'll go," another guy said, as did another three after him.

When the room went silent again, Arthur nodded. "Alright-"

"I'll go too," Pearl said out of the blue.

Arthur sighed. "No. You're in no shape."

"I'll be at one hundred by tomorrow. Jadis is looking for me too. It's best if I'm out there. And besides Michonne, I'm the one who's been out there most recently. And... there's a mechanical hangar where the military leaves helicopters in need of minor maintenance. It's halfway in between here and New Cumberland. If we can get there, I can fly us the rest of the way to the cache. And make the trip back a fraction of the time."

"Can you fix the plane too?" Rick asked.

"No. But…" She looked at Dougie, with raised eyebrows.

It took him a second to register that she was referencing him. "What- me? Fuck, no. I'm sorry, but I've never even killed one of those things. I can't-"

"You won't even have to."

"No. No!" He waved his hands in front of himself. "That's where I draw the line."

Arthur turned and set a hand on his shoulder, Dougie's mini freakout calming a bit at just his touch. "I understand your fear. And you've done so much for the cause, so much for me. But we need you now more than ever before. We've come so far and we can not give up now when we're almost at the finish line. We can not let up until The Republic is free." Arthur spoke in a hushed tone, but it didn't lessen the impact of his words on the entire room.

Michonne saw the others look at each other in agreement. And when Rick took her hand, drawing her eyes, and gave her a nod, she knew Arthur's words had hit him too. She squeezed his hand and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I've done my part and then some." The fight in Dougie's voice was all but gone.

"I won't argue that. But I'm asking you to do a little bit more."

Dougie stared at Arthur a few moments longer, then sighed. "I want someone personally assigned to my protection. And as soon as we get that helo up and running, I come back."

"Deal," Arthur said to Dougie before turning back to the rest of the group. "Rick."

He let go of Michonne's hand and went to stand beside Arthur. "We leave tomorrow, under the cover of night," Rick said to the group.

"There'll still be patrols out," Pearl said.

"That's why it works perfectly that tomorrow is the day the play to get Ruthers happens. Once we black out the city, the soldiers will be scrambling. So while Ollie and his team are getting that done, Michonne and I, and the others, will be making our way out of the city. We have six days before Beale returns, to get the explosives and put them in place and get everything ready here for what's gonna happen. The clock starts the moment we step foot in the wasteland. Any questions?" Rick looked around the room, but no one said a word. "Alright, rest up. Gear up. It all starts tomorrow."

In a conference room inside the military office building, Jadis stood before the map of The Republic lit up on the projector screen and marked with only a few black lines across the neighborhoods the soldiers had already looked through.

Jadisfelt the urge to punch a fucking hole in the wall.

Four squadrons had been searching all day, ransacking houses and establishments, and yet Rick, Michonne, and Pearl were nowhere to be found.

"Ma'am, at this rate it's gonna take us weeks to find them, even if we called everyone up. The city's too big," she heard her closest lieutenant—Howard—say from behind.

Howard's voice, speaking things Jadis was already aware of, was grating to her ears.

"Ma'am I think-"

Jadis held a hand up, silencing the woman. She needed to think, needed to regain her fucking composure. Major General Beale had put her in charge and she wouldn't allow what happened at the research facility to go down here.

Dammit, if Beale had waited just one more day to free Rick of his ankle bracelet, this would be a whole helluva lot easier.

She needed to get a hold of herself, needed to be the woman Beale had entrusted the city to in his absence. Jadis turned around to face Howard. "Have we figured out who that cabin belonged to?"

"No ma'am, it was unregistered. There was men and women's clothing, but no identity markers."

"Check the housing records against the city map and narrow the search grid to only unregistered houses and apartments. Anyone you find living in one, bring them in for questioning. Then send a team to the rural areas. If there's a stretch of land out there, there could be a cabin or something built after the maps were created."

"Yes ma'am." Howard turned and marched toward the door.

"And Lieutenant Howard..."

She turned back.

"I want my protection detail doubled. And put as many bodies as we can spare on every inch of that wall."

"Yes ma'am."

The dinner table was loud with laughter and conversation; every bottle of the liquor Dougie had stocked in his cabinet had been corked and was now being passed around. If Michonne were going out into the unknown for the first time, she supposed she'd also spend the night before getting hammered enough to forget for a little while.

The only thing that had touched the inside of Michonne's glass was water.

She sat back quietly, one hand connected to Rick's under the table. He was huddled in conversation with Arthur, Ollie, and Antonio—they sat beside and across from him at one end of the table.

Michonne silently surveyed the rest of the group on the other end, or rather, the ones who'd volunteered to go with her and Rick. Being out there, you were only as strong as the weakest member of your group, and for this, she couldn't abide anyone going with them who didn't have their shit all the way together.

The redhead sitting right beside her turned away from the conversation she was having with the guy across the table to look at Michonne. "I'm Vanessa." She sank her teeth into a piece of bread to rip it off. "Michonne, right?" she said through her mouthful.

Michonne nodded. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry about earlier. I've been tryna work on my anger issues. As you can see, I still have a long way to go."

Great. Michonne sighed inwardly. She'd learned a long time ago that anger made you stupid, and stupid got you or the people around you killed out there. She'd seen it happen time and time again. "So are you good? Because if you're not, no one would fault you for backing out."

Vanessa nodded slowly. "I'm trying to be... I will be, come tomorrow. Just... need tonight to get over it."

"Okay."

Vanessa threw her bread onto her plate. "I'm sorry, but how are you not wringing her neck? I heard what happened to you guys-" At Michonne's inquisitive stare, Vanessa waved her hand dismissively. "Douglas has a big mouth. But you spent all those years not knowing what happened to your husband." She slumped back in her seat. "At least I knew my brother was dead."

Oh. "I'm sorry... and trust me, she was pretty far up there on my shit list. But, it kinda takes the sting out of things when someone takes a bullet for you."

"I guess, but no matter what, I still don't have to like the bitch."

"No. No!"

Michonne shot up, her hand went to the gun on her nightstand. In a matter of seconds, she was out of the bed and brandishing it in the pitch darkness, her ears were her only guide.

"No!"

The sound led her down to the bed and when her eyes adjusted, she saw Rick still lying there, his head whipping from side to side as he fought against a threat that was invisible to her.

She set the gun on the nightstand and flipped the lamp light on low, before sliding back under the covers and scooting close to him, careful to stay out of the crosshairs of his flailing arms.

Michonne placed her hands on the side of his face and she set her lips near his ears. "Rick. It's okay. Wake up." His tossing body stilled slowly. "Wake up."

Rick gasped back awake with a sharp intake of breath. Instinct kicking in, his hand went to grab her wrist, but the tightness of his hold on her eased when realization dawned on him. He loosened his grip but kept his hand there. "I'm sorry... sorry."

"Don't be." Michonne moved up on the bed, so she was leaning over him and went to work, cleaning the mop of sweaty hairs off his forehead. "Does this happen a lot?"

"Most nights," he said in between his calming but still ragged breaths.

Michonne slipped a leg in between Rick's, beneath the covers, and pressed her body deeper into his side, hoping the extra contact might help ease the tension she still felt in his frame. "What is it?"

He struggled to speak; opening his mouth, then shaking his head.

Michonne waited. If she knew anything about him it was that he'd get there, he always did, he just needed time. She slid her hand away from his face and down to his bare chest, the loose grip he had around her wrist never let up.

"I'm on the bridge again." His blue eyes glistened; they were set on her. "With all those walkers coming at me. And every time, I try to fix it. But it always ends the same way. And I hear you, screaming my name. And there's nothing I can do. There's no way to get to you. I try every time."

Michonne dropped her forehead against his. "I'm here. I'm right here."

Rick's gaze rolled away from her, to nowhere specifically. "I thought now that you were here, they'd go away..."

"We're going out there tomorrow. It's always a risk. Maybe that's why?"

"Yeah." His eyes wandered back to her. "The thought of losing you again... or you losing me. I told you once that we could- lose each other... I was wrong. I can't."

"We won't," she said fiercely. "I know because we're together. We've always been better that way. Right?"

Rick nodded, but his tense face and body remained unchanged.

"Come here." Michonne shifted to lay back on her side of the bed and brought Rick with her. He rested on her, his head pillowed against her chest. Michonne raked her fingers through his hair, listening as his breathing slowed to a peaceful rhythm.

