Last chapter was one of the shortest so far. So here's the longest, my treat.

Clink.

I listen to the walker caught on Sasha's sound trap. Bottles and cans clatter as the string they're attached to is pulled taut by the corpse.

Clink.

I watch as the walker falls to the ground, expressionless eyes staring up at the moon. Sasha wiping her knife as she goes back to her watch.

Poking the dim fire with a stick, I look around the group. Bob's fast asleep, buried beneath a plastic tarp as he snores heavily, the sound is something I find oddly comforting.

Sasha sits with her back against a tree facing the direction we came from, rifle in one hand, stifling a yawn behind her jumper sleeve with the other. Maggie is past the dense tree line, smearing a dark red, foul-smelling ink she had gotten from a walker's chest, onto the side of an electrical box beside the tracks, leaving something written in blood that I can't quite read through the dark.

After a long time spent convincing myself, I get up and walk over to Sasha, no words leaving my cut lips as I stand above her. She brings her eyes up to meet mine without moving her head.

There's a brief moment of bewilderment before she realises what I'm offering. Nodding gratefully, Sasha gets up and fishes through her bag, pulling out the Beretta that once belonged to me. I hesitate, but Sasha doesn't relent until I take the pistol gingerly.

After holstering the gun on the small of my back, its old home greeting it quietly, I sit down against the tree, and Sasha settles under the tarp with Bob, elbowing him when his snoring persists.

With my head against the rough surface of the tree, I watch the tracks through the tree line, anticipation filling me. A twig snaps to my left, making me flinch. I sigh out a breath of relief when I realise it's Maggie, as she perches down beside me, hands bloody. I offer her a bottle of water which Sasha left behind, Maggie takes it, cleansing her hands of the dead.

"I'm glad you're here," she tells me. "Those two were startin' to make me feel like a third wheel," she gestures towards the tarped couple.

I almost smile at this but catch myself.

She goes on, drying her hands on her jeans as she speaks. "Y'know, that look you have," she leans her head back against the tree's rough bark, watching the lucid sky as she keeps speaking, stars flickering down at us. "Staring into space, tryin' to escape everything," she elaborates, "I know that look. Despite all those bruises, I think there's also something else is eating you up."

My voice is small and breaks when I finally find the strength to use it.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," Maggie reassures me.

"I- I told her everything about us, where the bus was heading," I rasp.

"The bus didn't make it," Maggie tells me, "People turned on board. Barely made it a few miles from the prison."

"Other people might go there looking for the bus. They might get caught because of what I said."

"It's not you're fault, Rhys," Maggie tells me as I push my back against the tall beech tree.

"When we were at war with Woodbury," Maggie's words are soft to the open sky, "Glenn and me, we got captured by the Governor, and Glenn was beaten within an inch of his life for information. In the end, I was the one that told the Governor what he wanted, how many people we had and where the prison was."

Maggie's voice is now shaking, but she doesn't stop talking.

"That's how I knew it wasn't the bruises. Because after we got free. I hated myself for giving in."

I breathe out heavily, trying to focus on it.

Maggie goes on, "We both went through hell, and it took me some time to feel normal again," she exhales, "But I did."

I can't hold it back anymore. Tears are streaming down my face, but I manage to keep silent. Maggie knows why.

"I'm sorry," I tell her again.

"Rhys, you don't need to keep-"

"Not- not about that... Your Dad."

Maggie goes quiet beside me, her breaths hitch on the cold air. The air that smells of fire smoke and walker guts.

Maggie finds her words, "I'm glad he didn't see it... the prison. I'm sure he knew where it was going, but I'm glad he didn't see the smoke."

"I wish I could forget the smoke. I can still smell it, taste it. I- I had a chance. In the bus. I had a shot at The Governor, maybe I could have-"

"Rhys," Maggie cuts me off harsher than she means too. "We all had a shot at The Governor, even if we'd got him first, there were a million ways it could have gone wrong."

I find solace in this. I start Wondering if I'm searching for a reason for Maggie to hate me.

"I don't know if anyone else made it," Maggie tells me, "But I believe they did. I believe that Glenn is following these signs. I have too."

I want to ask Maggie about Beth. I want to ask if she thinks Beth is alive, why we're not looking for her too. But I know Maggie doesn't have an answer.

