I was able to get more work done the next day, moving out the metal doors and poles I needed to make a new gate at the front of the prison. I put them around the side of the prison in a secluded area, my new garage until I had the time to clear out one of the loading dock areas to leave my tools and the rest of my things.

At that moment, working down around the side of the prison was the smartest thing to do at that point, because I needed to weld two of the gates together which would make one side of the gate, along with a pivot point pole that would stick into the ground, making the gate easier to move open and closed with just a rope. Then I'd have to do the same thing with the other gate.

I set the first two doors up on the sawing stands so they were touching at the length of the doors, before grabbing my gloves and helmet for welding. I turned on the machine and started to touch the rod to the door.

"What are you doing?"

The voice asked from behind me before the rod could light, which made me jump and pull the metal back before the process could actually start. I spun around and lifted the mask with my other hand, seeing Carl and Patrick both standing behind me, Carl with his usual condescending look and Patrick almost sorry, like normal.

"What the hell have I told you about coming back here?!" I snapped, walking over to turn the machine off. "You could go blind!"

Carl didn't look scared, despite my yelling. Instead, his head tilted as he stared at me, holding the same look his dad would've given me if he found me doing this. His eyes flicked to the mask on top of my head and the workspace behind me.

"Dad said you're supposed to be taking the day off," he said in an accusing tone.

I almost groaned out in frustration. Rick had told me I should take the day off, something he'd tried once before, and I promptly ignored as I went into the tombs to block up the walls that had come down at the back of the prison. I don't understand why he thought this time would be any different, because other than planning new builds, there was nothing for me to do with a free day.

Maybe that's the point. A free day for me would just mean sitting around, but in that scenario would mean that I would just be sitting around for the day to end, so I could do the same amount of work tomorrow. Why? If I could just do all the work today and move on to something else, then why take a break? I had too much to do.

"I'm not taking a day off," I waved him away, hoping that would be enough for the two of them to leave and for me to get back to work. "I'm busy. Both of you go back inside. Now."

Just as I squatted down to turn the machine back on, Patrick spoke and stopped me. "Miss Ace?"

I dropped the rod and connector onto the ground, running my gloved hands over my face in frustration. "Patrick, I'm three years older than you. Don't call me miss."

"Sorry, miss—" he stopped himself before he could say it again, and I'm sure my face told him what would happen if he did. "Ace. I just thought that seeing as you're on the council and have a typically higher status, then I should address you as such. I won't do it again," Patrick promised, yet for some reason, I didn't believe it.

"What did you want?" I snapped again, hoping whatever he wanted would be short and they would both just leave faster.

Patrick gave a quick nod, reminded that he had a question. "Oh, yes. I was just wondering if there's anything I can do for our newcomer to make him feel better."

If I hated Isaac, my main suggestion would be that Patrick try to hang out with him and bring him food or something to make him feel better. But Patrick could be exhausting to be around on good days, and Isaac was going through too much to be bothered by a teenager almost four years younger than he was.

"Just leave him alone," I told him.

"But—"

"Patrick," I kind of snapped, just to get him to stop. "If he wants something, he'll ask for it. Now, I'm busy and you're not supposed to be back here—"

"You aren't either," Carl interrupted me.

"Fuck's sake, I'm not taking a day off!" I snapped. "Go, inside now. Both of you."

I turned back to my workspace, checking that I didn't accidentally move anything when they startled me. When I looked back again Patrick had gone, but Carl stayed. I went back to messing with the machine, hoping he'd follow suit and leave too. I couldn't get back to work with him here, or he'd go blind. But Carl made no effort to leave, which was just great.

"Is he staying?" he asked after a moment of silence.

I turned my head to the side, frowning at him in confusion. "What?"

"Isaac," he clarified with seemingly no emotion. "Is he staying here?"

"Is there a problem with him staying?" I questioned.

Carl was quiet, and his expression changed a little. Eventually, he just shook his head. "No."

"Then what's the issue?" I asked, exhausted with how long I had been kept from my work.

There was no problem, at least not for anyone else. Maybe the person with the biggest issue of Isaac staying here was Isaac, but his staying would not ever interfere with Carl or what he does. We'd brought in others, so I didn't see how that was any different here.

"We just found him," Carl said. "He stole from Daryl."

