Madeleine's consciousness slowly returns, the dim light within the cramped caravan casts an eerie glow. Her eyes flutter open to the sight of Hershel and Michonne, their faces etched with concern. Confusion floods her mind until she tries to move, only to find her wrists securely bound. An exasperated sigh escapes her lips, and she rolls her eyes in frustration.
"You've got to be joking," she grumbles, the tightness of her restraints adding to her irritation.
Michonne's gaze meets hers, a shared understanding passing between them. "The governor," she says with a hint of resignation. "He blindsided us, knocked us out cold, and dragged us here."
"How considerate of him," Madeleine retorts, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Hershel, the lines of worry etched deep into his weathered face, adjusts himself in his seat. "Both of you might have concussions. Try your best not to doze off," he advises, his concern palpable.
Madeleine scoffs at the absurdity of the situation. "Oh, of course," she replies, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because this cozy setup is just begging for a good night's sleep."
As Madeleine sits there, bound within the confines of the dimly lit caravan, her mind races with a mix of frustration and regret. There's a pulsating certainty within her, an unspoken intuition that had urged her to act sooner, to confront the looming threat before it materialized into their current predicament.
In hindsight, that lingering gut feeling—almost a whisper in her subconscious—had nudged her to take action, to find and neutralize the governor before he struck. Now, in the haunting clarity of this moment, it's a relentless echo, a persistent reminder of her failure to heed its warning.
She tosses and turns within the restraints, her mind swirling with what-ifs and missed opportunities. Every fiber of her being resonates with the knowledge that she should have pushed harder, been more persistent in her pursuit, and acted upon that intuitive tug she'd felt deep down.
But hindsight, with its piercing clarity, offers no solace. The hindsight that now mocks her for dismissing that inner voice, for underestimating the urgency it conveyed. It was a gut feeling, an instinct she'd learned to trust through experiences that taught her the value of intuition.
In this moment, bound and vulnerable, she wrestles with the realization that she had brushed aside that intuitive pull—a tug that screamed of impending danger, a warning that now feels like an unheeded prophecy.
As the governor arrogantly steps into the caravan, Michonne's eyes roll in exasperation, meeting his smug smirk with a silent defiance. His presence feels invasive, as though he's inspecting them as prized possessions, relishing in their vulnerability. When he moves toward Michonne, she instinctively attempts to evade his touch, her voice a sharp warning in the air.
"Don't touch me," she retorts, her eyes flashing with defiance.
"Stay still," he demands, his voice laced with a threatening glare, proceeding to tape her mouth shut despite her resistance.
Madeleine, seething with anger at the sight of Michonne being silenced, hisses her protest, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Get off her."
The governor, unbothered by Madeleine's words, proceeds to tape Michonne's mouth shut, his attention shifting to Madeleine. With an exaggerated sigh, he comments, "She talks too much, dear. You should eat. It's gonna be a long day." He then walks over to Hershel, offering a can of tuna as if it were some act of hospitality. "Nobody's gonna hurt you."
Hershel, wearied by the situation and refusing false reassurances, shakes his head in disbelief. "I don't believe that," he states firmly, his voice tinged with skepticism, refusing to be swayed by the governor's attempts to feign concern and safety.
The governor nonchalantly seats himself on the RV's couch, casually sifting through the first aid box as if their distress meant nothing to him.
"Just tell us what this is. Please," Hershel implores, while Madeleine narrows her eyes at the one-eyed man, distrust etched on her features.
"It isn't personal," the governor dismissively remarks, his indifference evident.
Hershel, maintaining his composure, retorts, "Then what is it?"
The governor shifts his focus back to them, his gaze fixed on Michonne, who remains silenced by the tape covering her mouth. "Michonne, I want you to know... Penny, my daughter, she was dead. I know that now," he admits with a solemn nod, his eyes lowering to the floor. "Now, I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. I need the prison, that's it. There are people I need to keep alive. You three are gonna help me take it. No one needs to die."
Under the tape, Michonne's muffled voice utters, "I'm gonna kill you."
