"I'm looking for Rick," the man said as he lifted both hands up into the air slowly. "I'm only here because I want to speak to him."
"He's four houses down," Aaron scowled. He brought his gun out and slid the safety back, an audible click in the stillness of the upstairs hallway. "That door? That's not the one for you."
Ivy kept her knife tight against the stranger's spine. It was easier to focus on the movement of it than to picture Beth and Enid sleeping on the other side of the door, unaware to the danger creeping up on them.
"Can I turn around?" Aaron caught Ivy by the shoulder and nudged her backwards some, widening the gap between them and the the man. He moved slowly as he revealed his face. "Hi. I'm Jesus."
His hair was long and Ivy could just barely make out the bruising along his temple in the darkness. She felt the vibrations through the floorboards as the front door slammed open, people rushing up the stairs in their boots. Daryl and Abraham had their guns out and trained on the stranger as they came into view.
"So? Can we talk now?" Jesus asked, hands waving slightly as he took in the hallway crowd.
"He wants Rick," Aaron called, not turning. "Must've come through the window."
A door opened up fully and Eric was slowly coming into view. "I can go get him. I'll get Deanna and Michonne on the way and we can have this discussion as a group."
Aaron nodded and the man came around, his hand catching his shoulder for a brief second before vanishing down the steps. "We're going to move downstairs and away from that door. Think we can do that?"
"Hey, I'm just the guest."
Daryl snapped something and Ivy flinched, not quite hearing it. She risked turning and saw his face through a slant of moonlight. "Get over here."
For a brief moment, Ivy was torn between keeping put or following Daryl's command. But she relented, snapping her switchblade shut and crossing the slight distance as the men kept their guns trained on Jesus. Daryl physically blocked her from view with Abraham's aid and she felt safer beside them both, aware of the way Daryl knowingly read her movements and adjusted slightly when she tried to peer around him.
Aaron slipped behind Jesus and led him down the stairs while Daryl and Abraham kept point. They made their way to the dining room where the table was still covered in bits of coloured string and jars of beads from earlier. Jesus took the chair he was directed to and gazed out at the remains, processing the scattered bits and pieces as well as the different chairs shoved out of place. "Please tell me that wasn't a room full of girls up there."
Ivy felt Daryl twitch.
"My intentions were just to find Rick. I wasn't trying to disturb the peace."
"Well, you disturbed it," Daryl sneered, his foot catching a chair and dragging it out for Ivy to sit in. He stood behind her with a hand on the back of her neck, refusing to move.
Rick suddenly came around to corner with Deanna and Michonne. "I'm here. Now how the hell did you end up here?"
Jesus tilted his head slightly. "One guard can't cover two exits. Or third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?"
He exchanged a look with Deanna, both edging forward for the lead in conversation. It was different seeing Deanna with a gun in her hand. They were all evolving into a new kind of Alexandria. "Right," Rick ground out, uneasy with the stranger.
"I checked out your arsenal. I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. You're well equipped but your provisions are running low. Very low for the amount of people you have here. Fifty four?"
"More than that," Michonne bluffed, snagging a chair for herself. They had lost people to the Wolves and when walkers invaded the community but they weren't going to admit it all at once. Their losses were personal, a wound that Alexandria hadn't experienced before.
Jesus sighed. "Look, we got off to a bad start. But we're on the same side— the living side."
"Doesn't feel like the same side," Daryl scowled. "Not when you jumped us and tried to take what we had."
Ivy tried to twist to see his face but his hand kept her steady. Fingers lightly squeezed as a command and she was forced to stay still. His irritation earlier suddenly made sense.
"You and Rick had every reason to leave me out there. But you didn't. I'm from a place that's a lot like this one. Part of my job is looking for other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things. And both of you looked like trouble. I was wrong. You're good people. And this is a good place. I think our communities might be able to help each other out."
"What's your food situation like?" Deanna asked.
"We started to raise livestock. We scavenge, grow. Everything from tomatoes to sorghum."