He had always been suspicious of the new people, even ones that we'd brought in after the war with Woodbury. I didn't blame his newfound suspicion after everything that had happened, but Isaac was grieving, and while he did steal from Daryl, he did give the belongings back. Overall, he was not a threat to the group.

"If he stays, he stays," I shrugged. "I don't really see what that has to do with you."

Carl pursed his lips, and his gaze turned away. I felt a little guilty about my tone when he shook his head and turned away, but I had to remind myself that the tone wasn't misheld because Carl wanted someone to leave who hadn't done anything wrong.

When he had made it around the corner, I turned on my machine, walked back over to my workspace and started making the gates.

That same day we had gotten a group of people out to chop down wood to make spikes for the area around the fences. A few of us spent our time cutting while the others just stood watch and killed any walkers that came at the sounds of the trees falling.

Michonne was supposed to be on watch, hanging around me as I slammed a tree-cutting axe into the bark of my third or fourth tree. She glanced around in a kind of wanderlust, ignoring the fact that any of us were out here cutting down and moving trees.

"You could take over here at some point, you know," I told her tiredly.

She grinned at me. "I don't think so. I got the easy job."

"It's strange that you always seem to get the easy job," I muttered.

"Don't look any further into that."

I continued slamming the axe into the tree, doing this job much slower than Daryl or Glenn while Maggie and Rick kept watch. It was harder than I thought, but I was used to it after cutting down wood to prop up the fence at the back of the prison that had come down with the fire damage to the walls.

"Hey," Michonne called, not interested in the job at hand anymore. "Look!"

Everyone rushed to join her and looked where she was pointing. I saw a small clearing up ahead, and in the middle, eating the overgrown grass were two horses. We all just stared at them for the longest time, having not seen any horses since we left the farm.

When they noticed us watching them, neither horse seemed to be bothered. They didn't run away or make any noises. They just stared back for a minute, before one clambered off into the trees nearby, followed by the other one.

"We could probably get those," Maggie stated.

"Wild horses?" Daryl questioned.

"One of 'em has a tag on its ear," Maggie pointed out. "That one wasn't wild before, so it'd be easier to tame. Daddy would know how to break 'em in. We'd just need to build a pen for 'em."

"One thing at a time," Rick told her. "There's always gonna be horses around."

"But we should really get on that," Maggie was saying. "If we had horses, we wouldn't have to keep wastin' fuel on small runs or anythin'."

"I appreciate you trying to put me out of business," I said, my eyes planted on the horse in front of me.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"I'll talk to Hershel about it," Rick said. "For now, let's get back to work. We have a lot to do."

And with that, everyone turned back to what they were doing. Rick and Daryl switched out so he could rest and take a turn on watch while Rick took over bringing the trees down. Glenn didn't switch though, letting Maggie stay on watch.

Me and Michonne didn't switch either, still staring out at the clearing where we'd seen the horses, so I went back to work on the trees.

"We need those," she said to herself.

"What?"

Michonne looked back over her shoulder and shook her head. "Nothing."

I shrugged and went back to work. They were right, it probably would be better to have horses at the prison, especially since petrol would get much harder to come by the further we had to venture from the prison. Eventually, all the cars nearby would be empty, and we would have to keep going so far away to get any more fuel.

However, Hershel kept saying that after a while we wouldn't need any more fuel. He wanted us to be completely self-sustaining, and have no need to leave the prison. It had to be true at some point in the future because eventually all of the petrol would oxidise, and be completely useless in cars. We had no machinery to get any more once it was gone, so after a while, we would need more ways to get around.

Michonne finally turned away from the clearing and leaned against one of the nearby trees I hadn't gotten around to. "You know, I'm thinking about taking one of those cars out in a few days, maybe a week. We gonna have any free?"

"What for?" I questioned.

"I'm just going to go out for a few days," she said simply.

I frowned at her like this was big news. Because really, it was. Just going out for a few days was not really so casual, anymore. It's not just like popping to the shops or going out for a run. There had to be a reason to leave, to go out.

"Why?"

She turned away, chewing her lip as her eyes landed on the ground. I was still looking at her when she met my eyes again and said. "I want to find him, okay?"

