I looted the town, despite the bleeding from my collar bone, taking the packs the assholes brought with them and anything from buildings that didn't have Xs carved into the doors. But I didn't stick around too long after that—they would come looking for their scouts soon.

Whoever the hell they were.

When I sat in my car, turned the key to get it started, it rumbled, chugged, but didn't turn on. My head fell forward onto the steering wheel, and I groaned. "Just my fucking luck."

Sweat trickled down around the leather surface as I took a long breath. If I believed in God, I'd say that he was fucking with me today. But the problem was me this time, I had no idea what the car's problem could even be anymore. It was just something else that would eat into my time; we needed it working to get more run groups out looking for food. I found barely anything.

I sat up and tried again, twisting the key in the ignition where it gasped for life again before finally roaring out. Good, now that it was started it should get me back to Alexandria. The sooner the better.

It was a quick drive. Aaron was on the lookout by the gate when I returned, a hand coming up to block out the sun when he saw and recognised the car. I rolled to a stop and waited. When I saw a shadow behind the gate to open it, I got ready to pull in.

Lifting the clutch, I went to roll the car closer to the gate when it jerked forward and stalled. I slammed my fist into the dashboard, stamping a few times before trying to start the car again when the engine sputtered but refused to cooperate.

"Fuck's sake!" I threw the door open and stood up, kicking the old metal body. "Stupid fucking car!"

The gate rolled open to reveal my tantrum to Aaron, who just held his gun loosely in his arms, and his eyes didn't leave me as I pulled the seatbelt out of the car and slammed the door on it, creating a harness to move the car through the gate myself. I placed my hand on the open window and pushed forward.

"Are you okay?"

I just ignored him, which was when he decided to rush to the other side of the car and help me roll it inside the gate, and someone closed it behind us. I glanced over my shoulder to see Heath, and I greeted him with a quick, "Alright?"

He just stared back with a concerned expression, unsurprising.

Aaron was the one to try questioning me again, "What the hell happened out there?"

"I killed them, isn't it obvious," I said, freeing myself of the makeshift harness and holding the seatbelt in my hand. "If you do this you can use your whole body to move the car, makes it easier."

"Ace, killed who?"

Again, I ignored the question and walked to the back of the car, opening the boot for them. "You should take this stuff to storage."

As I went to pull out one of the asshole's backpacks, Aaron barely managed to catch the handle as I misjudged the weight of everything I shoved inside and got dragged downward. "I will, but we should get you to the infirmary first."

"I don't— I'm fine for now," I told him. "I just need to sit down for a second."

"Okay," Aaron nodded, "at the infirmary."

I waved him off as I tried to remember what I needed to do, the things I'd planned for when I got back. When I remembered, I reached for a bag again, "Once we get everything from these we need to burn them, oh, and, uh . . . anything that looks like it can be recognised— belonged to someone . . ." I trailed off. "Actually, just leave that for me to do in a little while. Just take it to storage."

"We will," Aaron took the bag from my hand as I spoke, pushing me a step back and closing the boot. I could tell he wanted to continue to convince me to go to the infirmary, but he realised it'd be useless. Instead, he turned to Heath and gave him quiet instructions, "Take the car up to the others and then find Rick or someone. Tell them I'm taking Ace to the infirmary."

"Got it," Heath nodded, going to the side of the car and using the seatbelt harness in the way I'd done before, and he exclaimed. "Jesus, that's so much easier!"

Aaron watched him leave, shaking his head before turning back to me. "Alright, come with me."

"I'm fine, I just . . ." I rubbed my face with both hands, mixing my blood with theirs. I had forgotten what I wanted to say. "God, I'm tired."

This was pathetic. I was pathetic.

I had been able to take out ten people with such ease, winning an encounter where I had been at a complete disadvantage and flipping the situation on its head so that only I lived. Now I could barely speak, barely stand—

"That's probably the blood loss," Aaron cut off my train of thought.

For the first time since it happened, I looked down at the gash on my collarbone which pointed down from my neck towards my arm. Blood had dyed the top left quarter of my shirt red, seeping downwards as it became too saturated to hold anymore.

