A lone figure leaped from the burning inferno of the watchtower. The silence stretched as Maggie Rhee and her companions watched the figure plummet toward the ground. It was a long way down.
The tower was one of two automatic radio-relay stations the Saviors ran to maintain their communication network. Taking it down wouldn't cut the Saviors off completely, but it would limit their long range capabilities to just a few channels, making eavesdropping significantly easier. Maggie knew this was just one small step in their larger plan, but every disruption counted.
Although the watchtower was remote, located far from the nearest outpost, the smoke would be seen far and wide. Sooner or later, someone would come looking. Maggie didn't plan to stick around for long, even if the sight of the flames consuming the tower filled her with grim satisfaction.
"Electric?" Maggie suggested, speaking through the bandana tied around her face. Pregnancy didn't pair well with smoke inhalation.
"Grease buildup," said the man beside her, stroking his white beard thoughtfully. "I warned them about the state of that kitchen."
"Happens all the time." Sasha nodded in agreement, the tall flames reflecting in her eyes. "I was a firefighter before," she offered as an aside.
Maggie turned to the man. "People heard you?"
He smiled. "I made sure of it."
"Congratulations, Frank," Maggie said, inclining her head to the former Savior. "You're a free man at last."
"What about this one?" Sasha asked, indicating the other watchtower occupant, the one Kal was keeping immobile with a spear to the neck.
They'd grabbed the Savior just before the attack when he'd come down to find out why the tower's generator had stopped working. He was barely out of his teens, with acne-blotchy skin and round spectacles that hung crooked at the tip of his nose. Maggie's impending motherhood might've given her pause if she hadn't already heard all about this young man.
"Fucking traitor," the young man spat, glaring at his former companion with wild, bloodshot eyes. "I should've known, Frank! You backstabbing pussy! You cocksucker! Negan will burn you for this! TRAITOR!"
Kal tightened his grip on the spear, pressing it more firmly against the Savior's neck. Maggie stepped forward, her eyes cold. "You've got a big mouth on you, Jeremy," she said with a raised eyebrow. "That's right, I know who you are. Frank told me everything." She leaned forward, whispering, "And I know what you did."
"You–" Jeremy spluttered, boggling. "No, no, you're wrong. I was only–" he inhaled sharply. "IT WAS HIM! Frank, he–"
The old man calmly dropped a Polaroid photograph on the ground where Jeremy was kneeling. In it, the young man could be seen smiling broadly, his arm slung around a crucified walker – the animated corpse of a girl who couldn't have been older than twelve.
A wave of nausea washed over Maggie. She recognized the place – the twisted amusement park where the Saviors had made their gruesome display. She knew there were a dozen more strung-up bodies just out of frame. Her gaze darted back to the photo, the young man's smile a mockery of innocence.
"I took it from your bedside table," Frank told the young man, his weathered face etched with sorrow. "I'm sorry they turned you into this." To Maggie he said, "Do whatever you want with him, just make sure the body burns. This can't lead back to me."
"Where will you go?" Maggie wondered.
Frank offered a wry smile and picked up his duffel bag. "I was a Ranger for thirty-odd years; I'll manage. Better out here than back there, kneeling with the rest of them. Trust me, these old knees won't miss the strain."
Watching the old man leave, a part of Maggie wondered if she was doing the right thing by letting him go. Frank had been a valuable ally, but she knew he wasn't in it for the fight. All he'd ever wanted was a way out.
Jeremy lashed out suddenly, kicking Kal's foot and dislodging the spear from his neck. He lunged at Maggie, but before he could do anything, the handle of Kal's spear caught him across the face with a loud crack, spraying crimson mist into the air. He fell back onto his knees, gasping in pain.
Maggie didn't allow herself to flinch. "You'll die here today, Jeremy," she informed the young Savior, giving a moment to reflect on that statement. "Unless you know something that oughta change my mind?"
Jeremy's nose whistled when he let out a sharp, wheezing laugh. "You think I'm scared of you, bitch?"
A small nod and the Savior was screaming, clutching a hand that was suddenly two fingers short. It was an impressively clean cut; Kal had spent all morning sharpening his spear.
"You should be," Maggie said dryly.
The little voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded an awful lot like her late husband, told her she was better than this. She wasn't, but Glenn always had a higher opinion of her than she'd deserved. He had never figured out that all he was seeing was himself, reflected in her.