"Tell us why you think we should believe you?"
"I'll show you. We take a car, I can take you back home in a day and you can see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer."
Wait, you're looking for more settlements?" Michonne cut in, leaning forward. Curiosity made her eyes look brighter. "You mean you're already trading with other groups?"
"Your world's about to get a whole lot bigger." Jesus smiled.
.
"If he's telling the truth, this could be the start of everything," Daryl heard Rick say to Glenn, watching as Carl hauled surplus gas cans into the back of the RV. "This could be different."
Daryl wiped his hands clean on a rag before slamming the hood down, content in his brief inspection of the engine. Glenn usually kept a good eye on the state of the RV, familiar with the workings from Dale's tutorials back in the beginning, and it had been fairly primed already for a longer route. But he still liked going over the fine details himself, unwilling to trust luck to ferry them back and forth into the unknown.
Hilltop was extraordinarily close to Alexandria. However they had managed to steer clear of each other's radars, Daryl wasn't sure. Their borders jutted up against each other, but where Alexandria clung to the old streets and roadways, Hilltop worked into the farmland that was slightly more isolated. Deanna and Jesus had gone over a map with markers that morning, colouring in sections for hunting and runs, learning the patterns of two groups of people.
He turned around and found Ivy right there, face blank of any emotion to give her away. "Hey."
"You good?" Daryl checked, shoving the rag in his pocket. "You don't gotta come if it'll be too much."
Her bruised shoulders hitched upwards in a shrug. "I'd rather see it."
Daryl's plan for neatly sidelining her away from Jesus failed the minute the man picked the wrong house to go looking for Rick. Leaving her behind hadn't been an option the minute she heard about Hilltop. And he could tell she was edging into a panic attack, picturing something similar to Woodbury sitting just miles away.
"You remember the deal?"
"Be nice to strangers?" Ivy said, sarcastic. But then her hands moved, running through quick signs. 'Stay beside you. No wandering. No separating. No running off.'
Beth and Enid had wrangled their way into coming along as well and Daryl had wanted to head off any situations that could develop accordingly. They looked fairly passive as they walked down the sidewalk in their jackets, both girls concealing guns at their sides from the length of the material, but apparently they had a habit for stealing and stashing rifles on rooftops, baiting invaders, and running straight into danger without thinking twice about it.
Daryl still didn't know how they had gotten the rifle in the first place and how they managed to stash it on Deanna's roof. When he pressed Ivy on the subject, she merely shrugged and mumbled something about it being a lucky find.
'And if you start feeling spooked, you tell me.'
Ivy tried to turn around and slip away but Daryl caught her neatly, one hand coming around her arm like an anchor holding her in place. "That's non negotiable. Let's try that again."
"Alright, I'll tell you," Ivy said, looking away. He held her there until he felt confident that she was being honest. "I promise. The minute I feel it, I'll tell you."
She still carried bruises from that night she ran against the herd. They were little marks that showed Daryl just how close it had been, how lucky he was that Maggie was a good shot from the platform. "You'd better," he warned her and released her, letting her finally run off towards Beth and Enid. The three bunched tight together and Beth signed something discreet, keeping her hand movements small and tight to her chest to limit anyone else from seeing properly.
"The girl with the knife yours?" Jesus asked, appearing at his side like a shadow.
Daryl resisted the urge to twitch and merely grunted, content to let Rosita herd the three into the RV.
The sky was a dull grey that laid across Alexandria like a blanket. Some people peered out their windows at the RV and their movements, clearly curious about the new man standing there. Jesus looked at ease as he peered around, surveying the lawns and porches like a distant spectator. "It's a nice place here. Deanna told me about the rabbit set up."
Despite all odds, Abraham's craftsmanship had held up against the herd. The rabbits had been twitchy and spooked by the time they came around to check on the damage, but the door had been as secure as the man designed it to be. Abraham's work as a carpenter was meticulous. It had taken four grown men to haul the bookshelf he made Ivy up the narrow stairwell, barking at each other as they strained against the weight, grimacing per every step. And now he was engaged with a secret project Daryl had caught a glimpse of, briefly, in the unused garage of the man's house, a cradle to surprise Rosita with.