As I stared, I found my blinks getting heavier and my mind disposed of any thoughts. The second my vision began fading, I reached out to place my hand back against the horizontal support of the fence when I missed and almost went toppling over. Aaron caught my arm, balancing with a hand on the opposite shoulder.

"Alright, let's get you sat down."

I let him guide me to the wall just inside the gate, and he helped me to sit in the shade, leaning me back against the cool metal. Groaning in relief, I leaned my head back and pressed my arm against the part of the fence to cool myself down, closing my eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"Bard."

"Bad?" Aaron frowned.

"Don't fucking start," I opened my eyes to look at him.

"Sorry, I didn't know what it meant."

"It means sick, ill," I leaned my head back. "It's slang."

"I can get you some water," he said. "So you feel like you're going to throw up?"

I rubbed my face, "I wanted to throw up when you said the word water."

"Do you still feel faint?" He asked.

"Not really." Anymore.

"Okay," he nodded. "We'll try and move you in a few minutes."

He took a seat on the ground beside me, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him just staring at me, the blood that coated my face. He wanted to ask, to push more about what happened on the road because I was just supposed to be driving the car around and climbing a rock face.

After a moment or two, he just looked ahead, a hand on my shoulder, before he pulled back just to sit beside me. Part of me wondered if Aaron trusted me enough to know that these kills were necessary, despite not knowing the situation.

"There's Rick," Ace followed his gaze to Rick who was just now rounding the corner of the road that looped past the lake. Aaron stood up, waving a subtle hand to her as he began to walk to meet him halfway, "Don't try to move."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

As Aaron reached Rick, they were too far away for me to hear the first half of their conversation. Their words made it to me more frequently as they walked over, with Rick explaining why he had come here rather than waiting at the infirmary.

"I sent Heath to find Denise, and then the others to let them know . . ." I looked up at Rick as he trailed off, noticing his stare settled on me. I didn't know if he wanted me to say anything or explain, but I could barely even make out what they were saying, let alone answer, "When you weren't at the infirmary, I came over."

"I was going to bring her over, but it looked like she was going to faint—like back when you guys were on the road," Aaron said, turning to face me fully. "I didn't want to drop her in the sun halfway there or something."

Rick nodded in agreement, reassuring him that he did the right thing. "Do you know what happened?"

He shook his head, unsure. "She killed people."

"Who?"

"Don't know," Aaron shrugged. "She said something about burning the packs in the car."

I would have cut in to explain, but as I looked up, the bright light reflected from the car windows and white houses across the lake which made me squeeze my eyes closed. I felt sick, but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up.

"We'll get her over to the infirmary," Rick said. "Denise should be setting up by now."

As he came closer, I looked up and greeted him first, "Hey."

"Hey," he replied, kneeling beside me. "Move your hand."

I did as I was told, and his palm came to cover the gash in my collarbone. When he applied pressure to the area, I winced, a sharp hiss shooting out between my clenched teeth. "Fuck."

"Sorry," Rick apologised, before moving the closest arm behind my back, hooking under my own around the other side. "You ready? Three, two, one."

On the last count, he stood up and lifted me alongside him, his hand under my arm keeping me balanced as he kept applying pressure to the wound. Aaron walked close to us but did not step in yet as Rick all but carried me down the road towards the infirmary.

"It's not that bad, it's just been bleeding for a long time."

"With the way you are right now, we don't want it bleeding anymore," Rick said simply.

I chose not to argue as they helped me to the infirmary, but I was pretty steady on my feet. I probably would have been able to make it before Aaron got worried that I was going to faint, so all this extra help was a little unnecessary.

Denise was pacing back and forth between cabinets and drawers in the infirmary. "I didn't know what I'd need, so I pulled everything out. Sit her down on the counter."

Rick nodded and kicked over a footstool for me to use to sit on the counter. We waited a few more minutes listening to Denise's murmuring as she recited what I could only imagine as flashcard information for medical school.

"Right," she clapped her hands together when she was ready, turning around to face me. "This would be easier if I knew what happened. Just so I know what to check for."

I took a breath and nodded. "I got knocked out."

"For how long?" She asked before I could continue.

"It wasn't something that came up," I shrugged. "A few minutes? They were only really checking my bag when I was coming around."

"Okay . . ." Denise seemed a little concerned but didn't try to push for any more information. "Anything else?"

