I stood with Rick at the colossal rock quarry, occasionally casting glances back at the masses of walkers that growled for us. I'm not going to lie; it completely freaks me out. Only two massive semi-trucks block the quarry's entrance, separating us from them. I looked up at Rick and pursed my lips, ready but unsure.
Two weeks have passed since that night... two long and exhausting weeks. Carl and Selena have been cast out of Ron's little group because 'their parents killed Ron's dad,' or at least, that's what they told me.
We've been starting to teach the community how to defend themselves. Rosita and I have taught them how to use knives, while Rick, Glenn, and Daryl have started teaching them how to use guns. Daryl and I have yet to pat things up exactly, but we can be in the same room with one another, and we can talk indirectly. I miss him so much but don't know how to apologize. I finally decided to for the sake of our friendship, but I'm at a loss.
Morgan, the man who showed up that night with Aaron and Daryl, is the same man Rick tried communicating with at the quarry all those years ago—he's also the same man who stabbed Rick in the shoulder. He's a nice man, however. He doesn't seem as looney as Rick painted him out to be back at the prison.
~*~
I sat inside the house near the kitchen, wiping Pete's blood off. The man, Daryl, and Rick sat inside, the two of us watching as the man and Daryl ate. We were all silent—unsure of what to say. I leaned against the kitchen counter and threw the bloodied rag down, letting it soak in the pre-filled sink. Carl and Selena were upstairs with Judith, watching her while all the craziness died. The man looked back at me, smiling as he shoveled some of the food I had prepared into his mouth.
"This is good," He smiled, "Thank you—"
"June," I nodded at him, unwilling to smile.
"Thank you, June," The man smiled again, "Morgan." Morgan? Wait... isn't that the name of the man who helped Rick get out of King's County? I looked at Rick and cocked an eyebrow, receiving a head nod as my answer. So, this is the infamous Morgan: the man who helped Rick escape and stabbed him in the shoulder. I watched as Morgan looked over at Rick, a melancholy expression on his face.
"You were right. It isn't over," He said, spooning some more of the vegetarian lasagna I had made yesterday into his mouth. Rick looked at me and then at Morgan, his bloodied face looking dark in this lighting.
"We should talk more tomorrow," Rick nodded, "Listen, I don't take chances anymore."
"And you shouldn't."
~*~
"Listen up," Rick started, standing with me in the front, "Now, I know this sounds insane, but this is an insane world. We have to come for them before they come for us. It's that simple." I clapped my hands in front of me and looked at the people gathered.
"This is where it's gonna start tomorrow," I said, speaking loud enough so that everyone could hear me over the loud growling behind us, "Tobin gets in the truck, opens the exit, and we're off." Rick placed a hand on my shoulder, shielding his eyes with the other hand.
"He hops out and catches up with his team at red, staying on the west side of the road. Daryl and June will get on the bike—" A rumbling behind us made Rick stop mid-sentence. I turned and watched as a semi on the rock overpass started to rumble and groan—the rocks beneath it giving under the weight of the vehicle and the mountain of walkers surrounding it. The semi-trick landed with a massive thud, shaking the ground underneath us. It's falling so much sooner than we anticipated!
"It's open!" Rick and I screamed together.
"We got to do this now!" Rick screamed as he started to shout orders around at everyone. I didn't hesitate as I approached Daryl, my gun in my hands, and aimed, getting ready for the walkers coming our way.
"Get ready to hit the flares!" I screamed, watching as Rick held up his arm to signal.
"Now!" Rick screamed and lowered his arm. Heath, a man who came a few days after Reg's death—he'd been in charge of scavenging and bringing more materials to the community—ran behind us and fired the first flares.
The two semis in front of us started to move, and the walkers began to pile out in large masses. I fired the first shots and began to retreat with Daryl, nearing the motorcycle as more and more walkers started to pile out. The rest of our group started running in different directions, following the plan we had devised a few days ago. I jumped on the back of Daryl's motorcycle and turned, firing one more shot into the horde in front of us. Daryl climbed and revved his engine, grabbed their full attention, and slowly drove ahead.
~*~
The morning had come, and we had found a house for Morgan by ours. Daryl stood outside, working on his new bike while I watched from the safety of my porch. It's still awkward between us, and I can't find the courage to approach him and apologize. Who knew that I, June Gomez, would have difficulty apologizing when she was wrong? I rolled my eyes at my sarcastic thought and turned as the front door opened. Rick walked out, clean and in fresh clothing, his eyes squinting in confusion as he looked at the distance between Daryl and me. I grabbed his hand, letting him lead me down the steps towards the rugged man.