"Did you get out with Carl?" Maggie whispers.

I nod.

"Is he-"

"Gone."

Maggie just stares at me.

"He's not dead," I croak, "at least, not that I know of. He escaped." my vision was blurry. "She told me if I didn't talk about the prison, and everything else. She said she would kill him."

A knowing sound escaped Maggie's lips.

I turn my head to her, "What?"

"We're so alike."

"How?"

She meets my eyes, putting on a brave grin, "With The Governor- I had to save Glenn's ass too."

She gets a small noise out of me this time. Maybe it was laughter, and I'm grateful for it, grateful that together we can quietly spend a moment to forget about everything else and just sit under this tree.

Morning comes quickly and with rain in tow. Maggie has a look of disappointment on her face. I can tell she's thinking about Glenn, after filling me in on the details last night, I understand why she's not looking hopeful.

She wakes up the other two while I take down the sound traps surrounding our campsite. My leg is feeling better with the painkillers Bob has prescribed me, my ribs still burn, but Bob tells me they'll heal on their own with time.

I find myself watching the tracks, relieved that nothing more than walkers came up them last night.

With the others wearily getting themselves together, I shove the bottles and cans into Maggie's backpack and pull up the camo hood of my sleeveless jacket, ready for the drizzly walk ahead with Daryl's poncho still draped around my shoulders.

As we step from the cover of the trees and onto the tracks, I look at the bloody letters Maggie had smeared onto the electric box last night.

GLENN,

CAMPING HERE TONIGHT-

TERMINUS TOMORROW

-MAGGIE, BOB, SASHA, REESE.

I don't bother telling Maggie that she misspelt my name, I'm just glad that it's up there.

I walk at the back of our train with Sasha, while Bob keeps up with Maggie's eager strides. The rain begins to let up, matching the mood of the group as we see the sun peak from behind grey clouds. Hopeful but cautious.

A large cluster of walkers has been trailing us for the past hour. Every time I turn to count them, their numbers have increased, sitting at fourteen on my last turn.

"Noticed you've got Ty's beanie," Sasha tells me, "been meaning to ask-"

"I got it before," I tell her bluntly, not wanting to put any false hope into her.

She lets out a heavy breath and nods.

Then Sasha asks me, "Do you think he'll be there?"

"Terminus?"

"Yeah."

"No."

We walk a little further in silence. I tug on the beanie, quickly feeling conscious about it. A strong wind picks up, Daryl's poncho, swirling around me under the breeze.

"Do you?" I ask her.

"No, I don't." She tells me without thinking. Like she decided on her answer a long time before the question got proposed.

"Honestly," she continues, "I still don't know if I want to find out."

I think about Carl and Tyreese. I think about what I would be now without them, just some asshole on the road.

I nod at her, not in agreement, but in understanding.

"So, we do it together," she proposes, "he counted you as family, which makes us family."

I fight very hard against crying again, worried might die of dehydration at some point.

"Together?"

"Yeah."

We come upon a tunnel, an ominous tunnel, filled with darkness and an eerie silence. A titan's mouth, waiting for its next meal.

"We don't know what's in there, Maggie," Sasha tells the open air, as Maggie takes down a walker stood by the entrance, and begins opening it up in search of fresh ink.

"If we go around, we could miss Glenn," Maggie argues as she writes his name on the wall in blood.

"We have two injured, and there could be a hundred walkers in there. We might manage to take the thirteen behind us, but only out here in the light," Sasha keeps trying.

Thirteen.

Maggie finishes writing on the brick wall of the tunnel entrance, spinning to face us all. "There could be none in there. Please, Sasha, we've come this far."

Sasha looks at Bob, who just smirks and says, "Sounds like her mind's all made up."

Sasha shakes her head, "First sign of something we can't handle, we turn back."

Maggie nods, "Thank you."

So we walk into the consuming darkness, ready to be swallowed whole.

"Got a torch?" I ask Sasha.

"Nope. Got a flashlight, though."

I can't tell in the darkness if she is mocking my English dialect until she switches her torch on, and I realise she's not. She hands one to Maggie as well, who takes point while Bob follows behind her, with Sasha and I covering the rear.