"You're not one for talking, are you?" Jesus asked wryly.
"No."
"I get it. I get why you're not a fan of me."
Jesus had led Rick and Daryl on a merry chase, stolen their haul, ambushed them twice, and been the reason for their ride full of goods ending up in the lake. He also, coincidentally, ended up right outside the room his daughter and her two friends had been sleeping in.
Daryl was practising a good deal of patience in refraining from giving the man a matching bruise to even out the one he currently sported.
"This might surprise you," Jesus said, smiling. "But we might end up as friends one day."
"Let's chew up some asphalt," Abraham demanded from the door, smacking his hand against the side like a drum. Their group slowly filtered into the RV while the bigger man kept post, counting each head like a nervous parent overseeing a flock, refusing to budge until the last person made it in. Rosita's hand caught his on the way up the steps for a mere second, reassurance in a fleeting touch, fingers brushing away some of the stress in the man's gaze.
Rick was perched in the driver's seat with Michonne sitting shotgun. Everyone scrambled for some kind of arrangement and Daryl got Ivy squared away beside him, neatly cornering the other two on the couch with Aaron, Rosita, and Abraham. The woman slumped instantly against Abraham and fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.
Someone hauled the gate open and Daryl caught a glimpse of Eugene's face from the window as they passed through, slowly picking up speed as they coasted along the road. A few old abandoned cars had been shoved to the curb and it made it easy for Rick to start pushing the laws of speed with the ancient RV, coaxing it into running faster and faster until they were cutting their way along, devouring distance.
Aaron pulled out a comic from his bag and tossed it towards Enid who instantly took it and flipped it open, her hair brushing forward to hide her expression. They were slowly gravitating into some resemblance of a family unit; coaxing and making small steps, reading each other with less wariness.
It reminded him of Ivy in the beginning. Daryl slung his arm back across the couch and felt the way she instantly responded, shifting closer so she could lean her head back comfortably. "Can we go camping?" She asked. "After this is done?"
"Haven't we done enough of that?"
"Like, actual camping. Normal people camping. Less surviving, more... whatever," Ivy frowned, puzzling over her words as she tried to convey what she wanted.
Daryl snorted. "Yeah, we can do that."
His own childhood had been out in the woods with either his father or Merle, learning the ropes of survival between the two of them. He could probably wrangle a tent and some supplies from Aaron and Eric at some point and take her before the weather got any sharper as the season passed along.
The RV suddenly slowed and Glenn was on his feet, leaning over to shove the curtain blinds back. "Rick, what's going on?"
"We got a crash ahead," he called back, cautiously pulling to the side of an overturned car. A bit of smoke curled upwards from the engine. "Looks like it just happened."
Jesus spun around, clambering to his feet almost gracelessly. "That's one of ours," he said, face drawn tight.
Rick hit the brakes grudgingly and Jesus was at the door, fumbling for the lock before throwing himself out onto the road. Walkers had gotten pinned against the wreck of the car and their arms strained as he skirted the edges, peering for survivors. Someone's bag had fallen in the escape and a badly dented door had been left open.
Daryl scouted the ground for the best prints to start with while Rick pulled his gun out as a warning. "If this is a trick, it won't end well for you."
"My people are in trouble," Jesus fired back, irate. "They don't— we don't have a lot of fighters. I know how it looks, but I'll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?"
"Nah," Daryl called, pointing towards a clean set of marks on the ground. "We got tracks right here. See? They're lined up neat."
He said the last part for Enid who was peering over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. She squinted at the dusty earth and Daryl shifted, directing her attention to the clumsy, uneven gait imbedded into the ground. "See this? The dead ones stagger around like the town drunk. They limp, they pull their weight different. Living usually keeps a pretty quick step."
The followed the line into the distance towards a large community centre where the paved walkway made the trail vanish. Daryl shrugged at the sight of it, the boarded up windows and lack of better signs to follow.