That was alright, because Maggie knew, in her heart of hearts, that if it had been her beneath the cold ground, if it had been her skull turned to pulp, Glenn would've stopped at nothing to punish the ones responsible. Gazing down at the barely-out-of-his-teens young man, Maggie's heart didn't so much as flutter.
In any case, it didn't take much for Jeremy's bravado to crumble like sand. Just a couple of fingers, in fact.
"W-what d'you wanna know?" he gasped.
"I heard someone's been keeping you Saviors busy lately." Maggie studied his sweaty face keenly. "Seems an awful lot of you have been turning up dead around these parts. What can you tell me about the ambush near the old windmill?"
A heavy bead of sweat rolled down Jeremy's brow. "I thought that was you?"
Maggie sighed, tapping the radio strapped to her waist. "And who am I?"
Jeremy swallowed thickly. "You're the Widow."
Next to her, Sasha snorted, a harsh, humorless sound. "Your reputation precedes you," she told Maggie.
"This guy doesn't know shit," Kal said with a huff.
Jeremy flinched when Kal raised the spear again. "Listen, okay, listen. You take Saviors in, right? That's what everybody says. You're the Code Orange lady. I can join you. I don't like working for the Saviors, I just follow orders. That's all, I just follow orders." He gasped, breaths quickening in his panic. "Ask Mack, he'll tell you, he's, ah, he's–" he trailed off, only just now realizing who the cindering body belonged to.
"I'm guessing that's Mack?" Sasha asked, indicating the body of the other Savior, the one who had jumped off the burning tower.
Jeremy exhaled harshly. "He was the radio guy. Listen, I… I just go where they tell me, alright? I don't ask questions. Please, I got a girlfriend, she's got no one else but me. We were gonna get married. Please."
Maggie's pistol found its way into her hand. "Don't worry," she snarled, "I hear Negan's got a thing for widows."
Suddenly, the lookout tower collapsed on itself in a roar of flames. Jeremy took advantage of the commotion and leaped to his feet in a desperate bid for freedom, bolting towards the treeline. He was never going to make it, not with Maggie's people surrounding him, their faces grim and weapons at the ready.
But the walkers got to him first. They came out of the woods, drawn by the noise and the flames, their eyes glowing red in the firelight. Jeremy screamed as the walkers descended on him in a chorus of tearing flesh and vile, ravenous chewing.
"Don't touch the dead," Maggie ordered. "This needs to look clean. We don't want them coming after Frank." They'd already prepared a body double – a dead walker with striking resemblance to the old man. Not that it mattered once they'd burned it to a crisp.
"Let's go home," Maggie told her people, a ragtag group of former Hilltop residents and a scattering of former Saviors.
Not even in her wildest dreams did Maggie ever imagine teaming up with Saviors, former or otherwise.
It had all started with Gregory's betrayal. The sniveling coward had ousted Maggie to the Saviors, calling her a "deranged widow with delusions of grandeur." Well, not Maggie, exactly. He'd told them her name was Marsha.
Why Marsha? God knew. Maybe he'd felt a twinge of guilt, throwing a pregnant woman under the bus. Maybe he'd truly forgotten her name. Jesus had argued that Gregory was simply covering his own backside, getting Maggie out of his hair while also keeping the Hilltop's deal with Alexandria –their promise to rid them of the Saviors – a secret.
Thankfully, Maggie and Sasha had escaped before the Saviors could even lay eyes on them. It was a precarious situation for a pregnant woman, but Maggie didn't dare turn back to Alexandria, or any other settlement for that matter. Not with the Saviors hot on "Marsha's" trail.
They found themselves on the run, joined by Jesus and a handful of disgruntled Hilltop residents. Always moving, camping out in the woods where fewer walkers and Saviors roamed.
And then they met Frank.
Maggie was going to kill him, of course. He was a Savior. She was going to, but his snow-white hair and kind eyes reminded her of her daddy, God rest his soul.
So they talked. And as it turned out, many Saviors weren't happy with the way things were going. Maggie learned that the Saviors' lifestyle included a fair bit of servitude and abuse, and that there were just as many workers as there were soldiers, with no hope of escape. And hope… hope was a dangerous thing to dangle in front of someone desperate enough.