"I'm pretty sure she said she's going to kill you, but she won't," Madeleine interjects, her tone resolute. The governor narrows his eye, a hint of suspicion in response to her words. "I will. Mark my words, Philip, my eyes will be the last you'll see."
The governor dryly chuckles, brushing off her threat. "No, you won't," he asserts confidently, his demeanor unwavering in the face of her determination.
Hershel's firm voice breaks the tension, addressing Madeleine with a pointed look, as if reprimanding her, before redirecting his attention to the governor. "You want the prison?"
The governor nods in confirmation. "Yeah. And I'll take it as peacefully as I can."
"Governor—," Hershel begins, only to be abruptly interrupted.
"Don't call me that," the governor interjects sharply.
Hershel persists, adopting a compassionate tone. "Your people, our people, we can find a way to live together. These people you need to keep alive, do you love them?" His empathetic gaze softens the air, prompting a scoff from Madeleine, earning her a knowing look from Hershel.
"You're a good man, Hershel. A better man than Rick," the governor acknowledges, attempting to highlight the differences between their approaches.
Leaning in closer, Hershel fixes a penetrating gaze on the governor. "Everything you've said, the way you've said it, you've changed. So has Rick."
"The two of us will never be able to live together. Michonne and I, we'll never be able to live together," the governor declares, his eyes sweeping over Madeleine, wondering if Andrea had divulged details about the women in their group.
Hershel stands firm in his resolve. "We'll find a way."
The governor's frustration boils over as he raises his voice, closing the distance between himself and Hershel. "I found a way! I'm trying hard. There's all kinds of ways I could do this. This way, you get to live, and I get to be..." His voice trails off, locking eyes with Hershel, the unspoken implications hanging heavily between them.
Annoyed by the conversation, the governor turns to leave but halts at Hershel's piercing words. "You say you want to take this prison as peacefully as possible. That means you'd be willing to hurt people to get it. My daughters would be there. That's who you'd be hurting. If you understand what it's like to have a daughter, then how can you threaten to kill someone else's?"
The governor shrugs indifferently. "Because they aren't mine."
"Captain Hook is right," Madeleine interjects, disregarding the looks exchanged between Hershel and herself. The governor grows curious about the woman as he shuts the door and approaches her. "We wouldn't be able to live with each other. He'd go to sleep, and I'd kill him. I'd say to sleep with one eye open, but..." She shoots him a wry smile, her demeanor unyielding.
"Now, what's your name, sweetheart?" the governor inquires, his curiosity piqued, seeking to learn more about the woman challenging him with such brazen resolve.
Madeleine glares at him, a mixture of anger and defiance in her eyes, before defiantly spitting in his direction. Enraged, he forcefully grabs her arm, yanking her from her seat. Despite Michonne and Hershel's attempts to intervene, he shoves them away, disregarding their protests. As he drags Madeleine toward the rear of the RV, he underestimates her, not realizing the strength in her tied-up form. With a sudden burst of determination, she bangs her head against his, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.
Seizing the opportunity, she aims a swift kick at his head, but he reacts quickly, grabbing her leg and throwing her down beside him. In the struggle, he inflicts a knife wound on her leg, causing her to grimace in pain as she falls to the ground.
"All I wanted was your name," he mutters as he gets close to her, the tension palpable in the confined space. He forcefully removes the knife from her leg, eliciting a groan from her.
In response, Madeleine, though in pain, hysterically laughs, "You're so dead."
"The scar..." He brushes her hair with his fingers, but she reacts swiftly, biting his hand. Reacting impulsively, he slaps her forcefully, causing her head to snap to the side. "Andrea spoke about a girl with a scar," he begins, closing the door to the back room. As she sits up against the wall, he continues, "She warned me about Mads, someone who's fearless and cunning, someone not easy to take down." The governor chuckles, kneeling in front of her, trying to intimidate as he digs his fingers in her wound, causing her to grit her teeth in pain, holding back a scream. "You're Rick's daughter."
"Nah, I am my mother's daughter." She retorts, lifting her feet up and kicking him between his legs, the man falling to the side in pain as she stands up. "You clearly don't know me well." She manages to knock him unconscious with a swift kick to the head.