Rick knocked on a door and tried to listen for noise but Jesus was straining to move faster, desperation etched into the lines of his face. "They've gotta be in there."
"We moving in or what?" Abraham shrugged, pulling out a knife. "Can't stand here all day with our asses hanging out."
"How do we know this ain't firecrackers in a trash can?" Daryl sneered in Jesus's direction, still fresh with anger. Maggie and Rosita were covering their flank with the girls piled between them and Daryl kept between them and the man. He missed his crossbow that the stranger on the road had stolen, he missed the reassurance of knowing that they were alone in the world.
"We'll get your people," Rick told Jesus, stepping away from the door. "You're staying here with one of us."
"That's the deal," Michonne frowned. She shifted her grip on her sword as she judged the threat before them.
"Will you stay?" Glenn asked Maggie quietly from where he covered one side of their group, standing opposite to Abraham. The woman gave a quick nod and detached herself from where she stood, lining up next to Jesus neatly.
Rick pointedly pulled out a set of handcuffs from his belt and restrained Jesus's hands behind his back. Daryl saw the briefest flicker of emotion on Ivy's face before she schooled it blank, her weight shifting slightly as she rocked back on one heel. Daryl tucked that detail away with the many others; the triggers he was learning bits and pieces of over time.
"Just hurry," Jesus muttered.
"You hear me whistle, shoot him."
.
Dark forms of walkers wandering the long hallway and were barely visible from the slight window. Rick took the lead and caught the first one hard with a knife and Michonne went second, her sword a mere flash of metal as she swung.
Daryl whistled light to catch attention and jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway that ran the other way, tugging Ivy's sleeve lightly to keep her following after him. They peeled off separate from the group with Glenn, cautiously stepping across old floorboards that creaked and moaned loudly.
He pushed Glenn back as he sensed movement from the shadows and then plunged his knife hard through the forehead of a walker that sprang up, letting the other man catch the body and lower it quietly before it could drop.
Ivy suddenly whirled around and shoved her own knife straight up, catching a walker hard through the chin and up, one hand clutching tight to hair to try and maintain silence the best she could.
It had been a choice bringing Ivy with him but Daryl had wanted to see her engage with the undead himself, to see if she spooked after her near death experience with the herd. Their world couldn't guarantee her any safety but Daryl felt easier about it, knowing that he and Glenn had her covered if she started to falter.
Clattering from inside the room caught their attention and Daryl cut around the corner and drew his gun out. A man was hiding behind a filing cabinet, clearly using the darkness of the room to his advantage to hide from the wandering undead.
"Come on," Glenn said, holding a hand out. "We're with Jesus. Let's go."
They sounded like missionaries, Daryl thought sourly.
"I can't go with you. I'm looking for my friend." The man said. His hands were lifted upright and he had the same clean look about him that Jesus sported. "He's close and he's hurt from the crash."
Distant yelling suddenly wrenched the confined space and they reacted, Glenn taking the lead as they retreated down the hall they had taken, his flashlight illuminating Abraham holding a man by his throat against the wall. "C'mon, man. Let's go!" He called as they ducked by, joining Rick and Michonne's bunch of survivors.
The darkness was teaming with walkers and Daryl used his shoulder to drive one against the wall, allowing Abraham to finish the job while he kept the body in place. Ivy ducked around him and kicked one hard so it toppled over and was at an easier level for her to reach, jamming her switchblade straight through the barely visible shine of an eye.
Enid popped the door open as they sprinted for it and they flew out in a desperate rush, the RV a mere lighthouse of safety from where it stood untouched on the road. Abraham did his same ridiculous headcount as their people got gathered up, crowded compared to earlier, jamming in tight bunches around the narrow space as Rick forced the RV back to life. "We good for that detour?" He asked dryly, half turning as he started moving along the original crash that had caught their attention.
Jesus tossed the handcuffs in his direction and Michonne picked them up, her brows lifting as she took in his freed hands. "I don't really like jewelry, but thank you."