"The Governor?" I asked, already knowing the answer. She'd brought it up a few times before, where he could have gone, where there'd be food for him to run off to, how far away he could've gotten by now. I'm surprised she didn't bring up leaving sooner.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Let's face it, we're not going to get him sitting around in the prison."

"I'm not just sitting around," I snapped, actually offended.

"No, I know . . ."

"Did you talk to Rick about this?"

She nodded, "I told him I was thinking about it. He wanted me to wait a little while, but he agreed. He's not happy about it, but he agreed."

I clenched my teeth and breathed out. Has no one else heard about this? Was Rick the only one? Or were they keeping it from me? Because at that moment it seemed like a way of breaking it to me that she was going out after the Governor. Maybe everyone else knew, which meant that I hadn't been told for a reason, and the thought of that made me a little angry.

"Who else knows?"

"I've been talking about it," Michonne said. "No one else knows that it's happening soon. I don't want anyone to try and stop me. Like you're doing now."

"That's not why I asked," I mumbled.

"I didn't keep this from you because I think you can't do it," Michonne promised. "I know you want it done, and maybe you shouldn't, but I get it. But you have responsibilities, a lot more than anyone else."

"Taking out the Governor is my responsibility," I told her. "I want to go out there and find him too, but I can't go anywhere with the prison in the state that it is. There's still a lot more that needs doing."

"You can't go anywhere," she corrected me. "What do I do for the place?"

I waved my hand at the trees around us, how she was helping us chop down the wood we needed to better protect the prison.

"Other than this," she said. "I don't do anything. I go on watch, I kill walkers—"

"Jobs that we need people doing?"

"We have people doing them, I'm not needed as much when we keep bringing in people that can do those jobs," she explained. "I gotta do this kid. I'll drive out for a few days and bring back what I find. I need that prick dead after Andrea."

"I know, and I want to go after him as well," I said.

"So, are we gonna have any cars?"

"Should do," I mumbled.

"Don't be like that," she nudged my shoulder. "I'm going to come back."

"You can't say that," I said. "You know anything could happen out there, especially going after the Governor. Why don't you wait until someone can go with you? I could come."

"You've got a lot going on here," Michonne said. "A lot of the stuff only you can really get done."

"Daryl could take over for me."

"And he's got his things going on, too," she argued. "This is my thing."

"Just . . ."

I had more arguments, and more reasons that she should wait, but mainly it was because I wanted to kill the Governor. It should be me. I had chances to end this before, but I was stopped or stopped myself. This time would be different, but with all the work I had it may be a long time before I had those kinds of chances again. If Michonne headed out then she could do it now, and that thought was better than the idea of me doing it myself.

"Just be careful," I finished.

"I will," she promised, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it. "It's not like before. I have things to come back to."

With that, I went back to work until finally, we had gathered enough logs that I calculated that we needed the day before. We managed to get them into the truck, which would need two trips to get them back to the prison, but Rick said he would get some of the others to help with that while me and Daryl started getting them into spikes.

"This should be more than enough for the front," Daryl said.

"Better be safe than sorry," Rick nodded. "Besides, we're always gonna need more."

Daryl thought about it for a second but then nodded in agreement, which was everyone's cue to get back in the truck to drive back to the prison.

Me and Daryl spent the rest of the day carving spikes at the end of all the logs, while the others went back to grab the ones we couldn't fit on the truck. Again, Daryl was much faster at this than me, slicing the bark from the wood with an axe and a knife.

We moved the spike back to the front of the workspace so they'd be easier to get back into the cars to align and build in front of the gate. Daryl said that would probably be tomorrow's problem because everyone would be tired today after all this work.

We worked in silence for a little while, but my conversation with Michonne kept nagging at the back of my mind. Daryl spent a lot more time around her because they had more chances to work together than me or Michonne, they did kind of the same things, but the only ones who worked on my things were me, and very rarely Daryl. This made me wonder if she'd told him about her plans.

I stopped working as I turned to him. "Did you know about Michonne?"

My question was probably out of nowhere because the first thing that came out of Daryl's mouth was: "What 'bout her?"

"That she's leaving?" I clarified.

Daryl was quiet for a moment, but he gave a nod as he wiped his arm across his forehead. "I heard her talkin' 'bout it 'fore. Didn' know if she'd go through with it or not, but talk 'bout the Governor has come up a lot more lately."