The tunnel smells of damp earth, streams of water wandering past our feet from the morning rain. The walk is long and quiet, almost peaceful, until we hear the walkers behind us entering the tunnel, groans filling the space around us, polluting the silence into an infectious thunder.

Sasha shines the torch backward, revealing the infected to be closer than we thought, the echoes making it hard to tell.

"We gotta pick up the pace," Sasha yells.

So we do.

We run.

Gravel crunching beneath us, as we sprint through the dark, stumbling down a tunnel with no visible exit.

Then my leg gives up. Switches off, and causes me to trip. My ribs exploding with pain as they crunch against the ground.

"Shit," Sasha tries to lift me but stops when I cry out in pain. "What happened?"

All I can manage is a gasp, "My leg. Not good."

"BOB!" Sasha shouts as the others come back to our aid. "What's going on with him?"

Bob falls to his knees beside me, looking at my leg, not finding any new damage. "Pain before or after you fell?"

"Before," I wince at his touch.

"Okay, we'll carry him while you cover us, Mags." With his words, I am lifted by Bob and Sasha, much to my discomfort.

"I can walk!" I yell, hating the human contact.

"No, you can't," Bob explains as we slowly make our way forward, "The Pain relievers I gave you, they'll stop prostaglandin being released from your cells to your brain."

Both Sasha and I give him a confused look, our faces illuminated by Sasha's light.

He sighs, explaining as we push forward, "They stopped your leg from telling your brain to feel pain, but they can only do that for so long. You've pushed yourself too much, with all the walking today, and running was probably the nail in the coffin." Bob shouts the last few words, gunshots from Maggie behind us making it hard to hear him.

"So give me more," I tell him, struggling in his grip.

"Not how it works, Rhys. Your leg needs time to heal, or you could do permanent damage."

I give up and let Sasha and Bob continue carrying me.

The dead begin to catch up. Carrying me manages to slow us down to their speed. I see Sasha's new rife, flashing as Maggie shoots three times with it. Then I hear it click, magazine empty of bullets.

There's shouting as walkers gain on us, each flash of Maggie's handgun revealing another as they grow ever closer, teeth bared.

'This is it.'

Terrible thoughts start to enter my head. I try to push them out, but they stick to me like glue.

'Everyone's going to die in a tunnel because of me. I should have stayed with the Cavalcade.'

Then I peer over my shoulder, in time to see Maggie pointing her gun at the ceiling, emptying her last few bullets into it. I think she's crazy. She's finally lost the plot. But then the titan's throat groans and cracks as the concrete falls before the dead, catching a few beneath it and creating a wall of rubble and dust between them and us.

Bob and Sasha set me down on the tracks, all of us coughing violently from the storm of dust kicked up by Maggie's plan. The taste of dust is a welcome replacement over the blood. Bob's wound must have opened since it's weeping through his shirt. Sasha tends to it while Maggie comes to me with a bottle of water when I can't stop coughing. We all take a short time to rest. Bob refuses to give me more pain relievers, even when my leg stops burns.

We all turn to the wall of debris when we hear the walker slowly clambering over the chunks of concrete. Taking that as our cue to leave, we make our way through the tunnel as fast as my leg allows.

The light is a welcome sight, the fresh air even more so. We all take a moment to rest in the still-wet grass while taking in the un-stale air.

Sasha wanders back into the tunnel for a short time, telling us she thinks they lost our trail when she emerges again.

The tracks are quickly getting boring to look at, each plank of wood different enough from the last that it's noticeable but too similar to be entertaining.

We all remain close now, no more groups of two. The brush with death taking the wind out of us, and with this pace, Sasha recons we'll make Terminus just after nightfall.

There's a car ahead of us, parked across the tracks. I hope for some food, maybe even a Big Cat bar. I guess Sasha has similar thoughts because I notice her staring at the car intently.

Then she reaches for her gun. I do the same. Pulling my gun out from behind me and aiming where she seems to be pointing her weapon.

I don't see what she sees until I squint at the car's open window, just able to make visible the outline of two figures through it. I'm doubting if I can actually see any people until something big and red moves into view from the backseat.

We all stop as three strangers step out from the car, staring at us as they don't move either, landing us in a standoff, only they aren't pointing guns like we are.

I don't recognise them as part of the Cavalcade.

The red mass is now revealed to be a giant man with a large fur coat around his shoulders and a big orange mustache which rises as he opens his mouth to speak.