She carefully retrieves the knife used against her, using it to free herself from the ropes binding her wrists. Despite the pain in her leg, she limps out of the room, relief evident on Michonne and Hershel's faces as she unties them. With determined steps, she returns to the room and secures the governor, ensuring he's restrained and muted with tape over his mouth.
"How are we getting out of here?" Michonne asks, assessing the situation.
"Not all of us," Madeleine responds, her gaze shifting to Hershel and his injured leg. "You need to go and warn them. I'll create a diversion."
Hershel protests, "But we can't leave you here alone."
"You don't have much time," Madeleine insists, a sense of urgency in her voice. "I'll buy you the time you need to get away. Trust me."
The tension between Michonne and Madeleine escalates, their eyes locking in a silent struggle. Michonne grips Madeleine's arms, trying to assert her point, but Madeleine refuses to yield.
"We can't leave you," Michonne argues, shaking her head, her concern evident.
"We don't have time for this. I'm his bargaining chip. He'd raze the grounds to get me back... you need to go. Now!" Madeleine insists, her tone commanding as she pushes Michonne out of the door. Turning to Hershel, she asserts, "Not you. Stay put. I'll be back."
Hershel tries to protest, "This isn't a wise choice, Mads."
"One of us won't make it out of here breathing," Madeleine admits gravely. She meets Hershel's gaze, a weighty acknowledgment passing between them. "If I trusted you could flee safely, I'd tell you to be the one to go."
With a heavy heart, Hershel lowers his gaze, understanding the gravity of the situation. As Michonne cautiously steps out of the RV, the sense of urgency hangs heavy in the air, and the weight of uncertainty lingers behind as Madeleine prepares for the impending confrontation, knowing the risks she's willing to take for the sake of her companions' survival.
Madeleine signals discreetly to the guard nearby, creeping up behind him and placing him in a chokehold until his body goes limp in her arms. She carefully lowers him to the ground, retrieving the rifle from his grasp. Turning to Michonne, she silently gestures for her to move towards the woods. Both women exchange a look, Michonne shaking her head as Madeleine pushes her toward the woods, noticing a little girl paint nearby.
Madeleine gently urges Michonne to rush away into the woods, guiding her with a reassuring touch before stepping over to the young girl. As Michonne hesitates, uncertain of what's to come, she watches Madeleine walk purposefully toward the little girl, Michonne crouching down behind one of the cars.
With graceful steps, Madeleine approaches the young girl who is engrossed in her painting. "You took your time. Look what I did," the girl remarks with a mix of eagerness and impatience. However, her smile fades as turns around to face Madeleine, causing her to lower the painting. "Who are you?" she asks, her curiosity tinged with a touch of caution.
"Hey! Back off or I'll shoot!" a voice cries out from behind, smirking slightly, Madeleine swiftly seizes the child's arm and presses the rifle against her head. "Don't! I won't hesitate," the women warns, her voice firm and resolute.
"We'll both end up dead!" Madeleine's eyes flicker toward Michonne, urging her to seize the opportunity and flee into the safety of the woods. As the others gather, pointing their guns at Madeleine, but she remains composed. "I'm shaking in my boots," she taunts, defiantly challenging the surrounding tension.
"Just... let her go, please. She's just a child," a woman pleads, her voice filled with desperation as she aims a gun at Madeleine, her sister standing in support beside her. "Have some mercy. Do you not have a heart? Don't you have children of your own?"
"This is why I don't." Madeleine retorts sharply, crouching protectively behind the child as the others cautiously draw closer. "I wouldn't come any closer."
The tension thickens as demands for information pierce the air. "Where is he?" they press, their voices edged with urgency.
"He's alive." Madeleine responds, standing tall yet resigned with her arms up, acknowledging the need to give herself in. "Ah, shame! Seems I'm outnumbered." She states sarcastically, eyeing each one of them with a smirk. "But you can't kill me."
The escalating confrontation takes a perilous turn when a man brandishes his weapon, pressing it against the back of Madeleine's head. As her arms fall to her sides, he threatens, "Any last words?"
"I'm Rick's daughter," she retorts with a hint of defiance, a smirk playing on her lips as the man secures her, tying her hands behind her back. "I knew you'd like me better if you knew."