"Morgan told me what happened out there by the trucks," Rick started, looking down at Daryl as he continued working on his bike. Daryl looked up, his pale blue eyes landing on me for a fraction of a second before diverting to Rick.
"Did he tell you about those guys he met?" Daryl asked as he stood up, "The ones with the W." My ears perked up as I heard this, my heart skipping a beat. I knew it was the work of some crazed group!
"I've seen a ton of walkers with the same marking," I muttered, keeping my eyes on the ground, "We need more watchpoints. I'll talk to Deanna. I'll tell her we don't need to look for more people until we eliminate these W people." I turned on my heel, leaving the two men behind me.
~*~
It was quiet between us as he drove slowly. We always maintained an eight-foot gap between the walkers and us. I refrained from holding onto him, knowing it would be awkward if I did, and tried to relax my body. I could see from his tense back that he felt just as uncomfortable as I did. Shit, I really should've gone with Rick, Michonne, and Morgan. Sasha and Abraham pulled in front of us in their car, keeping a slow speed. The growls behind us were loud, almost drowning out the sound of the bike. We're lucky Rick and Morgan found this massive horde before it was too late.
~*~
"Deanna?"
I called out as I opened her front door. I spent a few minutes knocking on the door, but when no one came, I got worried. The house was dark and silent, and it seemed like a hurricane had smashed through it. Papers were thrown everywhere; books were on the ground, and a smear of blood was on the wall. My heart picked up as I followed droplets of blood on the floor, my hand reaching for my knife. Finally, the droplets led me into the kitchen, where Deanna sat at the table with a rag pressed firmly to her palm. Deanna looked up at me with dead eyes and a permanent frown etched across her face, exhaustion evident. I couldn't feel it in my heart to flash her a smile or a frown, so instead, I pulled up a seat next to her and grabbed her injured hand. A shard of glass was still embedded deep in her skin, and blood oozed.
"First aid?" I asked her, not expecting an answer. Instead, Deanna sighed heavily and nodded towards her restroom, her lips tightly pressed together. I can't bother her with this right now. She just lost her husband last night. I don't think anyone expects her to be all right. I entered her bathroom, looked around in her cabinets, and finally came across the first aid kit. Slowly, I walked back to the mourning woman and grabbed her hand again.
"When this all started," I began as I plucked the piece of glass from her hand, "My dad was bitten," I grabbed some of the antiseptic and dabbed it onto a piece of cotton, thoroughly coating it before pressing it firmly on Deanna's palm, "We still didn't understand what was going on. We had high hopes that the army would come to town and that there would be a cure within a few days, but there wasn't. So instead, my dad got sicker and sicker." I blew on the cut, trying to soothe the burning sensation even though Deanna wasn't showing any indication that this was hurting her, "My mom, she was by his side all day and night—crying and praying, something she never did. He died the following day at 7:31 in the morning."
"I-I'm sor—" I shook my head, placing a bandage on her palm and holding her hand for a few more seconds.
"Of course, my sister and I were sad. We broke down because we never expected to lose him so quickly," I inhaled deeply, the faint dull ache in my chest making itself present as I thought back to those first days, "My mom—she couldn't deal with it. She had just lost the love of her life. So, you can imagine her hopefulness when he started coming back. I still remember looking into his eyes and realizing it wasn't father anymore. His eyes, which used to be so warm and loving, were now cold and lifeless." I grabbed my knife and put it on the table, my eyes lingering on his initials.
"I grabbed this knife, and I stabbed it through his head," I murmured, "It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do at that point in my life," I looked at Deanna and blinked rapidly, trying my hardest to contain my tears, "My mom, she couldn't handle the grief. She couldn't live this life without my father by her side. So the next morning, she walked out into the streets and started wailing, begging to join my dad wherever he was." I let a single tear escape my eyes as I remembered that day. I still remembered what I was wearing, the smell in the air as more and more of the dead wandered, and the stillness of the neighborhood.
"The last thing my sister and I saw of our mom was her being torn to shreds. I still remember how she screamed as they started eating her—" I closed my eyes and shook away the memories,
"My point is, Deanna, I've seen what grief can do to someone. I've seen how empty it makes someone. I've seen how it's driven someone to kill themselves. It's a scary thing," I ran a hand through my hair and looked at the teary-eyed woman before me, "My mom was weak—I see that now. If she had continued surviving, everything we've been through out there would've killed her a hundred times over. So I guess I'm happy that she isn't here. My mom was kind and gentle; she couldn't have survived in this new world. It would have slowly killed her."