"Just the cut," I shrugged. "My arm hurts a little but it's not too bad, considering."

"Right," she said. "I should check for a concussion."

"I drove back, I don't think I'm concussed."

"You felt sick and almost fainted," Aaron said.

I shot him a look. "I've been bleeding for like an hour and a half, give me a break."

"What?!" Rick's voice went tight. "Ace, why didn't you—"

"Still had to check the town," I tried to brush it off simply.

"No, Ace. You didn't—"

Denise cut Rick off. "I think this should wait until I'm done here . . . and I'll check for a concussion, just in case."

Rick just breathed out a huff through his nose, but nodded and took a step away. She came over with a torch to be able to check my pupils; Hershel did that before, the day I was attacked in the Winter and the man hit my face on the steering wheel.

"I had to retrace my steps, clear up any tracks," I clarified, as Denise was looking at my eyes. When she pulled back, the lights still moved around in my vision, flashing pink and green. I wiped the tears from my eyes and finally turned to Rick.

"You're not explaining this properly," he told me.

"Just let me finish up here and she can, I'll give you the privacy to do so," Denise repeated. "I don't think you have a concussion. I just have to stitch up that gash."

She had brought over a bowl of water and a rag as she spoke, and returned to the table for the rest of the supplies she'd need to stitch me up. She took the rag to wipe the blood from my skin to see how big the wound was, clearing away the drying blood under my shirt.

When Denise was finished clearing away the blood, and she could see the gash, she threaded the needle and gave a small count down before pressing it through the skin. The feeling of pulling the thread through my skin was almost enough to make me throw up again.

"Fuck," I winced.

"Sorry. Try to hold still," Denise said, as she went to do the second one. "This is going to scar."

Story of my life.

"Almost done. Just a few more," She promised.

The door to the infirmary burst open, making us all jump, including Denise. It worried me at first but she didn't pull or jerk the thread, and seemed to recover from the interruption quickly, but not without glaring and shaking her head at Glenn and Daryl for it.

"Jesus," Glenn breathed, staring for a long moment as if taking me in. "We just heard. Are you okay?"

I couldn't answer right away, focusing on my breathing and being still for the last stitches. It gave me some time to think, and come up with an answer that wouldn't make me start crying. I saw Daryl's darkened expression as he got closer, seeing the blood and my state.

"The hell happened out there?"

"Just let me finish this first. Then she can explain," Denise said before I could answer, her tone annoyed and somewhat scolding the men.

I could feel all their eyes in the room, staring at me, waiting, expecting. The silence pressed in on me, making my skin crawl. They wanted to know what happened, needed to know, but I struggled with the words, feeling them get caught in my throat. I was grateful for Denise's stalling.

"There. Just need to cover it," Denise finished, cutting the thread. She started taping gauze around the wound. "She needs clean clothes, and space to breathe."

Rick ignored her, his eyes boring into me as he waited for an explanation.

"I saw this town," I forced out the start, shaking my head, there was no more prolonging the story. "From the rock face, so I went to check it for supplies . . . food."

My fingers moved, tracing the zip tie marks around my wrists unconsciously. Remembering his voice, his hands on my chin, the way he looked at me . . .

"When I got there, someone knocked me out, tied me up next to a car. They said something about taking me back to their group, but one of the guys was— I didn't like it."

"Ya don't gotta say it," Daryl cut in roughly, understanding in his voice.

I nodded, swallowing the nausea as I thought of how to continue.

"Ace . . ." Glenn came over, arm around my shoulder. "You shouldn't have gone out there on your own. You almost . . . we could have lost you. This shouldn't have happened."

"I know, alright? I know."

"I said so, didn't I?" Daryl's tone became a bit sharper, the understanding melting away as he began to get riled up, thinking over Glenn's words and my story. "No one leaves this place alone with those fuckers we saw out there."

"Took someone hunting with you this morning did you?" I raised a brow.

Rick suppressed a laugh. "She's got you there."

"Ya shoulda had someone with ya," he pointed at me.

"Can I finish?" I snapped.

Rick nodded, his hand on his belt, his face softening, "Yeah, please . . . course you can."