Meanwhile, Maggie's face lights up with a tender smile as she notices Glenn beginning to stir. He murmurs something softly, prompting a small chuckle from Maggie as she affectionately brushes his face.
"You know, our anniversary is coming up," Glenn points out, holding Maggie's hands as he smiles up at her.
"It is?" she responds, a smile playing on her lips.
"One of these days," he quips, eliciting another chuckle from Maggie. "Where's Mads? Don't tell me she threw a party and didn't invite me."
"She went on a run; she should be back in a few hours," Maggie informs him, gently placing her hand on his cheek. "She really cares about you. You should've seen her... she helped make sure you and Sasha got your meds. I've never seen her that way," Maggie adds, the last sentence spoken more to herself than to Glenn.
"She has a heart, she just doesn't like it," Glenn points out weakly, managing a wink. "Where should we go?"
"Ever been to Amicalola Falls? Tallest waterfall in Georgia," Maggie asks, and Glenn shakes his head in response. "My dad took me there when I was little. When we were up there, all the way at the top looking down, I felt like I was flying," she reminisces with a smile at the cherished memory.
"I'll go load up the station wagon," Glenn says with a hint of humor, prompting laughter from Maggie as she embraces him. "It's going to be the most romantic date you'll go on. Where's your dad?"
"He went with Mads and Michonne. Let me fetch you some water," Maggie reassures Glenn with a tender kiss on his forehead, a flicker of concern softening her gaze before she steps out of the cell. As she exits, she catches a glimpse of Daryl and Rick locked in a heated discussion, their voices carrying a weight of apprehension and tension. Deciding not to intrude, Maggie moves on, her focus intent on ensuring Glenn's comfort.
"Should've been back by now! All of 'em! It ain't that far, up north," Daryl's agitation is palpable, laced with worry about the recent excursion Madeleine embarked upon.
"They had to deal with the bodies, don't forget," Rick rationalizes, his hand casually resting on his hip, attempting to bring logic to the situation.
"If anything happens to her, if there's even a scratch on her, if she went after the governor and he so much as whispers her name... it's on you," Daryl asserts sharply, jabbing his finger into Rick's chest, his features etched with fury. "I'll be coming after you next!" With a resolute tone, Daryl strides away from Rick, leaving an air thick with tension lingering in the wake of his departure.
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The group congregates outside, their attention instantly drawn to the sight of a tank slowly approaching the prison, trailed by a convoy of six cars, all bearing the governor's emblem and brimming with armed individuals. Tension thickens in the air as the ominous procession nears the prison.
The governor steps out of the leading vehicle, his expression smug and arrogant, exuding confidence as he arrogantly extends his arms in a taunting gesture, inviting confrontation with a 'come and get it' demeanor. The formidable display of force and his cocksure attitude sends a wave of unease through the group, their faces etched with a mix of concern and readiness for the impending confrontation.
The governor calls out, "Rick! Come down here. We need to talk."
Rick and the group watch them for a second before Rick calls back, "It's not up to me. There's a council now. They run this place."
"Is Hershel on the council?" The governor asks and they watch carefully as one of the people drags Hershel out of the car, Maggie covering her mouth in horror at the sight of her father. "What about Michonne? Is she on the council, too?" He adds, another person dragging Michonne out and kneeling her down beside Hershel. "You know, she nearly escaped me; we just caught up with her."
Rick shakes his head, and Daryl's heart drops as Rick speaks, "I don't make decisions anymore."
Daryl takes a step toward the fence, placing his hands on it. "I shouldn't have let her go," he mutters to himself, turning his head to face Rick. "I told you, man."
"You're making the decisions today, Rick. Come down here. Wait, where is your sweet devil daughter? Come out, come out, wherever you are!" The governor's taunting voice echoes across the desolate landscape, punctuated by the sight of a woman marching purposefully toward the boot of the car. With a harsh yank, she drags Madeleine out by her tangled hair, the young girl's face bearing the marks of a brutal struggle.
Daryl's rage surges, visible in the trembling of his clenched fists, as the governor forces Madeleine down on her knees, positioning her between Hershel and Michonne. "Son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you," Daryl seethes, his voice a growl laden with the weight of his fury.