"Knock knock." Carol stepped into Mercer's office. "Woah." She reeled back at the sight of him and Princess engaged in a full-on make-out session that looked about five seconds from going somewhere that'd be wholly inappropriate for the workplace... "You really should put a sign on the door or something."

They separated at the sight of her. Mercer wiped his mouth as Princess climbed off his desk. "You're early," he said, looking bashful.

"R.J. and Judith had before-school activities. Thought I'd get a jump on the day."

"Hey, Carol. I was just saying goodbye to my man." Princess gave him a peck on the lips. "See you later, baby. It's your night to cook. Don't forget."

"Got it," Mercer said, like the well-trained boyfriend he was.

Princess moved toward the door and stopped in front of Carol. "How'd Judith like her necklace?"

"She loved it. Thanks for the suggestion."

"Hey, every girl loves some bling. I'll see you later."

"Bye." Carol turned back to Mercer who now sat behind his desk watching her with a bashful look on his face.

"Don't say it."

Carol shut the door. "Say what?" With a feigned innocent tone and a little smile on her face she made her way to sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

He groaned.

"It's cute."

"Okay, we're dropping this."

"Good morning!" Ezekiel all but roared as he pushed through the door, too cheery too early in the morning. It was the single greatest thing she didn't miss about living with him.

"Morning Zeke," Mercer said.

"Hey," Carol said at the same time.

Ezekiel did a double take at her sitting there. "You're early."

"Before school stuff."

"Oh, right," he said, not needing any more of an explanation. He and Carol traded off taking the kids to school, and he knew their schedules just as well as she did. But on days when they had to be there early, she'd still make it in at her regularly scheduled time. As she'd take the extra hour for herself; to tidy up the house, or read one of the many books she'd borrowed from the library and started but never got around to finishing.

It'd been a year since she'd taken over full care of R.J. and Judith. Being a parent again took some getting used to. Once again, her life was not her own. Not that she minded even a bit; Rick and Michonne had done a bang-up job with those two.

"What's on the agenda for today, boss?" Ezekiel asked her.

Carol handed them each a clipboard with a piece of paper she'd typed up the night before, as she did every night. When she'd taken over Lance's job, she'd been allowed to make it her own, which meant a new level of organization and complete transparency between her, Ezekiel, and Mercer. "I went to visit the farmers yesterday, they're asking for more help."

"How many people do they need?" Mercer asked.

"A team of ten they can train to rotate out shifts more often."

"Do we have any candidates?"

"Not at the moment, but I was thinking any new people we get, we give them that duty in the meantime. Seeing as we don't have openings anywhere else. You both good with that?"

"Yup," they both said.

She went through the rest of the list of seemingly mundane, but vital to the operation of the community, logistics. It was only when she got to the end that she paused. "Pamela keeps asking for a better meal plan."

"You went to see her?" Ezekiel asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Carol made it no secret, the contempt she held for the woman. She hadn't been to visit her since they'd put her in prison. "Course not. The guards keep telling me. They're getting annoyed."

"Rightfully so," Ezekiel sighed. "She's becoming a nuisance."

"Well we decided to keep her alive, so she's our nuisance," she said. "Will one of you go see her? She just wants to feel important. After a visit, she'll be quiet for a few more months."

Mercer and Ezekiel exchanged a look.

"What?" Carol asked.

"You know what's gonna happen if we go," Mercer said to her. "Same thing that happens every time. She's gonna ask to see you. So why don't we just cut out the middleman."

"No. I'm not giving her what she wants. All her life people have bent over backwards because of who she is. It's the very reason this place became what it was. She needs to learn that things aren't like that anymore."

"It would help if you said that to her," Ezekiel said. "In only the way you know how. When you're done with her, I'm pretty sure we won't hear another peep outta her."

It'd be nice not to get complaints every week from the guards. But Carol wasn't sure anything she could say would change the very core of who Pamela was. It was worth a shot though, she supposed. "Just so we're clear, I'm not doing it because you convinced me to," she said to Ezekiel.

"I would never think such a preposterous thing. And, thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." She stood and walked to the door.

xXx

Get in, get out, get on with my day, Carol grumbled to herself as she walked through the prison tomb. All the guards sported various versions of a surprised face when they saw her enter. She waved their questions away as she passed without stopping, wanting desperately to get it over with.

"I told you. I don't eat that!" Carol heard Pamela's superior ass voice even before she turned the corner into her cell block. She watched Pamela tip her tray of breakfast, through the service slot, onto the boots of the guard bargaining with her to take it. "Do you know who I am?"

The guard bent down to pick up the food. "I'll see if I can get you something else," he said.

"Don't," Carol said, walking toward them.

They both turned to face her and Pamela's mouth dropped open.

"We're required to offer prisoners food," Carol said to the guard. "But if they don't want it, that's on them. You go take a break."

"But I just got here."

Carol tilted her head, befuddled. "You're turning down a break?"

"No. I guess not." He hurried past her like he was afraid she might take it back.

She looked over her shoulder and watched him go, fully aware Pamela was waiting with anticipation for some kind of acknowledgment. Carol took her time turning back around and then walking to stand in front of the bars Pamela stood behind.

"You're here," Pamela said.

"Being a jackass to the people preparing your food doesn't seem like a smart move. History has proven that. Many kings have died at the hands of their servants."

"Is that a threat?"

"Oh, no. We don't condone unprovoked violence. I'm just saying if you were smart you'd be polite to the people serving your meals."

"Why has it taken you so long to come to see me?"

"I don't owe you anything."

Pamela smirked and turned away from her. She hobbled to sit on the twin-sized, made

bed—the only thing in her cell besides the toilet.

Carol tried not to feel satisfied at how terrible she looked, but boy was it difficult. Her once short, blonde hair was now grown out to her shoulders and scraggly. Her face was sunken in and the new lines there made her look like she'd aged a decade.

She sat down on the bed and leaned her head back against the wall, staring at the other side of her cell. "I'll admit, I underestimated you back then. You seemed like such a mouse of a woman. Unassuming. You blended into the walls. Who knew, you were watching everyone and everything."

"I don't have all day."

"I've been sitting here kicking myself, because if only I'd have gotten you on my side sooner… we could have been an unstoppable team. Because you and I understand things aren't always black and white. It's why you're able to fit into both worlds—the light and the dark."

"Is there a point to all this?"

"You know of this specific darkness well enough to still wonder, I'm sure..." she said, continuing on her tangent as if Carol hadn't said a word. "If there was more to the story."

"Is there?"

Pamela rolled her head toward Carol, a shit-eating grin on her face. "Well, you know the half of it. We did disappear all those people but to where? I know you've asked yourself that question."

Carol shifted her weight. She was annoyed this woman was reeling her back in, because yeah, she still had her questions. There had been so many unanswered ones with Lance's death. His dying words still rang through her mind at least daily. It's part of a plan, a vision. To expand The Commonwealth's reach… At first, she'd thought it was just the labor camps he'd been talking about, but as the days went by and she pondered on it more, it just didn't add up. "You have something to say, Pamela, say it. I'm leaving in two minutes."

She stood and hobbled back to the bars. "There's a bigger threat out there than me. They call themselves the last light of the world, which means there's no room for anyone else. We had a deal with them, but they made it clear that our survival was contingent upon how useful we were to them. This place is in danger now that we can't give them what they want."

"You've had a lot of time on your hands. To think and make up stories…"

"I'm not making this up."

"Then tell me where they are. Who exactly they are."

"Okay… but first, I want you to guarantee me a reduced sentence. I can't spend the rest of my life in here."

And there it is. "I hoped this visit would have been less predictable. Bye, Pamela." Carol walked away.

"I'm telling the truth," Pamela yelled at Carol's back as she retreated. "They'll come for you."

Yolanda had ripped up the tiny piece of paper L.T. Grimes had slipped her, but the words were ingrained into her brain. If she knew any better, she'd learn from history and not trust the man, but after what Joy had told her about the lies being spread, taking a chance before a jury of her peers seemed like a non-starter.

Who was she kidding, Beale would probably try her before the military tribunal, in which case she had zero chance of making it out alive.