The little patchy looking town vanished as they started moving again, devouring miles relentlessly. Ivy seemed slightly more at ease after the unexpected violence but she was fastened to his side almost, refusing to look at any of their new passengers. They ended up taking a seat on the floor of the narrow kitchenette, Daryl listening to the sound of the one man organizing his bag in the bedroom.
Rosita had followed him in and Abraham had followed after Rosita. Pills rattled from orange bottles as the stranger shifted his stock into some version of order. "I'm Harlan," he greeted. Daryl could barely see his face from their vantage point on the floor.
"Rosita. That's Abraham, my partner."
The man hummed lightly as he dropped another bottle into a pocket. "We're bringing back medication so you may have saved more people than just us back there, Abraham."
"You a doctor?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"You have any prenatal vitamins in there?" There was caution catching at Abraham's voice, an unexpected bit of normalcy.
Harlan's face broke out into an unexpectedly bright smile. "For you?" He asked Rosita. "Well, I was an obstetrician before, and I most definitely owe you. So, I'd say you two just hit the jackpot."
Lori, Daryl thought with a pang. So many people had held Judith, seen her grow up little by little. But Lori never had. She had died badly with nothing but desperation fuelling her demands, her children carrying echoes of the woman. He had seen, during his time on the road alone after the prison, an old hippie midwife book and wondered what Lori's chances could have been with a little more preparation, if they hadn't been under attack and divided right when her timing had slipped into place.
He wondered what her chances could have been with an obstetrician.
Tires spun suddenly and Ivy nearly toppled over as they jerked to a stop. Rick tried revving the motor and forcing the RV to jump the rough path but it merely jerked forward for a moment before settling back into the rut. "A storm must've passed through. We're stuck."
Jesus stood up and peered out the window into the distance. "No worries. We're here."
They followed him out the door and into the soft mud, cautiously navigating their way to where the ground was harder, less likely to catch at their feet. "That's us. That's the Hilltop."
A great fence lined the top of the hill like a crown. Trees had been culled for the project and Daryl gazed at the display of force and work, something that they could have only dreamed about creating in the prison. Ivy visibly softened at the sight of it, relaxing at how different it was from the monster she had been envisioning.
Ivy remembered the metal sheets around Woodbury, the buses and trucks parked along the edges. She thought of barbed wire and militia inspired patrols, that awkward jump from offensive maneuvers to casual domestic suburbia. Sometimes Alexandria caught her off guard, Daryl knew, unsettling her nerves when she caught the streets the wrong way.
Hilltop was something they hadn't seen before.
A dusty trail cut along the hill and they hiked the length of it, allowing Jesus to take the lead. But a man called down, unseen, "Stop right there!"
Guns sprang out on instinct. Ivy was a second off, clearly reacting to the movements around her, jerking her pistol out in answer. "You gonna make us?" Daryl called back, swinging his rifle up along the top of the fence to wait out movement.
"Jesus, what the hell is this?"
"Open the gates, Cal. Freddie's hurt," Jesus demanded, his arms outstretched like a shield as he divided their group from his. "Look, sorry about these guys," he said, softer as he turned around. "They get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing."
"They give up their weapons. Then we'll open the gates."
"Why don't you come down here and get 'em?" Daryl challenged. Fire caught at his temper and he was ready to fire the first round.
"Gentlemen," Harlan called, annoyed. "Look, we all vouch for these people, all right? They saved us like a handful of good samaritans. They can be trusted. They save us out there."
"Lower the spears," Jesus hissed up at the pair of guards who were suddenly visible.
"Look, I'm not taking any chances. Tell your guy Gregory to come out here."
Jesus spun around to face Rick. "No. Don't you see what just happened? I'm letting you keep your guns. Look, we ran out of ammo months ago. I like you people. I trust you. Trust us."
It took a long moment but Jesus's words seemed to soften something in Rick. He waved a hand up in silent command for their guns to lower.