"Not if I kill her first," the governor retorts, his words laced with a chilling resolve.
Rick's heart sinks, torn between the escalating threat and the desperation to protect his daughter. With a trembling hand held out in a plea for mercy, his gaze locks on Madeleine's empty eyes. "Let's... Let's have that talk. Don't hurt them!" His voice quivers, a fragile plea in the face of impending danger.
Rick advances closer to them, his focus unwavering on Madeleine, who meets his gaze with no emotion in them. Daryl stands nearby, positioned protectively close to Carl, his heart heavy with the anguish of finding a way to rescue her.
Carl's voice breaks the tense air. "We can do this. We can take 'em all on."
Daryl shakes his head solemnly. "We can't. We'll go through the admin building, through the woods like we planned. She knows the plan. We just ain't got the numbers no more." He turns toward the rest of the group, while Rick steadily moves closer to The governor. "When's the last time someone checked the stash on the bus?"
Sasha shrugs, her voice tinged with concern. "Day before we hit the Big Spot. We were running low on rations then. We're lower now."
Daryl sighs, his gaze returning to Madeleine, whose labored breathing reflects the severity of her injuries from the governor's brutal assault.
"Yeah, we'll manage. Things go south, everyone heads for that bus. Let everybody know," Daryl asserts, finally locking eyes with Madeleine, who shakes her head at him, prompting a narrowed glance from him.
"What if everybody doesn't know when things go bad? How long do we wait?" Tyreese questions, his grip tightening on the gun in his hands.
"As long as we can," Daryl states firmly.
"What about Mads? And Michonne and Hershel?" Carl's voice trembles with anguish at the sight of his sister's suffering.
Daryl looks down at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I won't let him hurt your sister, okay? I'm going to save her, but you know her... she'll end up being the one saving us."
"She can't die."
"She won't. She's too stubborn to die." Daryl averts his gaze, watching the governor loom behind her with a knife at her neck, forcibly yanking a chunk of her hair. "She won't die."
"Let 'em go right now. I'll stay down here. Talk as long as you want. But you let 'em go. You got a tank. You don't need hostages," Rick pleads with the governor, his gaze never leaving his daughter's injured state.
"I do. Especially your daughter." The governor removes the knife from her neck, forcefully pushing her to the ground while locking eyes with Rick. "This is just to show you I'm serious. Not to blast a hole in our new home. You and your people, you have till sundown to get out of here or they die."
Rick shakes his head, desperation etched on his face. "Doesn't have to go down this way."
The governor smirks, his hand resting on his hip. "I got more people, more firepower." He pauses, his gaze cold and calculating. "We need this prison. There it is. It's not about the past. It's about right now."
"There are children here. Some of them are sick. They won't survive," Rick pleads with a sense of urgency.
The governor shrugs, scanning his assembled followers. "I have a tank. And I'm letting you walk away from here. What else is there to talk about?" His indifference sends a shiver down the spines of those present, highlighting the dire stakes of the moment.
Daryl takes charge, distributing guns to the group standing by the fence, their resolve steeled to defend the prison and buy precious time for Rick to secure Michonne, Madeleine, and Hershel to safety.
"I could shoot you all. You'd all shoot back. I know that. But we'll win and you'll be dead. All of you," the governor coldly asserts, his threat hanging heavily in the air as Daryl passes a firearm to Maggie and Beth, their distress evident in their expressions.
"Doesn't have to be like that," Rick interjects, hoping for a resolution that avoids bloodshed.
The governor shrugs, his demeanor unmoved. "Like I said, it's your choice." His indifferent tone underlines the gravity of the situation, leaving the weight of the decision on those facing an impossible choice between surrender and a fight for survival.
A walker approaches nearby, and the governor swiftly dispatches it with his gun. One after another, walkers converge from various directions. Hershel startles at the sound of gunfire, while Michonne keeps a vigilant watch over Madeleine, who slowly starts to sit up.
"Noise will only draw more of them over. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to get out of here," the governor points out, his tone edged with urgency.