So the options were; either risk getting the death penalty or put her faith in L.T. Grimes' plan—which as far as she was concerned only consisted of running when the lights went out. God, could the note have been any more vague?

The choice of a lifetime, she thought snidely, lying on the ground and staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe she could take Beale's deal. Give him some kind of false information, a false story leading to nowhere. It'd take the death penalty off the table, and at least then she'd get visitation with Joy. She'd be on the sidelines, a spectator to her daughter's life. And who knows if Joy would even want anything to do with her after The Republic raised her, and brainwashed her into believing the lies. It wasn't ideal, by any stretch of the imagination, but It'd guarantee she wouldn't break her promise to Joy—that she wouldn't become an orphan.

Yolanda sighed and turned to face the wall. Only a few more hours until nightfall; only a few more hours to decide.

Rick, Michonne, and the six others accompanying them on the mission followed behind Dougie, who led the way down the long hallway of bedrooms toward the master suite.

Everyone, but Rick and Pearl, were fitted in the contraband CRM uniforms that Dougie had been slowly acquiring from the bin back behind the military complex offices, where they disregarded the irregular ones. Rick and Pearl wore their own tailored garments.

Dougie pushed the door open and Rick's mouth hung when his eyes fell on the neatly organized shelves of guns and weaponry that lined every inch of the room's four walls, making it look more like a gun shop than a bedroom.

Dougie walked backward into the room with his arms spread out wide. "Come one, come all to Dougie's gun show. Take what you need." He slapped his hands together. "Got any questions, I'm your guy."

Vanessa moved past the others. "I think we got it, Douglas," she said in a condescending tone that cemented in Rick the fact that he didn't care for that woman.

"Got any A.K.'s?" Rick heard one of the guys ask.

"Yeah, over this way," Dougie said.

Rick walked along the shelves, surveying the displayed rifles hung on the wall. He lifted a Sporter and examined its black exterior, then checked the barrel. Perfect condition; Dougie had done well.

He slung the rifle strap over his shoulder and moved toward the lined-up knives on the adjacent counter. Rick picked up a spear point and was sliding it into his utility belt when his eyes caught on the steel of a colt python, gleaming from the waning sun just outside the window.

He stared down at the gun a moment before lifting it by its weathered brown leather.

"Good choice." Michonne came up behind him and dropped her chin on his shoulder.

Rick glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. "Can't get away from it, huh?" He turned his head more, to look at the pistol she held in her hand. "Sorry I couldn't get your sword back."

"It's all good." A small smile played on her lips. "But trust, I'm not going home without it."

"No, you're not." Rick turned around and gave her a once over, he hadn't gotten a good look since she'd gotten dressed. Seeing her in that uniform, his past and present intermingled creating a dose of déjà vu so potent he felt a little dizzy.

When he came back down from it, reality hit even harder. They were about to go out there together and Michonne had been right the night before—the risk was great and there was no guarantee of what could happen.

The thought propelled him forward; Rick pressed his lips to Michonne's, unfazed by the rest still in the room. He kissed her hard and long, and his free hand slid around her waist to rest on her lower back.

When they separated, Michonne pulled back to get a good look at Rick's face. "What was that for?"

Rick gave her a challenging look, with a tilt of his head and a mischievous smile. "Just because."

"I like just because. And..." She glanced around the now quiet space. "I think we just cleared the room."

"Good." Rick set the python back down, placed his freed-up hand on Michonne's other side, and pulled her in closer. He kissed her again, pressing his body deeper into hers. His hands roamed up her back to cradle her face, and his eyes trailed over every part of it when they pulled apart again. He focused on the little details his mind hadn't been keen enough to recall during their time apart. "I never told you enough how beautiful you are."

"Rick..."

"So many things I didn't say enough. Like... how I wouldn't have made it without you. Or how you've always inspired me- the way you fought for a better life for us, even when I couldn't see it. How there's never been anyone- anyone who I trust more than you." He pressed in tighter to her, so their faces were only inches apart and put everything into the words he said next. "Or how much I love you."

"I think the cat's out of the bag on that one."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"And in case you weren't aware, I love you too."

"Yeah," Rick drew out. "I kinda figured that. I mean, unless you'd trek through hundreds of miles of the dead for just any guy..." His teasing voice trailed off.

"Not a chance."

Rick suppressed a laugh at the dead-serious look on Michonne's face.

"I absolutely would not have done this for any guy besides the father of my babies..." Her lips parted in a wide, dazzling smile. "The love of my life."

"Good. Just checking."

They shared a laugh and then another kiss and spent a few more minutes alone before The Republic was set to go dark.

Sirens blared. Yolanda's eyes sprung open to darkness. The lights they kept on even during the night hours were cut. The only brightness she could see was the red blinkers flickering, rolling in tandem with the noise.

Yolanda's body stiffened when her cell door rolled itself open and she was face to face with a prisoner on the other side, who was curled up in the corner of her cell with her hands covering her ears.

"Everyone stay in your cells!" She heard a guard yell.

"What the fuck is going on!?" Another shouted.

When the lights go out, run. It only took a split second of hesitation for her to finally decide. She pushed off the ground and sprinted out of her cell; turned left and ran for the exit. Her heart pumped hard in her chest as she flew past the row of open rooms on either side.

"Hey!" She heard a gruff voice call after her. "Stop. Stop right there."

Yolanda kept going, glancing over her shoulder just long enough to see the guard running after her.

"I said stop! Inmate fleeing through the main exit. Requesting backup," she heard him say.

Yolanda reached the door leading out of the cell block and smashed the crash bar. The door opened into the main corridor. Yolanda halted at the guard waiting there for her, with his gun raised.

"Hands on your head and get on the ground. Now!"

Yolonda hesitated.

"I said now!" He nudged his gun in her direction.

"Okay, okay!" She raised her hands slowly and before they could touch her head, the man in front of her dropped to the ground.

It happened so fast. And it was only when she saw the blood seeping from the hole in the side of his head that she realized someone had shot him.

Yolanda dragged her eyes up and to the side, where she saw two ski-mask-wearing men. One was huge—a wall of muscles—and the other was larger than her, but smaller than his friend. Both of their guns were pointed in her direction.

"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded.

"Duck, ma'am!" the bigger one said calmly.

She squatted down and squeezed her eyes shut. Heard the door behind her bust open, then the pew of a silenced bullet and the sound of a body dropping.

Hands grabbed her arms, pulling her up. Her eyes flashed open, it was the masked men. "Come on. We're friends of Rick."

She struggled to keep up with them as they ran down the opposite corridor of the one that led to the entrance doors. They turned at the bend that led into yet another corridor and then another until they reached an exit that led them into a back alley.

A utility van speeded to a skidding stop in front of them; the door slid open. The masked men ducked her head down and pushed her in. As soon as the door slid back shut, the car peeled off.

She looked at the driver, hoping to catch a glimpse of a face, but he had a mask on too. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

Big man beside her lifted his mask and surprised her with a smile. "Oliver. But you can call me Ollie. We're taking you somewhere safe, Mayor. Don't worry."

Rick led the rifle-armed group that scurried in a single-file formation, along the cement wall of the high rise they were using as cover. When they made it to the edge that led to the street, he held his fist up for them to halt and lifted the visor of his CRM-issued mask—which they all wore—to peek around the corner.

Rick's eyes did a quick scan of the street leading straight to city hall—two blocks away. There were no citizens anywhere to be found. The Republic was under lockdown. There were only soldiers walking the streets with flashlights—he counted five. He shrunk back behind the wall and nodded to Michonne, who stood directly behind him.

She dropped one hand from her rifle and reached down to press the talk button on the earpiece speaker clipped to her vest, and attached to a wire that went down to connect to the radio on her hip. She spoke into it with a hushed tone. "Bird's Eye. What do you see?"

Rick could hear her voice in his ears, as could all the others in line with them. They were all wearing earpieces attached to their walkies. Dougie had thought of everything.

"I count five commandos in your path," a voice, he knew was in place atop the highrise across the way, said over their comms.

Michonne looked at Rick and he nodded.

"Confirmed," Michonne said back. "Redirect 1. Do you copy?"

They heard a moment of silence then, "Go for redirect 1."

"Are you in place?" she asked.

"Affirmative."

"Redirect 2. Do you copy?" she said.

Another voice came over the comms. "Go for redirect 2."