It was a hard pill to swallow, taking those people in, but Maggie couldn't ignore the opportunity knocking at her doorstep – a chance to tear the Saviors apart from the inside out.
It took some work, but little by little, the Widow's influence grew. She stayed hidden, always moving, keeping tabs on the enemy and making a name for herself, even though it wasn't her own.
And then one day, Frank walked in with Dwight.
"They killed my wife," Dwight whispered, hollow and broken. Maggie almost broke his jaw then and there.
In the end, her pragmatic side won over. Having a Savior as high up the ranks as Dwight was a game changer. With his help, they turned more Saviors to their side, took out weapon caches, sowed chaos within Negan's ranks, and devised a plan to spring Daryl free.
All the while, back in Alexandria Rick played the part of a grieving father, keeping his community in tune with the Saviors' demands. Only a few people knew he kept in touch with Maggie; even fewer knew about Eugene's secret ammunition production. Everything was progressing according to plan.
But then the earthquake hit – the one that leveled a small town and left Maggie's ears ringing for days – and everything went sideways. Dwight turned up dead, flushing their plan of rescuing Daryl down the drain.
Things started looking better when a new group – an army, possibly – began taking the Saviors head-on, regretfully taking out some of Maggie's own spies in the process. Maggie's focus now turned to finding this mysterious army, whoever they were, knowing they were her best chance of finally taking the fight to Negan.
Unfortunately, finding those people was proving more difficult than she'd thought. So Maggie sent Jesus to speak to Rick – and find out if the kids' return was more than a rumor – but then Jesus never came back, making her worry he'd gotten caught in the crossfire somehow.
Nevertheless, the Saviors were occupied and exposed. Maggie knew the time to strike was near. They needed to regroup or risk losing everything.
The clock was ticking; after all, Maggie wasn't becoming any less pregnant.
They were making preparations in one of the temporary camps when Maggie's radio burst to life, the line filled with static. It stopped, just as abruptly, before the line opened again to simple white noise. The action was repeated three times, a secret message from one of Maggie's Saviors–turned–spies.
They had received the exact message a few hours ago when the Saviors had set out. The second transmission meant the Saviors had arrived at their destination. Maggie found it useful to time them.
"Three is for Alexandria," Tara pointed out, pulling a crate of apples from the back of a pickup truck. "It's been a while."
"Supply run, probably." Maggie reached for the second crate – potatoes! – when one of the former Saviors jumped in and took it instead, nudging her out of the way with a reproachful glare.
"Dude," Tara huffed, rolling her eyes, "you can't lift this, it's heavy."
Maggie followed her to the supply tent with a sheepish sigh. "I know, I know, I just saw those 'taters and my mind went – " she stopped to discreetly wipe the drool from the side of her mouth. "What's new at the Hilltop?"
"Zilch," Tara sighed, setting the crate down. "The doc wants you to come by for an ultrasound as soon as. We'll smuggle you in through the hatch door, like last time." She tossed an apple to Maggie, who caught it, grinning. "He's moonlighting as a veterinarian now; the goat is finally pregnant."
Maggie's eyes lit up. "Cheese!" she exclaimed, mid-chew.
Tara beamed. It was good to see her smiling again, Maggie decided. For weeks since she'd joined them her friend had been swinging from a pendulum of grief and fury. And who could blame her when she'd returned home to so much tragedy?
"By the way, I ran into douchecanoe again," Tara said, referring to Gregory. "He still thinks I'm one of the field workers. He asked me what I'm doing lollygagging. That's what he said – lollygagging." She shrugged off her backpack and began repacking it for the next venture out. "Of course, he invited me to talk about it in his study."
"What'd you say?"
"I respectfully declined."
Maggie snorted. "So you punched him?"
"I didn't punch him," Tara protested, sliding a bottle of water into the backpack. At Maggie's raised eyebrow, she amended, "I didn't punch him in the face."
Before Maggie could tease her further, Sasha stepped into the tent. "Listen to this," she said, holding her radio.
Eavesdropping on the Saviors was always a bit of a cat-and-mouse game. They used multiple frequencies that changed often, and if Maggie hadn't been poaching Saviors right from under Negan's nose, they wouldn't have been able to keep up. Of course, the radios couldn't be tuned in to all frequencies simultaneously, but Sasha had developed a channel-surfing habit lately.
"–don't think you understand how important this is." Gregory sounded exasperated. Whatever it was, it seemed like it'd been going on for a while.