It didn't seem like he knew any more than I did, which meant that Michonne wasn't lying about telling everyone else. I felt a little better about it now, because there was no reason for anyone to keep things like this from me unless they were worried, but she didn't lie. She didn't tell anyone because she didn't want to be stopped.

"I didn't know if I should bring it up," I told him. "She didn't want anyone trying to stop her."

"If she'd told me I woulda offered to go," Daryl said.

"I doubt she wants that, either."

"I know," he nodded. "Still, worth a shot."

Maybe it was, but Michonne didn't seem like she was going to change her mind anytime soon. I'm sure me and Daryl weren't the only ones who would have offered, and maybe she had already gotten offers from Rick or anyone else she might've told.

I went back to work, mind on that situation as I continued carving the spikes. Daryl seemed to be doing the same, looking up at me a few times like he wanted to say something, but for a long time, he didn't. It worried me a little because I thought that he might still be mad about me going after Isaac's family.

After a little while, when he finished the spike he was working on, he leaned his elbows on the log. "Ya been okay?"

I nodded, kind of aware of how this conversation was going already. There were a few reasons he'd ask that question, and very few of those reasons were actually finding out whether I'd been okay. Sometimes it was used as a way of bringing up how I'd been feeling lately so they could bring up that I should do something about it and that they're worried.

"Yeah, Just busy." I wasn't complaining, just stating the obvious. I liked the work.

"I've noticed," he added, "everyone has. You've been up to a lot."

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the log and slicing down into the bark. "I don't need the lecture again."

"I wasn't—"

"If I really needed a break or any kind of day off, I'd take it." I gritted my teeth, struggling to push the axe through the log a second time. "But I don't, so I'm not. There's too much to do and we have double the people now to keep safe."

"Ace."

I was really sick of needing to have this conversation with everyone. Nothing had changed since the war, same workload. The only thing that was different now was how much more people seemed to care about what I was doing.

"I'm just tired of hearing about it," I felt physically exhausted having to say it. "Just let me be. I'm doing what needs to be done, and I'm not overdoing it. I'm not completely oblivious to my limits."

"Ace," Daryl started again. "Stop. I'm tryin'a say you're doin' good."

"And I—Oh." My mouth hung open for a second, trying to find the words. That was a completely new sentence, one that I had not heard in a long, long time. "Uh . . . Oh."

"Yeah." Daryl goes on, "You're working really hard and we see it. You're doing good things for the place. We all appreciate it."

"Yeah, well . . ." I thought about it for a second. "Try telling them that."

"They're just worried," he said. "The war was hard on everyone. The others just had more time to get over everythin'."

"What about you?" I questioned. "You didn't get much time to get over it either."

Obviously, the thing Daryl had to get over was bigger than mine. He found his brother to lose him a few days later. He hadn't spoken to anyone about that either, which is why I assumed that he wasn't pushing for me to talk about anything either.

"I'm good."

I didn't really know where to go from there, because in my experience Daryl would get agitated—as I would—if I pushed for any more details. I went over to help him with the last spikes, and by the time we had finished with that one, the others had come back with the second truck full of logs.

"You done with those?" Rick questioned.

"Yeah, basically," I said, glancing around.

"We'll all help with these," he said, looking back at the others. "We'll get it done faster."

I walked over to help Glenn and the others unload them, moving them to the work benches. We worked on the logs for maybe a few more hours, until they were all done. At this point the sun had started to go down, so as Daryl said, it was decided that we would put the gate together the next day, as there were no plans for runs for a little while so we could block off our only exit for a few days with the gate in the middle of being built.

Everyone was starving after the amount of work we'd done that day, so we all headed in around the time that Hershel and some of the others had started food. Beth was already there, eating and holding Judith and most of the others had already gotten their food.

"Has Isaac eaten?" Maggie asked.

"No," Hershel said. "I was giving him the chance to come out, but I don't think he is. I was just about to take something to him."

"I'll make him a dish," she said.

I grabbed my bowl and made my own food while Maggie worked next to me. It was porridge or oats or something, so I filled my bowl to the top. We had enough food where I could do that for now, and after the day I had, I was starving.

"Ace?" Maggie asked next to me, holding out a dish for me. "Can you take this out to Isaac?"