"Are you in place?"

"Affirmative."

"On my count." Michonne paused. Then pressed the talk button once more. "Three. Two. One."

A split second later, they heard the first crack of gunfire. A synchronized succession came from rooftops far east and far south of them. It sounded like a gun battle.

Rick popped his head around the corner again. The soldiers were running in all directions now.

"Bird's Eye," Michonne said with a raised voice, struggling to be heard above the persistent noise. "We need a sitrep."

"Get ready. They're pulling them back."

Rick leaned away from the wall, to be seen by the rest, and pointed to his eyes and then his chest. On me, the signal said.

Each one gave a single nod of their head to reply they understood.

Rick got back into position and slapped his visor down; he racked the slide of his rifle and then heard the other guns do the same.

Rick checked around the corner once more. It was clear. Then he held his hand up, motioning forward before he burst out from behind the wall.

Jadis' body vibrated, every cell within her was on fire as she walked with long strides through the military plaza, a trail of soldiers on her tail. "Get helos in the air. Now! I wanna know where those gunshots came from. And why are the goddamn lights still off?!"

"Ma'am the electricians are working on it. But the power lines are underground," Howard said, walking in stride with her. "It's gonna take them at least the night."

"Someone go put a fire under their asses."

"Yes, ma'am," she heard, but couldn't be bothered to look and see from who, as she walked through the open door of the Health and Welfare Center.

She was greeted by two guards lamenting over two white sheet-covered bodies.

They stood at attention at the sight of her. "Ma'am," they said in unison.

"What happened here?" Jadis asked.

They looked at each other.

"Speak!"

"Ma'am, when the lights went out the cell doors opened and she ran-"

"She, who?"

"Prisoner oh four six- uh- Yolanda Ruthers. We heard Officer Yonkers call for backup and-" His eyes dropped to the men. He teared up, his lip trembling.

Jadis stepped up to grab his face, steering it toward her. "There's no time for this. You understand me?"

He nodded against her tight hold.

She slapped his face away. "Tell me the rest."

He swallowed. "None of the prisoners heard a single gunshot. When we got here, these two were already dead."

"And the people who did this?"

"They were gone."

Jadis squatted down and peeled back the sheet. A single bullet to the temple. It was clean and no one had heard, which meant there'd been a silencer. Considering the inevitable chaos of the moment and the fact it had only taken a single shot, Jadis determined this was done by someone with skill.

She placed the sheet back over him and looked up. "You said she ran as soon as the doors opened."

"Yes, ma'am. Considering when they called for backup, she didn't hesitate. Like she knew it was gonna happen."

Like she knew it was gonna happen. Jadis stood. "Has anyone been to visit her since she's been here?"

"Just her daughter."

Jadis crossed her arms and stared down at the body.

"And a Captain… Grimes, I think it was."

Her head whipped up.

Yolanda stared out of the window of the van as it sped through the vacant city streets of Ward Two; soldiers roamed with flashlights. Her heart was arrested every time a convoy of military humvees blaring their sirens whizzed past. "Why aren't they stopping us?" She asked Ollie.

He sat in the passenger's seat now, leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on the road ahead. "We're in an electrician's vehicle. They think we're part of the crew fixing the power outage," he said, not looking at her.

They'd planned this, down to this vehicle... all for her? It didn't make sense. And the way Ollie had a tight grip on that pistol in his hand didn't do anything to ease the tension gnawing at her.

At least they'd all taken their masks off.

It wasn't long before they passed the sign marked, 'You Are Now Entering Ward Three'. Followed by a long stretch of open road, flanked by woods.

"Pull into the trees," Ollie instructed the driver. "We go on foot from here."

"On foot?" Yolanda scooted in between the driver's and passenger's seats. "We can't- what if they catch up to us."

The van swerved onto the dirt path of the woods, she grabbed the front seat's shoulder to keep from knocking into the window.

"Don't worry," Ollie said, his eyes still trained ahead as the van violently cut through the brush. "They're not looking this way. You hear that gun battle on our way out?"

"Yeah."

"That was our people. Redirect."

"Your people? Who even are you?"

"Right here!" Ollie yelled, ignoring her.

The driver slammed the vehicle to a stop and Ollie jumped out. He slid the door open and grabbed her arms. "Come on. We've got a ways to go."

xXx

Yolanda huffed, trying to catch her breath as she picked sticks and leaves and shit out of her hair when they broke through the trees and slowed into a clearing where a light pink Victorian mansion with white finishings sat on a secluded acreage. It was eerie how much it resembled one of the dollhouses in Joy's room.

And yeah, it was far enough away from the city that it'd take a good bit of searching to find them, but this looked like a registered house. It had a CRM lawn flag posted out front and everything. "This is where you're hiding me? This is your big plan?

Ollie and the other two men, walking in front of her, stopped and turned around. "Have a little faith, Mayor." Ollie held his hand out toward the house, motioning for her to walk ahead of him.

Yolanda crossed her arms. "Is L.T. Grimes in that house?"

"No. And he's most definitely not a soldier anymore," Ollie said with a little chuckle.

"He put me in that prison and he couldn't be bothered to show up?"

"He's busy."

"Well, I don't know you."

"Everything will be made clear once you go inside."

She dug her heels in, planting her feet more firmly into the grass.

Ollie sighed and rested his hands on his hips. "I respect you, a great deal, and I don't wanna have to do it, but if you don't move within the next thirty seconds I will pick you up and carry you into that house. Because you are my mission. There hasn't ever been one in all my years that I haven't accomplished."

Yolanda stared at him, the rugged edges of his face hadn't been flexed since she'd met him. They hadn't tied her up or manhandled her once, just guided her gently through each phase of the extraction. But Rick had been kind too, and she'd trusted that.

And now you're here being rescued by people he sent. Her world was all upside down, she didn't know which way to go.

Ollie Stutter stepped toward Yolanda.

Oh, he was serious. She held her hands up to stop him from lifting her. "Fine." She hurried past him toward the house and heard the men's footsteps crunching grass behind her.

Yolanda marched over the lawn and up the steps and waited on the landing for Ollie and the others to catch up.

He stepped in beside her and she glanced up at him when she felt him look down at her.

"Could you… try and look less like a kidnap case," he asked, holstering his gun.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just asking for a more pleasant look before I knock on the door."

Yolanda faced him and slowly crossed her arms again, then pursed her lips. "Until I get some answers, this is all you're getting."

Ollie shook his head and looked behind at the guys standing at the foot of the steps. "Guns away. She doesn't like them." He waited for the guys to do as asked and then stepped up to the door to knock.

The night light flicked on and Pearl's face unclenched in surprise when the door opened to a frail old white lady whose face lit up when it landed on Ollie. "Oh my goodness!"

"Hi, Louise." He stepped forward and hugged the woman who looked even tinier in his arms.

"It's been too long."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's been busy down at sanitation."

"You work too hard."

"Some might say the opposite," he said in jest.

What the hell is this?

Louise pulled away from him. Her smile faltered when her eyes settled on Yolanda. Then she glanced up at Ollie with a stern set to her face. "Another one?"

"Last one I promise," he said with a charming smile.

Louise's eyes went back to Yolanda. She squinted hard, then reached into the pocket of her floral button-down and pulled out a fragile-looking pair of glasses. "My goodness. You're the Mayor."

Oh, God.

"Didn't recognize you in that getup, and with-" She waved her hand in the general direction of Yolanda's head. "Your hair like that. You always look so put together on the broadcasts. Well, come in Darling. You must be starved. I just know what they were serving you at that glorified prison was none too kind to your belly."

"Are you sure? I mean you know I'm-"

Louise placed a soft hand on Yolanda's arm. "I know you can't always believe what you hear." Her hand slid down to grab Yolanda's. "Come in out of the cold."

Yolanda followed her into the house and warmth enveloped her the moment she stepped in; it was in the air, in the low lights that made her wanna crawl under one of the afghans she spotted and stare into the soft roaring hearth fire, and in the smell that reminded her of every home-cooked meal she'd ever had.

Louise let go of her hand and disappeared around some corner, leaving the four of them in the living room. "I voted for you, you know?" She called from the other room.

"Thank you."

"A woman going against all those men. Of course, I did. Women know how to get things done, without throwing hands or pulling guns. It was a shame to watch those military men come in and walk all over you- turn this place into some kind of army base."