Carl and Daryl level their guns directly at the governor's head, torn between the impulse to pull the trigger and the desire to witness The governor's slow demise.
"We got to do something," Carl insists.
Daryl shakes his head grimly. "Your dad's got it. They're talking."
"But we could kill the Governor right now," Carl argues back.
"From yards?" Daryl questions.
Carl nods with certainty. "I'm a good shot. Everything I know, I learned it from her. I could end this right now."
Daryl shakes his head, sharing a knowing look with Carl. "Yeah, or you could start something else. Your sister is standing right in front of him, he could kill her. You gotta trust your father."
"Promise me!" Carl's plea carries the weight of desperation.
"What?"
"Promise me she won't get hurt. You'll die before you let her die!" Carl's eyes brim with emotion, seeking reassurance from Daryl, who nods with unwavering determination.
"I promise," Daryl affirms, his gaze firm with the resolve to protect Madeleine at any cost.
"You got maybe about an hour of sunlight left. I suggest you start packing. The longer you wait, the harder it's gonna be for you to get out of here," the governor states, his eyes fixated on Madeleine as she seats herself, a smirk playing on his lips.
"We can all- we can all live together. There's enough room for all of us. More than enough," Rick proposes, his voice faltering with the fear of endangering his daughter's life.
The governor shakes his head, gesturing toward his people. "But I don't think my family would sleep well knowing that you were under the same roof."
"We'd live in different cell blocks. We'd never have to see each other until we're all ready," Rick suggests, glancing at Hershel, who silently signals his agreement.
Hershel meets the governor's gaze over his shoulder. "It could work. You know it could."
"It could've. But it can't. Not after Woodbury. Not after Andrea," the governor replies, his resolve unyielding.
"Look, I'm not saying it's gonna be easy. Fact is, it's gonna be a hell of a lot harder than standing here shooting at each other. But I don't think we have a choice," Rick argues, attempting to find common ground.
"We don't. You do."
"We're not leaving. You try and force us, we'll fight back. Like you said, the guns will just bring more of them out. They'll take down the fences. Without the fences, this place is worthless. Now, we can all live in the prison or none of us can."
The governor seizes Michonne's katana and moves to stand beside Hershel, causing Madeleine and Michonne to exchange concerned glances, seeking a way to avert the impending danger.
"We'll fix the damn fences," the governor declares, holding the katana menacingly close to Hershel's neck, yet Madeleine remains resolutely averted from the man kneeling beside her.
Rick points at one of the governor's followers. "You. You in the ponytails. Is this what you want? Is this what any of you want?"
"What we want is what you got. Period. Time for you to leave, asshole," one of the governor's people retorts.
"Look, I fought him before. And after, we took in his old friends. They've become leaders in what we have here. Now you put down your weapon, walk through those gates... you're one of us. We let go of all of it, and nobody dies. Everyone who's alive right now. Everyone who's made it this far. We've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. But we can still come back. We're not too far gone. We get to come back. I know... we all can change." Rick's impassioned plea resonates through the tense standoff, echoing a plea for redemption amidst the impending threat of violence.
The tension reaches a crescendo as the governor spits out, "Liar."
Time seems to halt for everyone within the group and the prison as the governor raises the katana, swiftly slashing it down, severing Hershel's neck. Maggie and Beth's anguished screams pierce the air as chaos erupts—everyone opens fire on the governor and his soldiers.
"No!" Rick's desperate cry echoes across the battleground.
Rick rushes forward, firing at the governor, hitting him in the arm, but he is shot back in the struggle.
"Mads! Mads, move!" Michonne's frantic shouts cut through the chaos.
Madeleine and Michonne react swiftly, rolling behind cover and untying each other with urgency. Madeleine spots an approaching man and trips him, while Michonne swiftly disarms him. The tank lumbers menacingly through the prison, the chaos intensifying with each passing moment.
Daryl's voice cuts through the cacophony of gunfire, shouting desperately, "Can you see Mads?! CAN ANYONE SEE HER?!"