"I got free when the guy was . . . and I killed him. The rest started shooting at me and I got away, taking out some of the ones who chased me with . . . a bomb, in one case." I swallowed, remembering his screams. "I was going to come back, but when they searched my bag they saw the map, the X on it. They wanted to come check this place out, so I went after the rest of them. Only one of them devolved into a fight."

"How many?" Glenn asked quietly, his hand rubbing up and down on my back.

"Ten."

My answer fell heavy in the room.

Aaron shifted uncomfortably. "You just . . . hunted them down?"

"They were going to go back to their group, bring reinforcements here," I stressed. "I didn't think after everything that we needed hostile knobheads knocking at our gates."

"I know, I just . . ." he trailed off. "Just can't help but think . . ."

That it was over the top. My hands came up to cover my face, and I squeezed my eyes closed. I couldn't look them in the eyes as I considered the words left unsaid, trying to ignore the memories that started to flash behind my eyes.

"You did what you had to do," Rick assured me. "To protect us, to protect yourself."

"Sorry," Aaron said quickly. "I trust you, it's just . . . it's a little hard to imagine, you know? But it's good, knowing that we can't get attacked like when the Wolves found my pack. Thank you." He paused for a second before asking, "What did you mean about burning the packs? Surely it'd be better to keep them, give them to our people."

"If someone recognises them or the stuff then they'll know we— I killed them," I said. "I didn't want to take the chance."

"No," Rick agreed. "We'll get the supplies we can use and burn them. You're right."

"Ya think they could have been the same people that attacked us?" Daryl wondered aloud, the thought completely out of nowhere.

"I could hear them speaking most of the time, nobody mentioned a Negan." Whoever the hell that was.

From what I heard, the people who stopped Daryl and the others made it out to be like a show—or it would have been a show had Negan been there at the same time. They were also chasing the people who stole Daryl's crossbow. I didn't understand it.

It sounded like they just raided groups for their things under the name of Negan. Whether that was their boss or a cultist leader they made up was beyond me. Either way, the people who ran into me didn't mention the name. They did say something about bringing more people to the location marked on my map, but they didn't have the same psychotic tendencies Daryl described.

They had completely different ones.

"So, it's not the same group," Rick said.

"Is that good or bad?" I wondered aloud.

They only shrugged silently.

Rick sent me home to get some rest while he spoke to the others about the defences, having more groups in the area meant that they had to be more cautious about being attacked if they were ever found. It was lucky Alexandria was too new to be on any maps—I considered going back to the nearby roads and ripping up the signs of new houses in the area, but that was a job for another day.

I assumed he'd be quick, planning with Daryl and Michonne because it was getting too late to change anything that day.

As I was lying on the sofa, a hand over my eyes to try and tamp down the jittery energy inside, there was a knock on the front door. I stood up and walked over, awkwardly rolling my shoulder with the gauze sticking out from under her black tank top.

Isaac was on the other side, looking at her knowingly.

His voice was soft as he spoke. "Hey."

I fought the urge to jerk forward and wrap my arms around him, worried about agitating the injury and start crying again, as I had done for a few moments when I got the chance to change clothes in my bedroom.

Lucky for me, he was the one to pull me into his chest, stepping me backwards so he could come inside and close the door behind him. He rubbed the top of my shoulders, kissing my head for a long time as we stood in silence.

"Rick told me what happened," Isaac whispered into my hair. "Thought I'd come and keep you company."

I nodded, already assuming something like that had happened when he showed up, either that or Heath had told him when he was sent away earlier. Then again, it was probably more likely Rick since Isaac didn't show up at the infirmary.

"Yeah," I breathed.

"Why don't we lay in your room for a while?" He asked when I finally pulled away from him. "We can try taking a nap or something, you look like you need it."

I was already shaking my head as he made the suggestion, the idea making me feel almost sick as I thought about just laying there with my thoughts as I had just been doing for the past twenty minutes. I realised it wouldn't just be my thoughts, but Isaac's company too, but I felt too jumpy to get to sleep.

"I can't, I'm . . . I don't know." I felt like a spring ready to burst free. "No, I can't."

"Then we can do something, put on some music?" Isaac suggested again, going to sit on the sofa where I had been lying before. "I still have Aaron's walkman."

"No," I denied again.