Yolanda looked around, and her eyes scanned over the photos on the wall. One in particular made her pause—Louise sat beside a man and around them were younger versions of the two, all the way down to a baby sitting in her lap.

Louise appeared again with aluminum foil-wrapped plates stacked on top of each other. She handed one to each of them.

"Thank you," Yolanda said sincerely.

"I'm not the one you should be thanking."

"We better get her below," Ollie said. "Patrols might come through here, with everything going on out there."

Louise nodded and stepped aside.

Ollie stepped up and kissed Louise's cheek. "You're the best." He looked back at Pearl. "This way."

Yolanda followed Ollie out of the living room and through to the back bedroom. He pushed the bed frame aside and lifted and rolled the rug away, revealing a door. Ollie pulled it up and the moment she saw the stairs leading down below, she heard the voices.

Yolanda's mind blocked out all others when she heard the only one that mattered. The plate slipped from her fingers and she didn't stick around long enough to watch it crash to the ground, she was bounding down the staircase by then.

At the bottom of the stairs, she found a small living room packed with people. People she knew. The council members and their families.

"Mom!" Joy stood from where she was eating on the floor with the other council members' kids.

Her daughter ran for her and jumped into her arms. Pearl held tight to her; and squeezed her eyes shut, closing the gates on the tears that threatened to fall. "I told you I wasn't gonna leave you," she croaked.

When she managed to open her eyes, the man they landed on, had her doing a double take. "Arthur?"

"Good to see you again, Yolanda. It seems we've got a lot to catch up on."

Pearl brought up the rear of the group Rick led, whose flashlights atop their raised rifles lit the way, through the pitch darkness of the tunnel beneath City Hall. Total silence; they moved so deftly that not even their fast-footed movements could be detected by anyone who might be up above. The only sounds were the droplets of water leaking in time from the ceiling and the chirps of the rats that scurried about.

Pearl gritted her teeth through the throbbing in her side. All night as they'd moved through the city and climbed down into the tunnel, the pain had escalated. She'd bitten it down, not wanting to display an ounce of weakness to the others. But goddamn, it hurt like a bitch.

Rick held his fist up and the line in front of her halted. He raised his rifle, lighting a ladder on the wall; they'd reached the other end. The ladder led to a small door up above, with a wheel on it.

"Be prepared," she heard him whisper through the comms. in her ears. "We don't know what's up there. Once you get up, you're on the lookout for the rest. Light the way."

Pearl and the others raised their rifles to light the ladder, as Rick slung his gun over his shoulder. She watched him climb to the top and with one hand he cranked the wheel on the door to loosen it, until it popped open like a cork revealing the night sky and its stars.

As soon as he pulled himself up and out of the tunnel, Michonne followed.

One by one, they climbed out, until it was just her and Dougie left in the tunnel.

He stood there, staring up through the hole, at the black sky.

Pearl lowered her rifle and stepped up to him. "Dougie, go."

He shook his head violently, not looking away from the outside. "No. I can't do this. I told myself I wouldn't die at the hands of one of those things and me climbing up out of this tunnel makes the odds of that happening about a hundred times more likely."

Pearl grabbed his arm and yanked on it, drawing his gaze in her direction. "You are not gonna die. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen and they've all got your back too. Now, look back there." She turned her eyes to the endless dark behind. "If you go back, you're really on your own."

He stared at the darkness a moment longer, then glanced back at her. "Promise me I won't die."

"Walkers!" she heard Michonne yell from above, then the sound of knives hitting skulls.

"Stay here until we say it's clear," Pearl pushed past him and speed climbed up the ladder. Her head popped up and all she could see was the backs of her people fighting off a steady stream of the dead surrounding the group. They were coming from around every corner of the city block. She pushed herself up and slid the knife from her holster, stepping in place with the rest.

Pearl grabbed onto the shoulder of the one with its sight set on her and used it to steady her strike as she stabbed it in the head. The thing carried her to the ground with it, her knife firmly lodged in its head. Pearl struggled to pull it out, but when she managed to, she stood back up and went after another one.

"Too many," she heard Michonne say above the noise of the chaos. "We gotta clear a path and then run."

Shit. Dougie. "Someone cover me!" she said, yanking her knife out of one, then backing up toward the hole. "I gotta get Dougie."

"I got you." She heard Vanessa say and didn't have a moment to consider who'd volunteered to keep an eye out for her before she kneeled in front of the hole with her back to the dead.

She stuffed her knife back into its holster, then slid the rifle off her shoulder, pointing its light down into the hole. Dougie stood at the bottom, frozen. "Come on! We gotta get out of here."

He dallied.

"Get your ass up here! Now! We don't have time!"

Her snappish tone jolted him into movement. Dougie hurried to the ladder and began climbing.

Behind her, she heard the dead growling, knives being plunged, and corpses falling to the ground. But she kept her eyes on Dougie, who was now only two steps from grabbing her hand.

He looked up from the ladder and his eyes widened. "Pearl, behind you!"

She felt a pair of hands grab her forearms and in a split second realized this wasn't a living person. Then the next; the rifle fell out of her grip and plummeted into the tunnel, her elbow jutted back and she knocked the thing away from her.

But it was gone only momentarily, it came for her again and pushed her onto her backside.

Pearl grabbed at its throat with both of her hands, shoving it away to arms length. She held it there as it gnashed its teeth and countered her hold, trying to get at her.

She knew she wouldn't be able to hold the position for long; her body wasn't strong enough. Her arms would give out and the thing would fall on top of her and then...

Pearl needed leverage. Needed to push it off of her and regain control.

She was about to try when all at once she heard a knife connecting to its skull and the body above her froze.

She flung the corpse to the side and found Rick standing above her. He held his hand out. "Let's go."

As she was pulled up, she spotted Vanessa standing off to the side watching her with a menacing smile.

She didn't have time to process it before she thought about... Dougie.

Pearl went back to the hole, but Michonne already had Dougie lifted halfway out. Pearl took his other hand and helped to lift him the rest of the way, before pushing him ahead and running behind him.

xXx

The group ran until they reached the highway, which was packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic, frozen in time. It went for miles. They weaved through the maze of cars and only slowed to a stop when they reached a roadblock of overturned vehicles they had to climb over.

The group lined up; one by one they each carefully stepped onto the hood on one side and climbed over the mound to jump into the cleared path on the other side.

Pearl saw Vanessa about to take her turn. The anger that had been coursing through Pearl as she'd come to terms with what Vanessa had tried to do back there, fueled her as she ran up and grabbed the back collar of Vanessa's jacket and dragged her down.

Vanessa, who'd been in mid-step-up, fell onto her ass. "What the-"

Pearl yanked her up by her collar and slammed her back into the car beside them.

"Hey! Hey!" She heard others yell.

"She was gonna let that thing kill me," Pearl said right into Vanessa's face.

"Get your fucking hands off of me," Vanessa said.

"You try something like that again-"

"What? You gonna kill me?" she spat. "You're a good guy now, remember?"

"I haven't gone so soft that I won't beat your ass."

Someone pulled Pearl away and she went without a fight.

Vanessa pushed off of the car and stood up straight, dusting herself off, before she was shoved back against the car by Michonne, whose hand held her there.

"You pull that shit again, Pearl won't even have to bother," Michonne said to Vanessa. "It'll be me. You chose to be out here, that means looking out for each other. Not feeding each other to the walkers. Now, if that doesn't work for you. You can go." She pointed in the direction from which they'd come.

Vanessa's hardened face softened, melted away under the heat of Michonne's stare. She nodded.

Michonne let her go.

"We good?" Rick asked Vanessa.

"Yeah," she muttered.

He looked at Pearl, his eyes asking her the same question.

"Yeah."

"Alright. We need to get going." He glanced at his watch. "There's only a few hours of night left and we can't be out in the open when the sun comes back up."

xXx

The night rolled into morning right before Jadis' eyes. The power still hadn't been restored but it didn't matter; the sun streaming through the window lit the silent conference room.

Lieutenants sat around the table she was at the head of. Her eyes scanned over each one, who she was certain was hesitant to answer the question she'd just posed, "Does anyone have any real answers for what the hell is going on?"

