In the realm of emotions, anger takes center stage, an unyielding torrent that surges through the grieving heart. Every beat echoes with the pain of a wound that feels too deep to ever heal. Following closely in the footsteps of anger is sorrow, an overwhelming wave that crashes over the grieving heart. The ache becomes a haunting melody, the soul's lament for what once was.
As Madeleine stands alongside Sasha, they keenly observe the members of their group dispersing to their assigned positions, following the orders given for a comprehensive around-the-clock watch.
In the midst of this, Carl approaches his sister with an exuberant smile. "Missed me, Mads?" he grins, his optimism cutting through the tension.
Madeleine playfully scolds him while snatching the hat off his head. "Where the hell were you?" she teases, her tone laced with a playful reproach. She tousles his hair affectionately before carefully settling the hat back in its place. "I got here yesterday, and I didn't see you."
Carl looks down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. "I was with Enid."
Madeleine, seizing the opportunity, smiles playfully. "Oh yeah?"
"Don't," Carl asserts with a pointed expression, his teenage defiance evident. "I already have Esperanza teasing me about spending time with her; I don't need you to do the same."
"It's our job as your sisters," Madeleine counters, a playful glint in her eye. She notices the sly smile on Sasha's face, the woman recalling her own experiences when Tyreese met her first boyfriend. "Sasha and I are making sure the people on watch know what to do. You can help while Enid is nowhere in sight."
"Shut up!" Laughter ensues as they stroll around the community, Sasha following behind them. "Cool necklace." Carl gestures towards Madeleine's unique trinket dangling around her neck. "I feel like that's between him and you... hopefully, you'll tell the rest of us soon," he remarks, his tone a quiet whisper carrying an understanding that transcends spoken words.
In a hushed tone, Madeleine responds, maintaining the conversation from Sasha's ears. "I'm surprised you didn't notice it sooner, Esperanza did."
Carl counters with a knowing look, "And I'm surprised you didn't do it sooner." His gaze shifts downward, eventually settling on their sister. "Now, I think you're going to have to stop teasing me, and start doing it to her."
Amidst the collective effort to build the wall, Esperanza walks over to Freya, her hands carrying a bottle of water. The rhythmic sounds of construction form a backdrop as the two siblings observe them, their turn to keep watch on the walls still awaiting them.
Freya accepts the offered water bottle with a grateful smile, the cool condensation a refreshing contrast to the warmth of their labor. Taking a generous gulp, she relishes the momentary respite, and Esperanza stands alongside her, an unspoken camaraderie binding their shared efforts.
"You doing good?" Esperanza inquires, breaking the silence, handing back the half-empty bottle.
Freya nods, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a subtle grin playing on her lips. "Yeah, thanks for the water, Esperanza," she expresses, the words carrying a depth of appreciation for the small but meaningful gesture from her.
They share a prolonged moment of silent connection, their smiles mirroring the unspoken understanding between them. The intensity of their eye contact seems to create an invisible bond, neither willing to break the enchanting gaze. Eventually, Esperanza succumbs to a shy demeanor, looking away and scratching the back of her head.
"Do you need anything else?" Esperanza mumbles, her gaze avoiding Freya's, who finds amusement in the woman's bashfulness.
Freya lets out a light chuckle, gracefully rising from the ground and wiping her hands on her trousers. "That depends."
Esperanza furrows her brow. "On what?"
"If you want to have dinner at my house after we're finished with this," Freya suggests, her smile widening at the evident surprise in Esperanza's eyes. The shock is palpable, and Esperanza appears on the verge of choking on air, desperately avoiding any potential embarrassment.
"At—at your house?" Esperanza stammers, her disbelief resonating in her voice.
Freya maintains her composure, an air of casual confidence surrounding her. "That's what I said."
Esperanza, caught off guard by Freya's unexpected invitation, stammers through her response, the nodding of her head seemingly in sync with her uncertain words. "Yea-yeah. Sure! Yeah, that sounds good," she finally manages to articulate, albeit with a touch of awkwardness, "I'd love to."
"I'll come pick you up. Wear your best clothes." Her departure is marked by a nonchalant turn on her heel, striding away to secure additional supplies for the ongoing wall construction.
"Yeah, of course, clothes, I will," she calls out, a subtle hint of eagerness coloring her voice. As Freya pivots slightly to cast a brief backward glance, Esperanza waves with a grin, "Yeah, see ya."
Esperanza's gaze remains fixed on Freya's retreating figure, her lips still curved in a contented smile. She infectious warmth of the moment doesn't go unnoticed by Carl and Madeleine, who share a lighthearted laugh from their vantage point. Observing Esperanza's radiant demeanor, they exchange knowing glances as the girl walks away, her cheeks adorned with a rosy blush that hints at the lingering thrill of the unexpected encounter.
Carl tilts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can we tease her about it?"
Madeleine grins, her eyes lighting up. "Hell yeah!"
Amidst the banter, Madeleine's attention shifts, catching sight of a tense scene unfold—Glenn dragging Tara away from Nicholas, the girl locked in a heated argument. Maggie intervenes, attempting to calm the situation, raising suspicions in Madeleine's mind about the events that transpired during her absence.