"Open the gates, Cal," Jesus said sharply to the man watching them. They squeaked open in response, metal doors splitting open slowly, revealing Hilltop as a rustic looking colony set up in the shadow of a great house. Wooden stables and sheds had been constructed around the wall and he saw chimneys along the distance burning away at something, dark smoke curling into the air.
"Hey," Daryl warned Ivy before she could follow the group in. "You stay right where I can see you."
She nodded and fit herself beside him, Beth and Enid falling in with them like a pair of shadows. Aaron was a reassuring presence as they cut along the strange scenery, curiously gazing at the chickens and plant set ups, the rough looking blacksmith set up.
"Hey, thanks again," Harlan said, stopping Rosita and Abraham from going any further. "Come see me whenever. I'm just over here in the medical trailer, okay?"
"There was a materials yard for a power company nearby," Jesus explained, his heavy jacket flaring slightly as he spun around to take in their faces. "That's how we put in the walls. A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them."
Alexandria had an undeniable prettiness that came from multi-million dollar homes but Hilltop had been built from the ground up for pure function. Daryl took in the grit of the space, the way it maximized potential. Reg would want to be on the first car coming over to check out the scale of their walls himself for future projects on their own grounds.
"How did people find out about this place?" Maggie asked curiously as she took in the view.
Jesus pointed up at the behemoth standing before them, a brick house complete with a lockout view at the top. "That's called Barrington House. The family that owned it gave it to the state in the '30s. The state turned it into a living history museum," he explained. Daryl vaguely recalled an old field trip or two that the school covered the costs of to see something similar, old farms with animals, grand old houses sitting overtop like a royal spectator. "Every elementary school for fifty miles used to come here. The place was running a long time before the modern world built up around it. I think people came here because they figured it'd keep running after the modern world broke down."
"Those windows up there let us see for miles in every direction," Jesus continued. "It's perfect for security. Come on, I'll show you the inside."
"Good gracious, Ignatius," Abraham muttered as he took in the interior. A massive carpet ran along the room and they filed in uncomfortably, mud from their boots sticking to the fibres of the material.
"Most of the rooms have been converted to living spaces. Even the ones that weren't bedrooms."
"People live here and the trailers?" Rick asked, examining a few oil paintings hanging along the wall.
"We plan to build. There's babies being born."
Hinges creaked as a door was opened to reveal an older man dressed in a suit. Daryl backed away instinctively, covering the three girls with Aaron as they took in the stranger. "Jesus. You're back," the man said, flatly. His smile was thin as he considered the audience. "With guests."
"Everyone, this is Gregory," Jesus said. But then he hesitated, tone shifting just slightly. "He keeps the trains running on time around here."
Gregory extended his arms out wide for flourish. "I'm the boss."
Daryl suddenly missed Deanna's annoyingly placid attitude. He would have rather let the woman pry teeth out with pliers than sit and listen to Gregory move his mouth. One quick glance at Ivy confirmed that they were in agreement, her own expression glittering with annoyance.
"Well, I'm Rick. We have a community—"
"Why don't y'all get cleaned up, hmm?"
"We're fine."
"Jesus will show you where you can get washed up. Then come back down here when you're ready."
Beth was translating with signs for Ivy as the men glared at each other, Gregory's strange expression transitioning into something colder. The man leaned closer to Rick, his smile bright with a plastic shine. "It's hard to keep this place clean."
"Yeah, sure," Rick muttered, shoulders straightening as he surveyed the man. The pristine condition of the room suddenly made sense, as if it were a throne for a man bristling with self importance to sit at.
Daryl suddenly knew exactly what kind of person Gregory was.
"Follow me," Jesus sighed, leading them up the stairs.
"You clean up first. You talk to him," Rick muttered to Maggie.
"Why?"
"I really shouldn't," Rick sneered lightly, hands tightening on his weapon. "And you gotta start doing these things."
.
Maggie's face was bright was temper and Glenn clocked it instantly, jumping to his feet the second she came through the door. "What'd he say?" Glenn demanded, hand brushing towards his pistol holstered at his side.
