The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

sixtyone.

"Yeah, I'd put them up there, too."

My eyes flick to the room we find ourselves in, chewing on my lip, not finding anything that'll help us get to the next level. I run a hand through my hair, growing tired and frustrated.

The first trimester of pregnancy is exhausting. I find myself getting stretched thin far too easily; I believe I'm starting to push myself to the limits. But I need to keep going so our child doesn't have to grow up under this man's thumb.

"Stairs." Daryl points to the door, bringing me out of my inner monologue as he begins to pound on the door with his foot over and over. Ah, yes, the logical approach. I was considering a sneakier approach, but this works, too. The sounds of the banging ricochet off the walls around us.

"This is too easy." I offer my thoughts, "something isn't right." Rick faces me with surprise dancing on his face. "What? I've been here the whole time." I shake my head, assisting my husband with beating the door in.

We take the second floor, fanning out, still not finding a god damn thing. I'm growing restless and irritated. After we regroup for the second time, we decide to take the third and final floor. Rick and Daryl grab my arms, pulling me up to ground. Did I mention the stairs were a fucking ladder? I straighten up, rubbing my hands along my pants.

"Last floor." Rick announces, "the guns have gotta be up here."

"He said they'd be here." Irritation dances into the archers gruff tone.

"Everything else he passed you is checking out."

"That guy's a piece of shit."

"Daryl's right. He's a coward. What if someone discovered that he was aiding and abetting their enemy?" I growl in frustration. I stalk around, eyes searching the halls around us. "He'd switch sides so god damn fast."

"Those guns get to the Sanctuary; they could cut through those walkers and free up an exit." Rick shakes his head. "We'll go faster if we split up. Find the M2s, you find 'em, we use them, hit the courtyard right then and there."

"End this quick." Daryl takes off without another word.

I decide to cover Rick's back instead of waltzing off on my own as the bad feeling returns, causing little goosebumps to break out along my fair skin. We continue to come up empty. I rub my face, as I swallow hard, forcing the anxiety down. After a few long quiet minutes while I'm surveying the room around us, the sound of a scuffle reaches my ears. I raise my gun, spinning on my heels. I watch as Rick and the stranger struggle. I take a moment to wait for an opening while I put my gun in the small of my back, tripping the assailant as he comes a little too close to my person. I reach down, dragging him up by his shirt. I wrap my arms around his neck, locking tight in a head lock. Rick nods at me before bending down, facing the stranger, "the M2's. Where are they?"

"No guns." He spits.

I smirk, shaking my head. "You're no help. Guess you're better off dead, huh?" I let the venom drip from my voice.

"Wait!" I release my grip enough to snap his neck, letting his body fall to my feet with a thud. I step over his corpse, continuing on. The sounds of a knife cutting into bone reach my ears. Rick must've made sure he didn't come back to be a problem for our escape.

In the next room, we stumble across a baby no older than a few months. My blue eyes find the tiny human in question, starting to doubt that coming in here with guns blazing was a good idea. The room is decked out like a nursery. Whoever she is, she's surely loved. My hand meets my stomach, closing my eyes. This isn't a world that's nice to the defenseless. But I promise I'll make sure my own child will not have to face this type of bullshit. Rick hangs his head while I pull out my radio. "Hey guys, we got a baby. Come in and have Tori come get her to safety, take her back to Alex. Third floor." I continue to give directions to the room. Rick's attention finds me, appreciating and agreeing with my own call on this situation.