Amidst the chaos, Madeleine swiftly maneuvers behind one of the guards, using a makeshift rope to incapacitate and kill him. Retrieving her sword, she dispatches another assailant, driving the blade through his head. With a nod exchanged between her and Michonne, they work in tandem, taking down a couple of soldiers before parting ways. Michonne's attention snaps to the governor attacking Rick. She rushes forward, wielding her katana, and swiftly pierces the man's chest, bringing a swift end to the violent confrontation.
Amidst the chaos and desperation, Rick's bewildered expression shows his concern. "Where's Carl? Where's Mads? Is she alive?"
Michonne nods reassuringly, scanning the area, unaware of Madeleine's presence behind her. "She's alive. Come on, we have to go. She'll meet us."
Madeleine continues fighting her way through the mayhem, using her sword to cut down both soldiers and walkers, trying desperately to reach the prison grounds to find her people. However, despite her efforts, she struggles to make it inside the yard.
"Carl!!!" Madeleine calls out, her voice filled with urgency and panic.
Her progress is halted as she comes face to face with one of the soldiers. Meanwhile, Rick manages to find Carl just as the soldier locks eyes with Madeleine.
Desperately trying to appeal for her life, the women raises her hands. "I didn't mean for this to happen. Please, don't kill me. My daughter... she's dead."
"Then you won't be alone," Madeleine responds coldly.
Without a drop of guilt, Madeleine reacts swiftly, plunging her sword into the woman's stomach, a painful necessity in the midst of the harrowing conflict.
The woman, coughing up blood, locks eyes with Madeleine as the tank obliterates the prison. "Have mercy," she pleads.
"Okay," Madeleine responds solemnly.
Taking the woman's gun, Madeleine points it at her head, granting her a swift end to her suffering. As she turns, she hears a mocking laughter and spots the governor on the ground. Swiftly, she retrieves her sword and approaches him, noting the encroaching walkers.
Kneeling beside the governor, Madeleine places the gun inside his mouth, his laughter ringing in her ears. "I told you I'd kill you. So look me in the eyes, it's the last pair you'll ever see," she declares with unwavering resolve as she shoves the gun in his mouth.
With a single pull of the trigger, she ends his mockery, the gunshot echoing as his brains splatter, painting a grim scene of finality. Blood spatters on her face, marking the end of a dark chapter in the midst of chaos.
As chaos engulfs the prison, Madeleine, frantic and without any familiar faces in sight, begins to panic. Walkers have already overtaken the grounds, prompting her to act swiftly. Despite her bleeding leg wound, she presses forward with only her gun and sword, limping toward the woods where she recalls the spot she once shared with Daryl, Carl, and the group.
Acting on instinct, she dispatches an approaching walker, smearing its blood over herself to mask her scent, and collects its ears, tucking them away in her pockets for camouflage. As flames engulf nearly every building in the prison, she pushes onward, driven by desperation and a grim determination to survive.
Meanwhile, amidst the chaos, Beth rushes over to Daryl, the horror of the situation evident in her tear-filled eyes.
"I was trying to find the kids to get them on the bus," Beth explains, her voice laden with grief from the loss of her father.
"Did you see Mads anywhere? Where's Carl and Judith?" Daryl urgently questions, scanning the surroundings teeming with walkers and scattered bodies.
"I don't know," Beth replies, shaking her head, her distress palpable. "We gotta go, Daryl."
"I have to find her!" Daryl's heart weighs heavy with concern, his determination to locate Madeleine evident even amidst the smoke and flames surrounding them. As Beth drags him away from the burning prison, he turns back one last time, torn between the urgency of escape and the relentless pursuit to find Madeleine. With a heavy heart, he dashes out of the prison, the chaos and destruction now their haunting reality.
As Carl supports his father, both solemn and tearful at the painful loss of Madeleine and Judith, they exit the prison grounds. Their hearts heavy with grief, they step into the woods, each step a painful reminder of the loved ones they've lost. Refusing to look back, they harbor no hope of finding the rest of the group amidst the chaos and devastation.
"Just keep walking," Rick murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, the weight of the loss heavy on his shoulders. With tears in their eyes and a profound sense of desolation, father and son continue forward into the unknown, their journey marked by grief and an uncertain future.
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Dedicating this chapter to mojo232323
Thank you for reading ❤️