I grabbed Deanna's good hand, gently squeezing it, "You're strong, Deanna. I know it's really, really hard right now, and it feels like a part of you is missing, but you're strong. With our help, you can make this community become a new start for everyone." Deanna used her injured hand to wipe away her tears, a sniffle coming from her as the hand I held squeezed mine. She couldn't smile at me – I didn't expect her to – but she nodded.
"I want you to take charge for now," Deanna croaked, her voice thick with emotion, "I can't... not now. But you're right, I'm strong," I smiled at her and gave her a reassuring squeeze, "I need a while more, so I'd appreciate it if you took my place for the time being."
"Of course,"
~*~
As we approached the RV, I turned and gave the monstrous horde a final glance. Orange balloons were tied to the mirrors, and flares skyrocketed in the sky. Daryl began to come to a stop, his legs extending outwards. My anxiety started to climb as the horde started to get closer. The wall we had Carter build stood tall and reinforced, shaking slightly as the walkers started to bounce against it. Daryl started to pick up the pace, leading them through the curvature with Sasha and Abraham right by our sides. More flares were shot into the sky, providing a signal for the rest of our group that was scattered. Daryl revved his engine, and the bike jumped forward slightly, making my heart jump and my arms loop around his waist. I could feel Daryl chuckle against me as I held on to him. A smile spread across my face, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"What're you braying about?" I chuckled, my voice coming out louder than intended. Daryl shook his head, and his back still jumped as he laughed at me.
"Nothin," Daryl answered, his low voice almost drowned out by the walkers. "We talkin' again?" My heart tugged at his words, and my smile fell. I wanted him back—I wanted us back to how we were, but I don't know if that's what he wants.
"Daryl—" I began, unsure of myself. "I'm really sorry." I could feel Daryl stiffen underneath my grip and sighed.
"For what?" He asked, taking a small peek at me, "I'm the dick,"
"If you're the dick, then I'm the bitch," I answered. Daryl chuckled again and reached a hand behind him, patting me awkwardly on my side.
"Missed ya," He muttered so low that it was almost lost against all the noise around us. I could also swear I heard him mutter a low "Sorry." I tightened my grip on his waist and rested my head against his shoulder, happy we were back to normal.
~*~
Rick, Morgan, and I walked side by side toward the middle of the community. They were filling me in on the large horde they found just a mile away from here. According to Rick and Morgan, it's the most walkers they've ever seen in one spot—easily in the hundreds. Eugene ran up to me, his face slightly red.
"June, there's a man and his group here," Eugene told me breathlessly, "Says they're part of a scavenging team. They're waiting for you in the administration house,"
"Thank you, Eugene," I smiled at him, "Do me a favor and gather everyone in the community. We have something to talk about," Eugene nodded at me and ran off in the opposite direction. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I saw him half-assedly run away.
"So, you're the leader?" Morgan asked, still trying to understand the inner workings of the community. I shook my head and started walking towards the administration house with them, my arms crossing in front of my chest.
"No," I answered him, "Deanna is. I'm her understudy. She put me in charge for the time being while she grieves," I paused outside the house and looked at the men, my lips pursing. They followed me as I climbed the steps and opened the door. A group of five stood in the middle of the foyer, the heads snapping towards me as I entered the house. A man with glasses and tight braids approached me, his face unreadable as he scanned me over.
"Where's Deanna?" He finally asked as Rick closed the door behind us. I motioned for him to enter the office and led the way.
"She's at home," I answered, standing opposite him and gripping the back of the sofa, "Reg was killed last night," I watched as the man's face softened. He looked down at his feet and wiped his brow, his sorrowful eyes landing on me again.
"Who are you?"
"I'm June Gomez," I introduced myself, "This is Morgan and Rick," I pointed to them, "We're part of the new group that came about two weeks ago. Rick serves as the town constable, and I am Deanna's understudy. She entrusted me to lead the community while she takes this time to grieve."
"I'm Heath," He reached forward, his hand extended towards me. I smiled at him and grabbed his hand, giving it a good shake. People started to pile in, low chatter filling the room while we waited patiently. Daryl came in and looked around, his eyes lingering on me for a second before darting to the ground beneath his feet. A sharp pain struck my heart as I looked at him, saddened by the whole situation. Who would've thought that Daryl and I wouldn't be on speaking terms?