"Jesus Hitchhiking Christ..."

"We got a problem?" Maggie calls out, hand resting on her empty gun.

A man with a funny walk and impressive mullet steps forward, "Is there any chance that one of you folks goes by the moniker of Maggie?"

"Excuse me?" Maggie calls back, bemused by his question.

The Mullet looks confused at our confusion, so the third and final person steps forward. She wears a pistol on both hips, fitting clothes, and two large hooped earrings.

Hoop girl pushes the mullet aside and asks, "Either of you two Maggie?"

She points at Sasha and Maggie.

We all look between us before Maggie responds, "I'm Maggie. Who's asking?"

The giant man steps forward, machine gun over his shoulder, "Apologies for any concerns we may have raised. Matter of fact is that we coincided with a rather starstruck young man by the name of Glenn, looking for his one true woman by the name of Maggie."

I hear all of our jaws drop. Not seeing it with my gun still aimed at the strangers.

Maggie takes a few steps forward, "Where is he?"

"Exchanged hugs and kisses with him at the other end of that there tunnel. He went in there looking for you," The ginger man explains.

Mullet tries again, "We can assist you in your quest to reassembly."

"Like dick we can," the large man snaps at him.

"Abraham-" the woman with the hoops steps into their argument, and before long they are exchanging a quiet squabble.

We all look between each other, if only for a second before we turn around for the tunnel.

The man with the moustache- that the hooped earing lady called Abraham -calls out to us.

"Need a ride?"

I find myself squashed between a mullet and Maggie as we make our way back towards the tunnel in the- thankfully -family-sized car. The mullet's name is Eugene Porter. I learn this due to his non-stop talking at me as we approach the tunnel.

I stay silent. Silent and uncomfortable. Hugging myself beneath the poncho.

We drive into the tunnel, headlights illuminating the darkness ahead.

We see the rubble.

We see the Walkers.

We see Glenn.

Clearing out the dead is a lot easier with Abraham's machine gun, and the extra ammo he gifts to Sasha and Maggie.

Maggie and Glenn's 'reassembly' is something we all needed. Like all seven of us let out a breath we've been holding for days. I even found myself smiling slightly at the reunion.

Abraham has built a fire while Eugene commented on his efficiency every few minutes. Abraham finally giving him a look of what can only be described as pure irritation, which manages to shut up the mullet.

The woman with the hoops, who identifies herself as Rosita, comes back from checking the tunnel's security. With her is Tara, a girl Glenn met on the road. I recognise her as the girl with the ponytail, the girl with The Governor, but no one mentions it so I don't either, she seems cool.

While Glenn and Maggie talk with Tara and Rosita out of earshot, Abraham looks up from his fire to the rest of us, all crowded around it, trying to keep warm in the tunnel as wind whispers through it.

"You people seem to know a thing or two about keeping shit locked down tight," Abraham starts, getting glances from everyone but Eugene. "How would you like to lock it down so tight that you never have to see a speck of said shit again?"

Sasha was the first to speak up, asking him the question on the rest of our minds. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Abraham goes on, "See my compadre here," he gestures towards Mullet, "he knows spot on, what caused this little dead prick parade," he takes a pause, soaking in the looks of shock we give him, "and he knows how to cure it."

What?

Everyone is silent as the other three approach. Sasha stands up. I'm not sure why, and I don't think she's entirely sure either.

"What's up?" Glenn asks, having missed everything except Sasha staring daggers.

"He just said that he knows what caused the outbreak," Sasha is breathless.

"Yeah," Glenn sighs, with no signs of shock in his voice. "He does."

Maggie stares at Glenn, her expression impossible to read.

He continues, "Let me guess, he asked you to go to DC with him?"

Sasha opens her mouth, but Abraham's voice is what we hear, "I'm downright tickled y'all found each other," he sits up, and I can tell he's been preparing a speech. "You should spend the rest of the night celebrating."

Pause for dramatic effect.

"Because tomorrow-"

Penny in the air.

"There is absolutely no reason why the eight of us don't stuff ourselves in that van and head up to Washington."

And the penny drops.

We can't go to Washington.

We need to go to Terminus.

We need to know. I need to know. I didn't think I did. But now that we're so close?