She'd rather they keep their mouth shut, though, instead of prattling on about their assumptions. It would only irritate her more.

She did know one thing. There was no such thing as coincidence, and all of this had Rick Grimes written all over it.

Jadis had believed he'd bought into the one true and righteous cause left on this dying earth. But the intricacy of the attack last night was a sign that Rick Grimes had never been one of them. He'd been laying in wait, building up a nest of allies. But who? Besides Pearl and Michonne, who else did he have?

Her eyes trailed over the faces in the room, each one avoiding contact with her. Someone in this room could be with him.

There was only one she was certain of. "Everyone out. Except for Lieutenant Howard."

The room stood and filed out, leaving the two of them alone. "I want you to call off the search teams. Pull the helos back."

"Ma'am I wouldn't advise that. They're here, we just have to find them."

"The way we're going, we'll never get to them before Beale gets back. And I won't have him walking into this shitstorm."

"So, what do we do?"

"We make it so they have no other choice but to come out of hiding."

Standing by the door of her apartment with R.J. and Judith's backpacks in hand, Carol lifted her wrist and looked at her watch. "Let's go," she called. "We're gonna be late."

"Coming!" Judith called back.

"Aunt Carol, I need help!" R.J. yelled.

She set the backpacks down and made her way to R.J.'s room.

When she didn't find him in the bedroom, she walked through to his bathroom, where he stood in front of the mirror with slumped shoulders, a comb in hand, and his hair as matted as when he'd woken up. "It hurts," he said, looking at her in the mirror.

"Here." Carol walked to stand behind him and grabbed the comb from his hand. She went to push it through his hair but stopped when she noticed how dry it was. She met his eyes in the mirror. "Have you been moisturizing your hair?"

R.J. shrugged his shoulders. That would be a 'no'.

Carol grabbed the bottle of moisturizer from his counter and squirted a dollop into her hands. She massaged it through his hair. "You have to start doing this stuff on your own, you're getting older now. I can't keep babying you."

"I know. I just forget sometimes."

"Well, let's try to remember from now on, okay? Hand me the comb." As she combed through, she stole glances at him in the mirror. His eyes were downcast, and when she looked over his shoulder, she saw they were trained on the fingers he was fiddling with. "You doing okay?" she asked.

"Fine."

"You can tell me if you're not."

He was quiet for a moment before he shrugged again. "I miss mom," he said.

Carol finished combing through his hair and then placed her hands on his shoulders. "I miss her too."

R.J. looked up at her in the mirror. "You do?"

"Yeah. She's my family too... but she'll be back, she's better than anyone else I know out there."

"Even Uncle Daryl?" he asked with wide eyes.

She nodded. "Just don't tell him I said it."

R.J. smiled. "Okay." But it faded only a moment later. He turned around to look up at her. "Do you think she'll come back with my dad?"

She stared down at him. "I won't lie to you. I don't know." Michonne was good, but Carol wasn't sure if she was that good. She understood why she'd followed the cold trail; they were cut from the same cloth and if it were her, she would have too. Carol wasn't sure, though, how Rick could have survived out there after the explosion on the bridge. But for the sake of them all, she hoped Michonne could find something that gave them closure. "I'm not going anywhere and neither is Judith or Ezekiel and when your mom gets back, neither will she. I'm sorry I don't have a different answer for you."

"It's okay," he said, still looking dejected.

"What do you say I come to have lunch with you today? There's still some cake left over from Judith's birthday. I can bring you a piece."

His eyes lit up. "Yes!"

"Is your wound still bothering you?"

Pearl looked beside her, at Rick. "Hasn't stopped," she answered. It was just the two of them, walking through their grid of woods in search of food. They'd brought enough basic rations to last them the trip there and back, but anything fresh they could catch in the woods was better than some bland MREs. They'd scheduled in time that morning to hunt before they started back on the road for the day.

Before they'd paired off to go in search, Pearl had caught Rick and Michonne huddled up, talking in hushed tones. So, it hadn't been a surprise when Michonne had volunteered to go with Vanessa and Rick had chosen to go with Pearl. She was too damn old for a babysitter and she certainly wasn't Dougie, who she'd left in the abandoned industrial factory they'd spent the night in, with two people to watch over him.

"We can rest for a minute," Rick said.

She was getting ready to say no, but her mouth formed to reply, "Okay," before she could stop it.

He nudged his head to the abandoned car up ahead. "There."

They made their way over. Pearl climbed up to sit on the roof. And Rick sat on the hood. It felt good to rest.

After reaching the wooded outskirts of Philly minutes before the sun rose, where the cover of trees made it hard for any CRM helicopters to spot them, the group had slept a few hours before branching off in search of fresh meat. And though Vanessa had agreed to a truce, Pearl hadn't trusted her not to stick a knife in her head while she slept and had offered to keep watch for the others. "Mind if I close my eyes for a minute?"

"Go for it."

Pearl lowered onto her back and stared at the birds flying through the sky for a second, before slipping her eyes shut.

She worked hard to silence her brain, to no avail. All the heavy stuff she'd pushed off in favor of focusing on the mission popped back up. Arthur. Antonio. Beale. Jadis. Her eyes opened. At least her body would get some rest. "Does it feel weird, being outside the walls after all these years?" She asked Rick.

He was quiet, a beat, before saying, "Feels like I've been asleep all this time. Like in there was just a dream. And out here, this is real life."

"I know what you mean. The moment I saw Arthur, it was like everything I'd lived through the past decade didn't happen. Like time had frozen with him."

"I understand why you took it how you did. But you should know that every time Dougie and I met up, he made me give him a report on you for Arthur. I mean all I knew was what I saw of you in passing but it didn't matter. He wanted any little bit he could get."

"He's a good man," she admitted. "That, I do not doubt. But he's the one who taught me that actions are what matter."

"Well… as a father of a daughter myself, I hope she takes my word when I tell her I tried getting back to her all these years.

"It's not the same."

"Yeah, I guess."

The conversation fizzled and Pearl tried again to get a little sleep. She closed her eyes.

"Did you know?" She heard Rick ask. "Did you know about my son?"

Pearl sighed and her eyes opened again. "Yeah. I did. Beale has a vested interest in you, for some reason. I never understood it. He had someone go to Alexandria every couple of years to get fresh photos, just in case."

"When was the last time?"

"A couple months ago."

"So, they're safe. They're okay?"

"Yeah, I read the report. It always came to me before going to Beale." She sat up. "They're fine, but they're not in Alexandria anymore. Alexandria is still there but a number of your people moved to a bigger community in Ohio."

Rick turned his head slowly, the anger on his face was palpable. "What is it called?"

"The Commonwealth."

Pearl watched Rick's jaw clench. She saw him push off of the hood and slowly walk away from the car. He wiped both of his hands over his face.

"That motherfucker-" Rick whirled around, all that rage all of a sudden aimed at her. "Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Beale was planning to take out The Commonwealth. He had me in the room when he was planning it. Promised me Alexandria wouldn't be harmed. And he knew they were there. He was gonna let me use those explosives on…" he couldn't even finish.

Oh my God. "Rick I promise you I had no idea."

"But if things hadn't gone the way they did, your signature would have been on that order too, right next to Beale's."

He was right; it was all the same. The Commonwealth might as well have been Campus Colony or Portland or Omaha. It was all the same. "I never said sorry." Her voice was small; Pearl rubbed her arms. "Mostly because 'sorry' seems like such a... little word to offer in exchange for atonement for what I did to you. But I am - sorry, Rick. I know that probably means next to nothing to you, but I am. And I promise you, I'll do whatever I have to do to get those explosives. Beale won't get his hands on them."

He blew out a frustrated breath and stared at the ground, before glancing up at her. "It's like you said, actions are what matter. And you're out here after taking a bullet for my wife, so I'd say that speaks volumes."

At a rustling behind them, Pearl and Rick both drew their weapons. Her grip loosened on the trigger when she spotted a deer meandering through the woods. Pearl slid off the roof and began slowly advancing toward it.

Rick blocked her with an outstretched arm. "I got it."

"I'm capable of killing a damn deer. I'm hurting, not helpless." She tried pushing past Rick, but he wouldn't let her. She lowered her rifle. "What's so special about this deer?"