"What is it, Mads?" Carl inquires, his curiosity piqued by the look in her eyes.
"Son of a bitch," Madeleine growls, a sudden surge of anger coursing through her when she pieces it together.
Without a word, she retrieves a knife from her waist and strides purposefully toward Nicholas. Carl and Sasha call out to her, their voices fading into the background as the red haze of rage blinds her to everything else. Meanwhile, Rick and Carol, engaged in conversation, notice the abrupt shift in Madeleine's demeanor and halt their discussion to witness the unfolding drama.
"What's going on?" Carol questions, seeking clarification as Carl and Sasha scramble to catch up with Madeleine, mirroring her determined strides.
As Carl's urgent cry pierces the air, the chaotic activity around Alexandria momentarily grinds to a halt. In a rush, Daryl and Rick rush over to Madeleine as she reaches Nicholas, her expression an amalgamation of anger and determination.
Nicholas, turning to face her, opens his mouth, but before he can utter a word, Madeleine delivers a forceful punch, sending him sprawling to the ground. Kneeling on his stomach, she raises a knife, pressing it against his neck with unwavering resolve.
"Hey, whatever is going on, we don't have time for this!" Rick demands, his authoritative voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.
"He killed Noah," Madeleine declares with a fierce intensity, her eyes locked onto Nicholas.
Glenn approaches, shaking his head in a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Madeleine's focus, however, remains fixed on Nicholas as she tightens her grip on the knife, the blade digging deeper into his throat. The spectacle draws the attention of everyone around, the unfolding scene triggering a sense of déjà vu for some.
As the tension escalates, Carl rushes over, his worry evident. Esperanza and Carol follow suit, joining the cluster around the unfolding drama. The collective gaze of the group is riveted on Madeleine and Nicholas, their breaths collectively held as they bear witness to a confrontation laden with unspoken history and lingering vendettas.
"Mads, don't do this," Carl pleads, desperation evident in his voice as he tries to prevent a grim repetition of the tragedy that befell her father. "Please, stop it!"
Daryl interjects with a sharp question, his words cutting through the tension like a double-edged blade. "He got Noah killed?"
"He did more than that. Ain't that right, Glenn?" Madeleine responds, her gaze unyielding as Nicholas struggles against the knife, wincing as blood traces a dark path down his throat. "One little move, and it'll slide your throat open. It'll leave a bit of a mess, but I'll happily clean your blood for what you did."
Rick shifts his attention toward Glenn, who exchanges a meaningful look with Maggie. She subtly shakes her head, silently communicating that she hadn't disclosed the truth to Madeleine about who was responsible for Noah's death. However, Glenn senses that Madeleine has likely pieced together the painful truth on her own.
"What did he do?" Rick presses, probing for answers amidst the charged atmosphere.
Maggie exhales, running a hand through her hair in a gesture of frustration and reluctance. "He lured Glenn into the woods and tried to kill him."
Esperanza's incredulous scoff echoes through the tense air. "What the hell?"
"Glenn told me I could tell everyone if that's what I wanted to do. I thought he deserved a second chance," Maggie explains, her voice a delicate attempt to navigate the volatile emotions in the room.
"Mads, don't do this," She attempts to place a comforting hand on Madeleine's shoulder, but Glenn intercepts, a silent plea in his eyes, aware of the storm of rage consuming his friend.
"Why the hell not? Why does he get to live over Noah?!" Madeleine's voice reverberates, a fierce accusation aimed at Nicholas, who bears the weight of her wrath with tearful resignation, closing his eyes in anticipation of the impending reckoning.
"Glenn saves people. Even people like that. I couldn't accept it either, but it's his choice," Maggie interjects, locking eyes with Madeleine, who clings fiercely to the knife, a tangible symbol of her turmoil. "Listen, you were a stranger dying in your dad's arms when I met you. Now, you're one of the most important people in my life. I need you to do the right thing."
Madeleine shifts her gaze toward Glenn, his response is a subtle shake of the head, a nonverbal cue that speaks volumes. Kneeling down beside her, he gently takes the knife from her hand. As Madeleine looks back down at Nicholas, a surge of frustration and indignation drives her to throw a punch at the man already crumpled on the ground. She glares down at Nicholas, who writhes in pain, and unapologetically spits at his fallen form before pivoting sharply on her heel.
Daryl intervenes as Glenn shows a readiness to follow Madeleine. A firm hand on Glenn's chest halts him in his tracks. "Don't," Daryl cautions, his tone a mix of wisdom and empathy. "She needs some space. Trust me."
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Seated in the somber stillness of the cemetery, Madeleine wrestles with a profound sorrow, wiping away a solitary tear. The burial ground holds a poignant significance, but there's an ache in her heart as Noah's body remains unvisited, left behind somewhere she cannot reach. The weight of his death presses heavily on her, an inexplicable grief that eclipses the others lost along the way.
For hours, she sits in silent contemplation, the completed wall looming nearby—both a physical barrier and a metaphorical boundary separating her from the past she can't escape. After her emotional outburst, the others granted her solitude, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Sasha, understanding the need for silence, took the watch alone, allowing Madeleine's grieving process.