Tara agrees with him, telling the room that Abraham is right and that she's going with him.

But we can't.

Then Eugene speaks up, "No, he's wrong. We're fifty-five percent of the way from Houston to Washington. Up until now, we've had an armoured military vehicle for transport, and we lost eight people."

My head is spinning from all this information. There's bickering amongst the group, which doesn't help.

"We're a days walk from Terminus. Who knows what they've got there."

Saved by the Mullet.

Rosita agrees with Eugene.

Sasha agrees too, "I have to see Terminus," she glances at me, "my brother could be there. We gotta know."

Bob seconds Sasha on both accounts.

I stay quiet, pretty sure that my input doesn't matter.

Abraham gets up, the fire casting a mean-looking shadow onto the wall. He agrees, his speech going on, but I don't listen. I just stare at the low flames, which are dancing in contemplation.

Where does this put me?

Thanks to Glenn's pocket watch we know that there are seven hours left until daylight. Everyone finds a spot to lie in the tunnel, spaced apart, but not too much.

A few feet from where I'm sitting between the tracks, Maggie tells Glenn about what happened. Then I notice Glenn's bag. An orange rucksack with unparticular doodles littering its surface. Carl's bag.

I stand up before I realise what I'm doing, leaving Eugene in the middle of explaining his favourite RPG. I'm walking towards Glenn and Maggie, who look up at me with united kind smiles.

"Hey, man," Glenn starts, "You all good?"

I find it hard to speak, "Sorry, I- um, I don't want to interrupt."

Glenn grins up at me, "When did you become so polite?"

Maggie hits him upside the head. "What can we do for you, sweetie?"

Again, my words don't work with me, "I just, I want to- um -do you mind if I have a look in your bag- Sir?"

Glenn, rubbing the back of his head from Maggie's assault, nods, handing me the orange bag they were using as a pillow.

"Thanks," I whisper.

taking the bag from him, I find a quiet spot on my own next the pile of walkers, rummaging through the pack. Carl's and my clothes are gone, replaced by essentials Glenn had taken from the prison. My satchel isn't inside, which I find disappointing.

I can feel some items bulging in the front pocket of the bag, so I open it and pull out the content.

Gwendolyn, Judith's toy giraffe is one of the things inside. I thumb at the soft fur of the toy, noticing its distinct and odd blue colour. I remember that day in the music room, when everything was simple. Karen was alive, Judith was alive, and Carl was with me.

The next thing I pull out of the bag is a creased photograph, the one Carl had shown me so long ago. His Mum and Dad both smiling up at me through the picture. I wonder if Rick would still smile at me if he ever finds out I sold out the group and let his son get captured. That is if Rick's even alive. I find myself unable to look at the young boy in the photo, instead, pulling back the poncho and stuffing the creased photo and blue giraffe into one of my many coat pockets, zipping them away.

I look to the last thing from the front pocket, holding it in my shaking hands.

Sitting down by the pile of walkers we had cleared in the tunnel, I look down at my hands, the book I never finished grasped tightly within them.

'Born to Run.'

I smile, greeting the faded white letters on the cover like an old friend. No bad memories attached.

I flip it open to the folded page,

Rhys,

Try Not To Fold The Pag_s!

It Ruins The Book!

-Karen xoxo

I chuckle to myself at the word 'pages,' now smeared by a tear that I'd given away a long time ago.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the battered silver bracelet Ty had given me on the worst day. I hold it in my palm for a moment, as if weighing my options. Finally ready, I slip it around my wrist, fiddling with it fondly.

I know I won't sleep like the others, and I don't want to talk, not even sure if I can. So I return the book to Glenn's bag, then return the bag to Glenn, giving the poncho to Maggie when I see her shivering in the spacious tunnel.

Finally, I join Rosita on watch. Enjoying the lack of conversation.

I think about what the bracelet meant to Karen, how everything is about choices. I realise I can do this, help protect everyone else while they're busy being normal.

A/N

Nice having some of the family back together.

Next chapter... Terminus.

Also I've given Daryl's poncho back to Maggie... I'm still deciding if I want Rhys to get it back, or if it's going to be lost to Terminus like in the show. I don't know if anyone cares about the poncho. Let me know if you have a want for Rhys to keep it, and I'll make it so. But otherwise, I'm still making up my mind.