"He's busy," the Savior on the other line replied curtly.
"Honestly, I don't know what's going on over there," Gregory huffed, "but this is simply unacceptable! I need to speak to Simon immediately. I have crucial information!"
"So?"
"So?! Are you–" Gregory gasped, spluttering. "I'm sorry, what's your name again?"
"Don."
"Don what? I want to make sure I have the right person when I report this."
"Keydick," replied the Savior.
"Well, Mr. Keydick, all I'm asking is that you do your job and put me through. I'm not asking for much, just a bit of competence. If you don't connect me to Simon, I'm afraid you'll be fully responsible for the resulting fallout."
"Is that a threat?" asked the Savior dryly.
"No! No, of course not," Gregory backpedaled immediately. "Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot here–"
This went on for a while. Maggie gave an exasperated sigh. "Does he actually have anything?"
"He refuses to say until they pass him through to Simon," Sasha replied. She looked at Tara. "Did you notice anything unusual at the Hilltop?"
Tara shook her head, sitting down next to the rickety table. Then she frowned. "Well, there was the new guy."
"What new guy?" Maggie asked, eyebrow raised.
"He came in with us. He wanted to know– he was–" Tara hesitated, blinking heavily. "Woah." She winced, touching her brow as if in pain.
"Are you okay?" Maggie said in concern, handing her a bottle of water. "Tara?"
"I'm fine," Tara said, taking the bottle. "Weird headache, that's all."
Sasha lifted the tent's canvas flap. "Andy, can you come over here?"
Andy had made the trip to the Hilltop with Tara. He was one of the residents who'd left with Maggie after Gregory's betrayal. Amazingly, Gregory had never even clued into that fact, which allowed Andy the freedom to slip in and out of the Hilltop without Gregory realizing anything was out of the ordinary.
"Yeah?" said Andy. He frowned at hearing Gregory's voice over the radio, still arguing with the Savior. "What's going on?"
"We're not sure," Maggie said, rubbing Tara's back for comfort. "Did anything unusual happen at the Hilltop?"
Andy's gaze darted between them. "Not really?" His expressive face turned to a frown. "Well, the goat's pregnant."
"What about the new guy?" Maggie asked, slightly exasperated.
Andy's frown deepened. "What new guy?"
"He walked in with us," said Tara, still rubbing her temple with a pained expression. "Or… he drove in?"
"Oh, yeah," said Andy, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. He seemed unconcerned. "Maybe."
"Did you two meet a ghost?" Sasha asked in a disbelieving tone.
Maggie's attention was pulled back to the radio, realizing that Gregory had finally gotten through to Simon. "Shh, listen."
"I assure you this isn't like last time," Gregory was saying, timid now that he was talking to the boss. "It's– it's one of those people you told me about. I couldn't believe it. This– this thug, he just waltzed in like he owns the place. Of course, from your excellent description, I recognized him immediately; tall feller, feminine hair, and boy, the attitude…! I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I won't abide by all this talk of insurgency and insubordination, you know I won't stand for that. That doesn't fly here at the Hilltop Colony, no sir. I had to inform you straight away!"
"He was really tall," Tara stated, albeit tentatively.
Maggie's mouth thinned. It sounded like one of the people they'd been looking for had made his way to the Hilltop. Unfortunately, he made a mistake, approaching Gregory. A mistake Maggie had made herself, once. She knew they needed to warn him, but Maggie couldn't risk showing her face near the Hilltop, not with the Saviors inbound.
"Tara, Andy, can you take another Hilltop run?" she asked. As far as Gregory was concerned, Andy had never left the colony, and Tara was a resident as well. No one else knew her well enough to say otherwise. "Tara, are you good to travel?"
Tara blinked. "Yeah, yeah. It's just a headache. I'm fine."
"We're not that far out, if you leave now you might make it before the Saviors do. If you can – warn this guy, whoever he is, but keep your head down. Use the emergency channel if you get into trouble." Maggie picked up Tara's backpack and handed it over. "I'm gonna take Route-55, go around."
Tara's eyes widened. "Route- you're going to Alexandria?"
Maggie nodded, placing her hand on top of Tara's. "I'm going to talk to Rick. Tara, you find out who these people are. It's time we worked together." She exhaled slowly. "It's time we all worked together."