"Do you like following after fools?" Maggie snapped at Jesus, spinning around to face where he stood braced against the wall. "You like aligning yourself with arrogant assholes?"
"What kind of man is he?" Rosita frowned, recognizing the temper burning.
"I'm not going to whore myself out for a bushel of wheat," Maggie snarled, livid. Her words instantly had the group buffering around her like protection even as she faced down Jesus with fire burning in her gaze.
Jesus tipped his head back in frustration. "Gregory is the kind of guy who grew up that might've benefited getting picked on a bit more. I thought he would have pretended for a little bit longer that he wasn't a complete asshole."
"He doesn't want to trade."
"We want to generate trade," Jesus corrected. "Gregory really does, but ammo isn't something we urgently need."
"Bullshit," Daryl scoffed, faltering between his urge to go into the room and drive his fist through Gregory's face or shake down Jesus for some common sense.
"The walls... they hold. We just brought in more medicine. Gregory wants the best deal possible."
"Yeah, well, we want things, too," Daryl bit out.
"We need food. We came all this way, we're gonna get it," Rick said, a vague promise glittering as he spoke.
"I will talk to him. And we will work this out. Circumstances change. We're doing well now, and you will next. I will make him understand that. Can you give me a few days?"
Michonne tilted her head. "We can."
Deanna had tasked her with leading the expedition but she and Rick seemed to be pulling back and forth for command, switching direction comfortably. Rick was a clear threat but Michonne lingered, her gaze like iron as she waited for her moment to strike.
Daryl wondered idly what she and Andrea had been like together, that cold winter alone, two lawyers sharing old stories across a campfire.
Someone shouted from outside and Gregory stormed out in time to see someone come through the front doors. "They're back," a man said. His face looked pale with dread.
Gregory suddenly left the house at a clipped pace, an awkward rush in dress shoes, leading them all out to survey the commotion. "Nathan? What happened to everyone else? Where's Tim and Marsha?"
Nathan strode up, his eyes red. "They're dead."
"Negan?"
"Yeah."
Daryl went still. He yanked a hand back and caught Ivy by the wrist firmly. Abraham and Glenn exchanged looks as they remembered their hold up on the road, the people who had stumbled straight into their path home.
"We had a deal!"
"He said it wasn't enough. Was the drop light?"
"No," Gregory said, sourly.
"They still have Craig," a woman said from behind. Her hair was falling down from the elastic securing most of it up and dirt was smeared across her face. They trio looked worn down from wherever they had come from, exhausted and angry wielded together.
"They said they'd keep him alive, return him to us," Nathan started, edging forward. "If I delivered a message to you."
"So," Gregory frowned. He waved a hand. "Tell me."
Nathan placed his own hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered. A knife plunged into Gregory's stomach and Daryl watched with apathy as the man bent forward, dress shirt turning bright with blood.
Michonne and Magie pulled Gregory back and started pressing their hands to the wound to staunch blood flow while others yanked Nathan back. "Get off of me!" He bellowed. "I had to!"
Rick caught the fist swinging for his face and drove his knee into the man's gut. Nathan went down hard on his back and he was on top of him, restraining him from further blows. One of Hilltop's people tried forcing Rick away and Abraham was there, grabbing hold of the figure by the shoulders and plowing him backwards to the ground.
But the man rolled, easily, and Abraham was pinned in place being choked. Daryl was on the attacker in a heartbeat, snapping his arm like a twig and making him howl like a broken thing.
"Stay back! Anyone who tries to stop me is killing my brother!" Nathan ordered, holding a knife to Rick's throat. Glenn was frozen in place.
"Drop it," Michonne said cooly from where she stood in place, distracting the man. Rick took his own knife and drove through the neck, fresh blood spurting out instantly.
Rick slowly picked himself up off of the ground, a reflection of the man who had bitten someone's throat out once. Blood was smeared across his face and neck, darkening the collar of his jacket. "What?"