Rick raised his gun and put his eye to the scope. He followed the deer as it walked and the moment it stopped, Rick squeezed the trigger. She didn't even see the bullet, just the deer falling.

Rick dropped his rifle and glanced to the side at her. "The deer's not special. I just- I'd like to be the one to bring it back."

"And why's that."

She peeped a slight redness creeping up under his beard. "I owe one to Michonne."

"You owe her a deer?"

"It's a long story."

"Oh, this I gotta hear-"

"No." He stomped off. "It's an inside thing," he called back to her. "Come on. Help me take this back."

Carol was on her way to the school, with her brown bag lunch in one hand and a tupperware container with two pieces of cakes in it in the other, when the walkie-talkie on her hip buzzed.

"Carol. Come in." She recognized the voice as Ezekiel's.

"I'm on my way to have lunch with R.J., what is it?" she said into the speaker.

"There's someone in the interview room requesting our presence. Someone who says they know us. I'm on my way. Meet me there?"

"Who is it?" Could it be- the thought had no sooner crossed her mind than she asked, "Is it Michonne?" No. Her brain supplied her with the answer the moment the words left her mouth. Michonne would have gone to Alexandria first and Gabriel or Aaron would have radioed them letting them know she was there.

"I didn't get a name," Ezekiel said. "But they would have said if it was her. Can you come?"

She looked at the tupperware in her hands. "Give me fifteen minutes."

Carol dropped the cake off at the school office with a note telling R.J. she was sorry and that she'd make up for it, and then she was on her way to the wall.

xXx

Carol made it to the building that sat right inside the gates, five minutes later than she'd promised Ezekiel. They'd just finished construction on the building the month before, so she stepped over leftover pieces of plywood strewn on the sidewalk leading to the entrance door.

Gone were the days of the detainment center. They disbanded it as soon as Pamela had been dethroned. Now, when strangers found them, they were subject to a simple interview by soldiers who had been retrained by Mercer. Most people were let in and on the off chance they weren't, they always sent them off with food and supplies enough to last them at least a week.

She stepped into the waiting room and waved at the soldier sitting at the desk. "Afternoon."

"Hey. Room two."

"Thanks." She walked back through the hallway past the door marked with a 'one' on it and went to turn the handle on the knob of room two. And she froze in the frame of the door, at the sight of the last woman she ever expected to see again.

Anne sat at the interview table, beside another woman—Hispanic with a disheveled bob. Carol didn't recognize her. Ezekiel and the processing officer were on the other side.

Anne's face was unchanged, but the rest of her was not what Carol remembered. Her once shoulder-length hair was now shaved off; she wore a buzz cut.

And when Anne scraped her chair back and stood, Carol noticed that the woman was way more well-built than she'd been before.

"Carol. Oh my god." Anne made her way around the table and pulled Carol into her arms.

She bristled but accepted the hug.

"We didn't know what we were walking into," Anne said, still holding onto her. "Never in a million years did I think I'd see a familiar face."

Carol pulled away when the hug went on for too long. They'd worked together at the bridge, but Carol didn't know her enough to warrant the type of hug she'd give someone like Michonne or Daryl if it had been they who returned.

"I'm sorry," Anne said, her face showing embarrassment. "I forgot you weren't the hugging type."

"No, it's alright. I was just surprised."

Ezekiel stood. "It's incredible, isn't it, how small the world is now?" he motioned for Carol to take his seat.

She moved to sit down beside the Processing Officer, with his pen and notepad out in front of him, as Anne went back to her seat. "So, where have you been all this time?" She asked, settling into the chair.

"Well," She blew out a breath and gave a little laugh. "I've been to a lot of places. Met a lot of people over the years. But I never found anything like Alexandria out there."

"You just disappeared one day," Ezekiel said. "Didn't say a word to anyone. We were worried."

Anne glanced self-consciously at the woman at her side. Carol looked too. The woman was younger than Anne. And she, like Anne, looked dirty and beaten up. Surely they'd been out there a while.

"After I was accused of killing that savior-" Anne finally said. "Which I didn't do, by the way..." she quickly added, in her friend's direction.

"That was proven," Ezekiel assured. "Sorry everyone was so quick to put it on you. They were just scared."

"Yeah, well, after that I just couldn't see myself living among people who didn't trust me."

"Understandable," Ezekiel said.

"Is everyone here?" Anne asked "Gabriel. Is he here?"

At the worried look on her face, Carol recalled that Gabriel and Anne had been... well, she wasn't quite sure what they'd been. She'd observed them together a few times and saw the spark there, but she hadn't known it was that deep. "He's fine. Alexandria still stands, but this place took us in when we fell on hard times. Even after we rebuilt, some of us stayed."

Anne processed the news for a moment. "So do you have room for two more?"

Carol turned her attention to the other woman. "What's your name?"

She cleared her throat. "Millie Howard."

"How'd the two of you meet?"

"My family and I lived on a community college campus for years, in Kentucky. My father was a professor there. When everything started happening, they evacuated the campus so the kids could go be with their families. It was already gated, so my father thought it would be the safest place for us. Other people came and we built a small community. We were good for years. Anne found us right before things went bad."

"Bad?"

"When you have something good, it means other people are either gonna want to be part of it or take it from you. Just so happens for us it was the latter. Anne and I were part of the small group that survived. The others died out there." Her voice hitched and she looked down, wiping at the tears that sprung free. "I'm sorry." She dropped her head and cleaned the corners of her eyes with the end of her dirty overshirt.

"It hasn't been that long," Anne said, rubbing her friend's back.

Carol's heart went out to the woman. The most recent wounds were the ones that stung the most when reopened. But she knew that with time, Millie would be able to remember them with great fondness instead of grief. It had taken her years, but she could finally think about Sophia and Henry and remember all the beautiful memories she'd shared with them.

"No need to apologize," Ezekiel said. "Everyone in this room can relate."

Carol looked back at the man with whom she shared custody of one specific loss. Her mouth turned up in a small comforting smile.

He set a hand on her shoulder, then looked back at Anne and Millie. "You know what, I think we've heard all we need to."

The Officer beside Carol looked up from the notebook he'd been diligently writing notes in. "But we haven't gone through all the questions."

"We can later," Ezekiel said with the stern tone he only used on the rare occasion when he wanted to pull rank. He was a more collaborative leader than Pamela, but from time to time he let people know he was in charge. "I think these two need a hot meal and a warm bed to rest in, not more questions. Don't you think Carol?"

She looked over the women once more. "Yeah, we'll finish later."

"This is only temporary." Carol pushed the door open on one of the apartments they used for new people. Millie and Anne trailed into the tiny studio behind her. "It's just until we settle where to place you permanently. Just a couple of days."

She stayed in the doorway while they surveyed everything in the room; the kitchenette, the twin bed and couch, and the only interior door. "There's a bathroom through there."

"This is the best we've had in a long time," Millie said, with a warm smile.

"Yes. Thank you, Carol," Anne said.

"There should be fresh towels in the bathroom and there are extra sheets in the cabinet for the sleeper couch. I'll bring a meal in a couple of hours. If you need me in the meantime, I'm two buildings over. Five oh three." She turned to walk out of the door.

"Hey, Carol?" Anne said.

"Yeah." She turned back.

"Rick and Michonne? Did they move here too?" Carol caught the inkling of fear on her face.

"No... Rick died years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry... Michonne too?"

"She's been on a scouting mission, looking for more communities out there." It was the story she, Ezekiel, and Daryl had told everyone else. It was easier, for the kids, to keep their parents dead and missing in the eyes of everyone else.

"And their children?"

Carol narrowed her eyes. How'd she know they had more than one child? She'd left well before Michonne found out she was pregnant. "You knew they had another child?"

Anne's lip twitched. "Oh, no. I just assumed. Michonne had mentioned to me she thought she might be pregnant."

"I didn't know you two were such good friends." Then again, she hadn't been in tune with the goings on in Alexandria at the time, seeing as she'd been living in the Kingdom. Still, Michonne and Anne seemed like an odd pairing. "The kids are fine, they live with me now."

"That's great of you, taking them in."

"It's what we do. Well-"

"This might not be proper etiquette, especially considering how much you have already done for us, but would it be too much trouble to ask if we could come by for dinner? It's just been so long- it'd be nice to share a meal with other people."