I just nodded, taking the food from her.

Throughout the week we had switched between doing it because he hadn't really come out of his room for anything. He'd use the bathroom or shower, and grab a meal if it meant that he didn't have to talk to anyone, but most of the time was spent in his room. Hershel said it was okay, and we'd find jobs for him if he decided he was staying after his wrist had healed.

I wasn't so sure.

It was different this time, when I made it to Isaac's room he was sitting up on the bed, drawing in a notebook, for the little I could see. I just assumed it was drawing, but whether it was just some doodles to pass the time I couldn't tell.

He didn't look up as I entered.

"Isaac," I called in the doorway, wondering whether he just didn't see me. "I brought you something to eat."

No response.

I wasn't surprised, it had been like this for everyone for the past few days. I just placed the bowl down on the desk at my side, saying "It's here for you when you want it."

After that, with no answer, I went back to the cafeteria to eat.

We spent a day getting the spikes and gates into place, mainly because we had to take out the walkers as we were putting it all together. We dug the holes out and aligned the spikes in a check shape where the gate would open to keep a clear entrance outside of the prison gate. Then we had to have four people move the gates beside the spikes. Everything apart from the system was set up today, which was my next plan.

The next morning I got my tools and ladder, before heading down the field to the front gate. I made it halfway down the field before a small voice stopped me, "Ace! Ace!"

I stopped, turning around to see me being followed by the kids, Lizzie, Mika and some of the others that often hung around outside. "You wanna play with us?" asked Mika.

"Uh, actually I'm a little busy right now, guys," I said, lifting the toolbox to show them.

"You're always busy," Mika complained.

"Yeah," Lizzie followed.

"What are you doing?" Another child I didn't recognise asked.

"Finishing the gate," I said, continuing my walk.

"Do you need help?" A boy asked.

"No, there's not really anything you guys can do for this," I shook my head. "Look guys, I really am busy. I'll play some other time."

"Okay," Lizzie huffed. "Come on, guys. Let's go play tag in the field."

I stopped as they ran off, watching as they went down towards the field. I hoped they'd play up by the prison because walkers were starting to build up at the fences and the cull crew would be out soon. Sure, the kids had probably seen walkers before, and probably seen them being killed, but why let them watch it if it could be avoided?

Sighing, I continued my journey down the field. The spikes and makeshift gates that were in place seemed to be enough to hold off the walkers from just in front of the main gate.

I propped up the ladder and kicked it into place so it was wedged in, the top of it jammed under the wire on the gate. After a little test, it didn't seem to move, which was surprising, but I didn't question it. The two arms at the top stuck through the holes in the fence which at least meant that it was propped up on something.

I put some screws and pilot holes into a pouch on my holster, shoved a drill under the belt strap and started my climb to the top of the fence. The ladder moved a little the further up I got, but it seemed stable enough for me to get the work done that I needed.

Pulling out the drill, I held the pulley wheel against the thickest pole at the top of the fence and positioned it against the fence before I drilled my holes through the ones that already existed in the metal square stand of the wheel.

When the first one was done, I heard footsteps approaching from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Rick standing in the small square below, just in front of the broken guard tower. He had his hands up over his eyes as he stared up at me.

"You were meant to wait for help with that!" Rick almost yelled, his voice raised just so it would be able to reach me.

"I got it," I called back, drilling another hole where the screw was supposed to go for the pulley.

When I did that, I pushed in all of the screw plugs, so it didn't slip out of the hollow metal pole, the screws would hold with these in place. I reached back to the small pouch for the screws and held the pulley wheel in place so I could put the screw through it. Once the first one was completely tight, the pulley stayed in place without me needing to hold it anymore.

As I moved my foot up a step, I felt the ladder start moving downwards. It took me a second to realise that it was slipping out from under me, and one of my hands shot up to grab the pole above my head before it was too late.

The ladder clattered to the ground and my body slammed against the fence next to me. Just as I tried to find some kind of footing, was when I truly realised that I was dangling from the top of the fence with one hand.

My heart pounded in my head, and I could feel the skin on my hand pinching against the metal fence. I tried to look back, putting more strain on my wrist as I looked around. I couldn't see whether Rick had noticed my trouble, so I called out for him anyway, desperately needing his help.