"Come on," he held his arms out to me, waving me to go and sit on the sofa with him.

I would have complied until I heard chattering from outside, coming from next door on the porch. Martinez, Eugene and Abraham were walking over to where talking, heading down towards the new part of Alexandria that we had expanded into.

"Where's everyone going?" I asked.

"I— I don't—" Isaac looked immediately guilty, and he rubbed the back of his neck. I stared at him for a second, slowly beginning to realise what happened.

"Is that about me?" I cut him off when I realised he wouldn't finish his sentence.

More silence, more guilt. He walked over to the window and watched them walk away as if he didn't already know where they were going. I stared at him, expecting the truth to come out, my look doing enough to remind him that he wanted us to be completely honest with each other.

"They're going to the church." He thought that explanation was enough until he saw my movement to the door and hurried after me. "Rick didn't see the point in dragging you over, especially since all he wants to do is tell everyone there might be another group in the area to watch out for."

The church was originally outside the wall before we made the expansion, and it was one of the buildings Glenn hid inside when he made it back during the time the herd surrounded us. Since it became the biggest building we had, Rick decided to start using it for meetings to get everyone's opinion before he made decisions.

"We don't have to go," Isaac added quickly. "He's just going to tell them what happened to you and that there are more groups in the area that we have to look out for. Daryl and others have been sneaking out alone and he's just going to say that they shouldn't."

"Why wasn't I told about this?" I asked.

"I don't know, maybe he doesn't want to upset you anymore after today," Isaac said.

I clenched my teeth, waiting for the group of men to disappear down the street before going to grab my shoes.

"Ace, come on," he said.

"Come on, what?"

"We don't have to be there, I think it's best if we're not," he said.

"They're going to be talking about what happened to me." And I wanted to know what they thought, I added silently. Aaron had already made me think that killing them the way I did was too far, that maybe I could have done something different. I wanted to know what everyone else thought.

I walked with Isaac following me to the church, trying to convince me that we didn't have to go to the meeting and listen to what they had to say. He kept saying how there had to be a reason Rick didn't need me there, so maybe we shouldn't go.

He huffed as we got near the building, and I looked to make sure no one else was going inside. "Aren't we going in?"

I shook my head. "I wasn't invited."

Isaac muttered something as we walked over to the side door of the church which was left open to allow a breeze inside the building. I sat down on the ground outside, trying to make out some of the words amongst the chatter.

"What the hell happened out there?" Abraham's voice silenced the chatter of the crowd in the pews. "Been hearin' bits and pieces."

"Ace killed people, right?" Sasha asked.

"Sasha . . ." Maggie seemed to scold her from a seat closer to the door.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"How is she?" Carl asked instead.

I looked at Isaac in disbelief, but he kept his eyes up, leaning his head back as he tried to listen.

"She's fine." Rick's voice came from my right, where he stood at the front of the church. "Hurt a little, but nothing serious."

"Then what the hell happened?" Martinez repeated Abraham's question. "Kid was supposed to be climbing a rock face, where the hell did she get a chance to kill a whole fucking group of people?"

"She saw a town from the top of the cliff, decided to give it a look, see if there was any food there," Rick said. "While she was there she got knocked out, woke up to these people going through her things, talking about taking her somewhere. I marked down where we were on her map, so she could get home. And they saw it."

The silence stretched out after Rick took a pause, and he waited for questions but none came. I lifted myself to peek through the stained glass window, but it didn't help find out who else was there, so I sat back down.

"Ace got free and took them out, one by one to stop them from telling their people, bringing them here."

"We don't have to be here," Isaac repeated in a whisper.

I waved him off dismissively.

"I called you all here today to warn you. We're short on food, Maggie's getting the farms up and running but they won't be instant. We only just got the expansion done. If anyone else goes out there on a run or hunting or checking the snares, you take someone with you. We don't know how many groups are out there, but none of them seem particularly friendly."

"And we're sure these aren't part of the same group that attacked us?" Sasha asked.

"Ace said these acted more like a scout, that they were just scavenging. They didn't want to take her stuff, not in the same way at least."

"Not the same M.O.," Abraham decided.

"Yeah," Rick agreed.

"And she had to kill them?" Morgan asked.