"You wouldn't even have to cook," Millie cut in from behind. "People have told me, a time or two, I'm a kick-ass chef."

The day had been long and Carol was not in the mood to entertain. She sighed inwardly; how was she supposed to say no to that ask, though? "Come by in an hour. I'll take care of dinner."

"Carol, I promise you this is not hyperbole..." Millie said, setting her fork on her spotless plate; no remnants of the ham tetrazzini left there. "But that was the most delicious meal I've ever had. Before and after." She wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin.

They were all—Carol, Ezekiel, Judith, R.J., Anne, and Millie—sitting around the dining room table of the apartment. Their respective plates were spotless, even R.J.'s, who was a notoriously picky eater. She figured it was due in part to the traumatizing experience of having to eat horse meat.

"Wait until you taste the apple pie she made," Judith said, smiling at Carol. "Aunt Carol makes the best desserts."

"Oh, my mouth's been watering, smelling it cooking all this time," Anne said.

Carol slid her chair out. "I'll go cut some pieces."

Ezekiel shot up. "No, no I got it." He began gathering the dirty plates. "It's the least I can do."

"Youjust wanna cut yourself the biggest piece," R.J. said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"Shh. Don't go giving away my secrets, man."

R.J. slapped a hand over his mouth to hide his giggles.

"Come help, wise guy- make sure I cut fair."

R.J. popped out of his seat and followed after Ezekiel.

"It's uncanny, just how much he looks like Rick and Michonne," Anne said, staring at him through the kitchen's service window.

Carol looked at Judith the moment the words came out of Anne's mouth, and she was immediately pissed off when she saw Judith's face fall along with her eyes, to the table.

"I wish I could have thanked them for all they did for me. Rick was such a good man. Taking me in, despite our differences. I remember when-"

Carol cleared her throat. "Maybe we could talk about something else."

Anne shot her eyes at Carol, who nudged her head in Judith's direction. Anne looked and her face changed instantly, she seemed to notice her gaffe. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean- Judith." Anne waited until she looked at her. "Your father was the best man I've ever known. I just want you to know that."

"Thanks," Judith said politely, even though the sadness on her face was still present.

"Who wants pie!" Ezekiel announced, coming back into the room.

Carol was grateful for the interruption.

Carol's unfocused eyes were narrowed, trained on the water flowing from the faucet. Their visitors had left an hour before and ever since, Carol hadn't been able to take her mind off of Anne.

"The sink's about to overflow," she heard Ezekiel say. He stood beside her lathering soap onto a dish.

She flipped the faucet handle off and took the soapy plate he offered her, dipping it into the clean water. "What did you think of those two?"

"They seem like normal people. Whatever normal is now."

"Yeah, but Anne... does she seem different to you?"

"It's been years since the last time I've been around her. I'd say it'd be more odd if she weren't changed. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. When she was asking Judith about her parents, I just got a feeling."

"A feeling?"

She set the rinsed dish on the drying rack and turned around, leaning back against the counter. "Yeah, it was fleeting and I couldn't even describe it now, but..." Maybe she was just being paranoid. "I don't know."

"I agree it was in poor taste, bringing that up to Judith, but other than that they both seemed pleasant. They haven't been around people in a long time, give 'em a break. Social skills go out the window when you're out there."

"Yeah, maybe." But still, she needed to talk to them more in the morning, see if there was any merit to what she was feeling. Because she'd learned a long time ago not to ignore the feelings she got about people. After all, she had an intuition for a reason. "You got this?"

"I got it."

Carol pushed off the counter. "I'm gonna go make sure the kids are getting ready for bed. Lock up on your way out?"

"Will do."

Carol stopped at R.J.'s room first and ignored the flashlight that shone under his cover, Taking after his brother, she thought. She remembered Rick getting onto Carl at the prison about staying up too late reading comic books when he was supposed to be sleeping.

She closed his door and went next to Judith's. She sat up in her bed staring down at the necklace she wore, that was stretched out between her fingers.

"Hey, ready for lights out?" Carol asked.

Judith looked up. "Yes, ma'am." She slid under her covers.

"Sorry about dinner."

"It's okay," Judith said, getting comfortable.

"It's not. You were having a good night and then-"

"It was nice, actually, to hear someone else talk about mom and dad. Makes it feel like they don't just exist in our little bubble. You know?"

"I do."

"So you're okay?"

"I'm good, Aunt Carol. You don't have to worry about me."

"I know." She flicked the light off and shut the door.

Ezekiel popped his head into Mercer's office the next morning, to the guy sitting behind his desk reading over paperwork. "Hey, man. You seen Carol around here? It's not like her to be this late."

"Wasn't she gonna show the new people around?"

"Yeah, but not until later. She wanted to give them time to rest."

"I'm sure she's just working on something offsite. You know Carol, she's always got something going."

"Yeah. I'm probably just overreacting. Thanks."

"Yup."

Ezekiel walked past Carol's empty office, which was right beside Mercer's, to his own. He entered, just as his secretary was placing a note on his desk. "What's that?"

She turned, startled. "Oh. You're here. I thought you stepped out. The school called, asking if either you or Carol would stop by with an absence form before the end of the day since R.J. and Judith weren't coming in today. And Carol's not answering her radio so I guess they tried you next."

The kids didn't come in today. Carol's not answering her radio. Ezekiel swiped his keys from the desk and ran out of the office.

xXx

Ezekiel's hands shook as he worked the apartment key into the knob. Carol wasn't someone who flaked on work or let the kids skip school. Never, not once, had she not picked up her radio, even in the dead of night when there was a town emergency, she was there.

Ezekiel pushed the door open. "Carol! Judith! R.J.!" he yelled, hurrying toward the kids' rooms first. His hand paused on Judith's door when he heard the muffled cries coming from Carol's room down at the end of the hall. He ran to her door and when he went to turn the knob, it wouldn't give. He took one step back and charged, shoulder first, into it. It broke open in one go.

He found Carol thrashing against the restraints that had her tied to the headboard railings, with a cloth gag in her mouth.

Ezekiel pulled his pocket knife out and flicked it open, sliding it underneath the restraints, and slicing them off, careful not to knick her skin.

Once free, Carol removed the gags.

"Who did this?" he asked, cutting off the zip tie that had her legs bound.

"I don't know." She panted and her words came fast. "I think they stuck me with something while I was sleeping. I didn't hear a thing. And I was drowsy when I woke up." She pushed off the bed and nearly stumbled to the ground, but he caught her. Carol steadied herself against his chest, and Ezekiel followed her as she stumbled down the hallway to Judith's room.

Carol pushed through the door and Ezekiel's hands curled into a fist at the sight of the empty bed.

Judith's eyes flew open. She breathed hard, trying to make out the fuzzy world around her. She kept blinking until what was in front of her was made clear; the lady from dinner—Anne—sat with her legs crossed across from Judith. But she was dressed differently now, in a black and scary-looking... uniform? And the other lady—Millie—was there beside her wearing the same thing.

Anne smiled at her, but it was a different smile than the ones she'd given at dinner. It wasn't real. Judith could tell by Anne's eyes. They were darker now, not bright like before. She'd seen it in all the bad people she'd come across—like the light switch wasn't on in there or something. Judith felt like she needed to run, to be anywhere but in front of this lady. But when she tried moving her arms and legs she couldn't. She looked down and found them zip-tied.

Then her body jerked and slid into the wall, and the car they were in went sideways.

But, wait, cars don't do that.

Judith looked to the side window and saw trees and houses and roads and water passing below them. Oh my god! Are we in the air!?

Judith looked back at Anne, who was still watching her, and she was about to open her mouth to ask the question when she felt something heavy pressed against her shoulder. She looked to the side and saw the top of R.J.'s head. Then her eyes went lower; his hands and legs were tied too. "R.J. wake up." She shook him with her shoulder, but he didn't budge. Her eyes shot back to Anne. "What did you do to him?"

"Don't worry, it was just a tiny sedative. Gave you the same thing. He'll wake up in just a little bit."

"Where are you taking us? Why are you doing this?"

"It'll all become clear very soon." Anne leaned forward and Judith pressed her back against the cushioned seat. "Cheer up Sweetheart, I'm taking you to where your parents are."

Her heart raced and when she turned her head to look out the window again, she saw a walled city all lit up and surrounded by darkness.