"RICK!"

Even if the drop wouldn't kill me—which was very unlikely at this low of a height—I would get extremely injured depending on how I landed. I could break my ankles, or re-crack my chest in the place where I'd been shot. My chest had been healed, but it would still be weaker at this point, so a fall like this would still break it more.

I couldn't let myself fall.

I pulled myself up a little and reached upwards with my other hand. If I could get both hands up, I'd be able to pull my body up further and get my elbows over the fence, giving myself much more leverage. After what felt like an eternity, my other hand eventually gripped the pipe above me.

There was the familiar crunching of shoes against the ground behind me, and I heard Rick call out again. "Hold on, I got you!"

"What else am I meant to do?!"

The sound of the metal moving made me look down, and I could see the ladder being lifted off the ground. I had to pull my head back up and look out at the trees ahead of me, breathing heavily in and out as I focused on holding onto the fence.

"You coming down?!"

"Just hold it a second?!" I called again. "I just need to get this done and put the rope though! Then I'm done!"

"Okay, just . . . be careful!"

"No kidding," I whispered to myself.

I lifted the wheel back up that'd spun down when I fell, and put in the last three screws as tight as I could. It would have to be secure because pulling on a rope with a heavy door attached would be hard on the pulley. When that was done, I untangled the rope from around my belt, put one end through the wheel and lowered it down to the ground so both ends easily went down to the floor with no issues.

As soon as that was done, I climbed down and released a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in. Rick let go of the ladder and gave me an I told you so look, which gave me the urge to roll my eyes, but I stopped myself.

"You good?" He asked after a moment.

"I'm fine." Despite a potentially near-death experience.

I took a second to breathe while Rick looked at the rope that hung down from the top of the fence. He then turned his gaze to the gate. "So is that it?"

"Well, kind of. I just need to connect it to the gates and see how hard they are to open and close with just a rope," I explained.

"Do we need anyone to kill the walkers?"

"Maybe," I didn't want to bother anyone else at first, but with the incident at the gate, I was sceptical about trying to tie ropes to a door with walkers coming at me. "The spikes should do most of the work."

Rick was quiet for a moment.

"Let's do it now," he said. "Set it up and I'll kill the walkers that the spikes don't trap. Get it out of the way so we can start working on planning a run. Glenn found somewhere we can hit up."

"You got it."

He grabbed the first gate, and pulled it open, waiting as he watched the first two walkers who noticed us walk towards the spikes and get impaled. He pulled out a knife and walked over to the first one, taking it out over the top of the spikes.

"It works," he said.

"I made sure it did."

"I know you did."

I grabbed the rope through the fence and dragged it across to the new red gates. The walkers were still coming, but Rick had resorted to shooting them the closer I got to the spikes. I looked back over my shoulder to him and nodded a thanks.

"This should be quick," I said, tying the rope. "If it works."

"It's gonna work."

I hope so.

When that was done, I did the same on the other gate and connected the ropes back behind the fence. Rick closed the second gate behind us and watched me work for a second. When all the ropes were tied together, finally connected in a way that should pull the gates open, I stood up.

"This should be it," I said.

"I'll test it," Rick walked over to the four ropes that hung down from the fence. "What do I do, pull these ones?"

"Yeah, those front ones," I nodded.

I could hear Rick struggling as he started to use his full body weight to pull the ropes down, showing that the weight of the gate was really having an effect on the ropes. I kept my eyes on it when he finally pulled it down enough that both gates started to swing outward, clearing a path to the road.

Rick laughed and stopped pulling when the gate was open. "Oh my god."

"It works," I smiled.

"How do we close it?"

"The back ones," I said.

He nodded, and pulled it down again, which pulled the gates inwards, and they slammed together, closing in the middle. He was beaming as he turned to face me, walking over to stand at my side and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"That's amazing," Rick smiled. "Good job."

"That's just the start for this place," I promised.

Okay, don't ask me how that pulley system works on the front gate because I tried, I tried people and that thing makes no sense. I drew out a new way for the gate to work so that it would work the way it is shown in the show but other than that, I am stumped.

Anyway, I've been writing non-stop before uni starts and I end up slowing down again so I've written about six chapters in the past week and a half so if these seem rushed at all, that could be the reason.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think :)