"Ten people that kidnapped a fucking kid." Rosita sounded far too angry, she couldn't have cared about what happened to me that much. "Yes, she had to fucking kill them."

"Apparently, one of the guys was a creep," Daryl added.

"Then the discussion is over," Rosita asserted, and I could see her shoot a look over her shoulder at Morgan. "Those people willingly siding with and fighting on the side of some pervert? Come, the fuck, on."

I eyed Isaac to see if he knew why she was so angry with Morgan, but he didn't seem to have an answer. He looked just as confused by the interaction as I was like they had some argument that nobody else knew about.

"I don't think she had much of a choice," Carol agreed, like she was

"She didn't," Rick said. "If the man was going to hurt her, I wouldn't have wanted her to sit there and take it. And they wouldn't have let her live after what she did."

Liam maybe . . .

They didn't know about that, how Liam had called Jon a creep himself despite being from the same group.

"You said you marked her map, right?" Francine asked. "What if their people followed them back here like the Wolves did with Aaron?"

I covered my eyes with my hands, leaning into my legs.

"How can you be sure? You said they saw the map, that they had a bigger group, so if they told them we could have more people down on us—"

"They're fucking dead, Francine!" I snapped, shooting to my feet and charging through the door. "At this point, I'd killed three or four of them and I was going to leave when I heard them say they knew where I was going because they saw the map, so I hunted them down and killed them." My chest was heaving as I stared back at the now-silent woman. "Any questions? No? Shut the fuck up then."

I shouldn't have come.

But then again, I don't think anybody else should have either.

My eyes turned to Rick. "A fucking meeting, really?"

"Ace," Michonne stood. "It's best everyone knows the threats out there."

"We already knew there were threats out there before I did this," I reminded everyone. "The people that held up Abraham, Daryl and Sasha on the road. Hell, the people who stole Daryl's bike. And we don't know if we killed all of the Wolves. Me leaving on my own was my fault."

"Nothing changes because of this," I told him. "We already have the defences in place for all of the above. We can't work out anything from where they attacked me because I don't know where they came from. And we certainly didn't need a meeting for this. I dealt with it."

"I know you did," Rick answered reasonably like I hadn't been yelling for no reason.

I didn't have to come, I realised.

"Then let's cut to the chase," Martinez looked my way. "It was you or them?"

I paused, before shaking my head.

"There was this one guy, I maybe didn't have to . . . he didn't . . ." I trailed off because I didn't know where to go with it. "One of them told the man to stop, he was the one I could have— I don't think—" I took a shaky breath. "He asked me to let him live."

"Doesn't matter," Rosita said. "He was in the same group as a known perv."

"Yeah, I'd be sittin' on cotton if I were you kid. Don't have to let someone live because they helped you out one time," Abraham added.

"Let's not pull at that thread," Martinez almost winced.

"It was you or them," Rosita said, standing up. "We good here?"

Rick was quiet for a moment, before giving a nod of finality. "Yeah, we're done."

Still seething at the fact they they had to have a meeting about this and I couldn't keep myself away when I found out about it, I took a step back out of the church where Isaac was awkwardly standing behind me and turned to him.

"I know what I want to do," I told Isaac as he followed me away from the church.

Isaac followed me back to the cars at the front of the community, helping me carry the bags I stole from the group I killed back to my house. We walked around until we were out the back, and I began searching for them while Isaac went for firewood.

I went through the bags, canvas green and brown bags that would have looked vintage and war-time before, now just seemed normal to me. Anything inside that wasn't supplied, engraved holsters and pictures I threw onto the fire.

Inside one of the bags was a patch that looked like it had been ripped from a pilot's jacket—Liam's jacket. I remembered the faded shape, darker than the rest of the green that hadn't been caught in the light. And I hesitated.

I went back and forth on Liam, what he did and said, whether I should have killed him. He agreed that Jon was a pedo, he called him a creep himself. He acted like Jon was just someone he got put with, like that person in the group project who dragged everyone else down. He understood why I attacked. But he was still the reason they were searching for me, he was the one who said I couldn't live after what I'd done. He was the reason it became about me and them . . . and I chose them.

Behind us, our people had gathered, standing in the back garden or watching the fire from the porches.