"Is everyone here?" I questioned, trying to shake away the sorrow in my chest. Murmurs came from around me as everyone looked around, "It's come to my attention that we might be in danger," Frantic voices rang out, preventing me from continuing. I raised my hand in the air, silencing everyone so I could continue, "Rick and Morgan tell me that there are hundreds of walkers about a mile from here, stuck behind two semis—"
"Wait," Heath spoke up, his hands in his pockets, "Are you talking about that big rock overpass?" Rick turned and joined me in the front, his eyes on Heath.
"That's the one," Rick confirmed.
"We saw it early on," Heath said, "Back when we were on one of those first scouts, finding out what was around here. There was a camp at the bottom. The people, they must have blocked the exits with one of those trucks back when everything started to go bad. They didn't make it. They were all roamers. Maybe a dozen of them,"
"No one's been back since?" I asked the man. Heath shook his head and leaned up against the nearest wall.
"DC, every town worth scavenging are all in the other direction, and I never really felt like having a picnic next to the camp that ate itself," Heath explained.
"So all the while, the walkers have been drawn by the sound," Michonne deduced from her spot on the sofa, "And they're making more sound, and they're drawing more in."
"And here we are," I said, wrapping my arms around myself, "A mile away. If they break loose, they'll take Alexandria." Rick sighed and placed his hands on his hips, eyes searching the room.
"Now, what I'm proposing may sound risky, but walkers are already slipping through the exits," Rick started, "One of the trucks keeping the walkers in could go off the edge any day now, maybe after one more hard rain. That exit sends them east," Fear struck me. If that truck falls, it'll send all those walkers our way, and we're done for, "All of them. Right at us." The door to the office opened, and Deanna wormed her way through, dressed in all black, "It isn't about if it gives; it's when. It's gonna happen. That's why we have to do this soon,"
"This is—I don't have another word for it—this is terrifying," Carol spoke up. I rolled my eyes at her, still annoyed by her façade, "All of it. But it doesn't sound like there's any other way," One of the group members, Carter, spoke up. From what I know, he helped Reg build the wall.
"Maybe there is," He looked terrified as he looked at Rick and me, "I mean, couldn't we just build up the weak spots? I could draw up plans. I worked on the wall with Reg. Construction crew—we can try to make it safe,"
"Even if we could, the sound of those walkers is drawing more and more every day," Rick said. So it must be more than I could ever imagine if the sound draws more in. "Building up the exits won't change that," I looked at the group and nodded, knowing the best plan of action.
"We're going to do what Rick says—the plan he's laid out," I said, looking around at the frightened community before me.
~*~
"You know what you said about not going out there anymore," Daryl muttered, "About not finding more people," I adjusted myself on the bike and leaned into him, trying to hear him better, "I think you're wrong about that. We need more people to make ourselves stronger," He's right, but with those W people out there, we can't take that risk.
"I agree with you, Daryl," I nearly shouted over the engine's roar, "But after what Morgan said—after his run-in with those people—we can't take that risk." I tightened my grip around him and pressed myself closer, my imagination getting the best of me again, "I don't want you and Aaron out there and getting caught by those people. I'm not willing to risk it, and neither is Deanna. Now that she's better, we've decided it's what's best," Daryl grumbled, the vibrations running up his back. A car door slammed next to us, and Abraham ran out, his voice echoing through the trees. A small cluster of walkers had branched off and started flowing into the woods, so I guess this was a good idea. He just better hope he doesn't get bit 'cause I'll kill him for being so stupid. I watched as he hollered and cheered, gaining all their attention before returning to the car.
"What's with you gingers?" Daryl shouted, "Are y'all always this stupid?" I giggled and looked behind us, noticing all the walkers were back in their clusters.
"But it worked, didn't it?" I shouted, renewing the interest of the walkers behind us.
~*~
I stood with Rick and Deanna a few days later, stressing how these people need to learn to protect themselves as we stood by at the corner of Marshall and Redding. There's only so much we can do to help protect them; they need to put in some of the effort. Twigs snapped in the distance, grabbing my undivided attention. I reached for my knife but hung back, my arms extending for our people who knew how to fight off walkers.
"They're coming," I muttered to Deanna. It's not like we'd let anyone die, but I want them to face their weakness. A small group of walkers escaped the trees, prompting screams and shouts of terror to escape the people of Alexandria.
"Use your shovels and knives!" Rick called out to them, "Your guns will only draw more." I watched as Carter and some others started to retreat with looks of fear on their faces, occasionally pushing back a walker. I pursed my lips and gripped my knife tighter, anxious to begin helping these defenseless people.
We can't let any of them die. I sprang forward with Morgan, hearing Rick's calls for us and ignoring them. I jumped in front of Carter and pinned the walker to the wall, stabbing my blade into its head and letting it fall to the ground. A walker grabbed my arm, its teeth snapping at me. I grabbed it by the neck, using my strength to keep its teeth away from my flesh. Rick lunged forward and stabbed it through the head, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I smiled at him and looked back at the scared people, ensuring they were all okay. Carter stared me down with a deep frown.
"What would've happened if we didn't jump in?" I asked the small group, scolding them like children. "None of you would be here right now. This is why you need to learn how to defend yourselves! We won't always be here to save the day."
The small group muttered at me, save one. Carter glared at me with a spark of hatred behind his eyes.
~*~
Two days after the walker incident outside the gates, Rick, Morgan, Daryl, and I walked to the armory. We needed to grab some weapons before heading towards the wall we were building at Marshall and Redding. It was silent between us, but it felt incredibly awkward for me. Daryl and I had managed to talk to one another briefly, but that was only because Rick was there. It wasn't about anything but the wall, so there are still some issues he and I need to address. If I don't apologize first, I'm scared we'll never return to how we were.
I twisted the knob and stopped as I saw Carter pointing a gun at Eugene. Rick touched my stomach and gently pushed me back, trying to get me behind him. Instead, I walked forward and looked at Carter, my eyes locking on his terrified face.
"What the hell's going on here?" I asked, keeping my voice scarily even. I watched as Eugene cowered under the barrel of the gun, his brow littering with sweat.
"What are you doing?" Rick questioned, his blue eyes harsh.
"Taking this place back from the two of you," Carter said, shaking slightly. I stepped forward and frowned as I saw Spencer, Holly, Oliva, and Tobin in the armory.
"That's what you guys are talking about in here?" Rick asked them, glaring at each of them.
"That's what he was talking about," Spencer quickly answered. I hissed and looked back at Carter, my head shaking.
"Rick, how dumb is he?" I let out a slight chuckle as I stared at Carter. Rick grabbed my shoulder and shook his head, almost as if he was berating the terrified man.
"Extremely," Rick answered, "See, I would have set up some lookouts. That would have been the smart thing. You know if I happened to—" Rick quickly let go of my shoulder and attacked Carter, immediately knocking the gun out of his hands. Rick let the man go and grabbed the gun, pointing it at his head.
"You really think you're gonna take this community from us?" I should jump in and stop Rick, but Carter needs some fear embedded into him so he never messes with us again, "From Glenn? From Daryl? From June? From me?" I crouched down and put a finger under Carter's chin, lifting his head so he could look me in the eye.
I tsked at the scared expression on his face and let a false frown spread across my lips.
"Do you have any idea of how stupid you are?" I asked him, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. "You don't know who you're fucking with," He looked me in the eyes and started to tear up, his voice shaky.
"It was just me—" He breathed, "Just kill me—it was just me." I almost felt bad for the cowardly man on his knees. He tried to be big and tough, but he was nothing. He's like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs. I looked up at Rick and nodded at him, figuring that Carter had had enough.
"Mi amor," I called out to Rick.
"I'm good," Rick answered, handing the gun over to me. I smiled at him and tucked the gun away in my waistline, my eyes never leaving Carter.
"You can try to work with us," Rick told Carter, "You can try to survive. Would you do that?" Carter looked at us wide-eyed, probably surprised that Rick and I didn't gun him down. He nodded and gulped loudly, his eyes still teary, "Good,"
~*~
I leaned against Daryl's shoulder and sighed contentedly despite the monster horde following us. Suddenly, gunfire rang out behind us, startling me. Our walkie buzzed off, voices calling out frantically as Rick explained what happened. Carter was bitten in the face; he started screaming and drew some walkers off their path. Tobin's group is the group firing the shots, trying to get them back on track. I looked back at the walkers and pursed my lips, still anxious about this whole thing. It's a good plan, but there's so much room for error, especially since we didn't expect to pull this off until tomorrow. Today was supposed to be a dry run. I leaned against Daryl again and sighed, trying to calm my nervous heart. I stiffened alongside Daryl, and a loud horn started blaring in the distance. I quickly grabbed the walkie and pressed the red button, my heart hammering in my ears.
"What's going on!" I screamed into the device, hoping someone would answer me. Static came from the device, sparking even more fear. The device sounded, and Rick's voice came through—he only said one word, but it was enough to help me understand the severity of everything.
"Home,"