Amidst the hushed moments, a voice cuts through the stillness. "I wish I had listened to you sooner. A lot of people wouldn't have been lost." Madeleine remains fixated on the empty grave she dug for Noah, her expression unreadable. "I'm sorry about your friend," Deanna's voice conveys a genuine sympathy, a shared understanding of the profound loss they've endured.
"Your husband didn't deserve to die either," Madeleine responds, her tone void of emotion. She remains huddled with her knees to her chest. "Noah liked him."
Deanna's weary sigh punctuates the solemn air as she settles beside Madeleine, both women silently gazing at the graves stretched out before them. The weight of loss hangs heavy, and Madeleine, seeking solace in the stillness, rests her head on her knees, reluctant to invite further conversation.
Breaking the hushed quiet, Deanna disrupts the serenity with a proposition that catches Madeleine off guard. "I want your father to lead these people. You should lead beside him," she declares, prompting Madeleine to lift her head with a quizzical expression. "One day, when he isn't here... when most of us won't be here anymore..."
"Nah," Madeleine rebuffs with a wry chuckle, shaking her head. "People don't like me, and I don't trust anyone. It just wouldn't work."
Deanna's gaze remains steady, her words carrying a hint of wisdom. "Maybe it's time you listen to what others have to say. You can't be the only one calling everyone's bullshit," she points out, a subtle smile playing on her lips as the two women lock eyes.
Madeleine shrugs, "It's what I'm good at."
"Bullshit," Deanna retorts, a shared chuckle escaping them, a subtle callback to a time when their interactions weren't mired in the complexities of survival.
Their laughter fades into the solemn air as Madeleine's gaze returns to the empty grave. Her fingers trace the bracelet adorning her wrist, a silent connection to him. "Not everyone deserves to live. I hope you see what we meant when we said to keep the gates closed."
The unspoken truth hangs heavy between them, a testament to the harsh realities they've faced. Deanna, after a moment of reflection, rises from the ground, looming over Madeleine. The younger woman looks up, her expression unwavering.
"I see it now," Deanna concedes, a newfound understanding etched on her features.
As she walks away, Madeleine's gaze shifts to Glenn, who strolls toward her. She rolls her eyes at his approach, wearied by the complexities of their intertwined lives.
Rising from the ground, she groans, "Not now, Glenn," attempting to sidestep him. However, Glenn steps in her path, blocking her way. "Move or I'll move you," she asserts, a firmness in her tone.
"Noah wouldn't have wanted you to kill him either," Glenn asserts, his words a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to navigate the shadows of revenge that threaten to consume her. "I did it for him. Look, I am really sorry. I know you cared about him," Glenn continues, his expression reflecting the internal struggle he grapples with.
"You do remember, I don't care," she declares, stepping dangerously close to Glenn, her words carrying a chilling edge. "If I want to kill someone, I will. You want to stop me, kill me first."
The implicit threat lingers in the air as she brushes her shoulders against Glenn's, leaving him in a state of silent contemplation.
As she walks away, her figure disappearing into the distance, Glenn exhales a heavy sigh. He turns to face Noah's grave, a profound sense of guilt etched across his features. The weight of responsibility for the life lost bears heavily on him. A complex dance of remorse and conviction plays out on his face before he turns away, silently acknowledging the tangled emotions that linger in the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal.
In the final stages of fortifying the wall, Freya and Esperanza find themselves entangled in a dance of flirty looks and accidental touches as they work side by side. However, their budding connection is abruptly interrupted by the urgent call from Rick, signaling the imminent threat of approaching walkers.
"Use your shovels. The guns will draw more," Rick's call echoes through the air, the tranquility dissipates, replaced by the unmistakable growls of walkers emerging from the surrounding woods.
In a swift response, Freya seizes a shovel from the ground, her swift movements positioning her at the forefront of the line. Beside her, Esperanza hesitates momentarily, the weight of the impending battle etched across her features.
"Help us."
"You can do this. You need to." Rick asserts, recognizing the necessity for everyone to practise.
The more seasoned fighters tactfully step back, creating a space for those less experienced to learn and grow amidst the impending threat.
Esperanza witnesses the intense battle against the encroaching walkers. Freya, engrossed in combat, remains oblivious to the looming threat creeping up behind her. Esperanza swiftly draws the knife from her waist, sprinting toward Freya with purpose.
With practiced precision, she hurls the knife, its trajectory unerring as it pierces the walker's head, freeing Freya from the impending danger. Simultaneously, Esperanza executes a swift kick, toppling another walker to the ground. The fallen creature claws desperately at her feet, prompting Freya to turn toward the unexpected intervention.
Not missing a beat, Esperanza decisively stomps on the grasping walker's head, ensuring it poses no further threat. Yet, the growl of another walker pierces the air, and with a forceful shove, Esperanza propels Freya out of harm's way just in time. Her agility shines as she executes a powerful kick to the walker's head, buying a moment to retrieve Freya's shovel from the ground.
She drives the shovel through the head of the approaching walker, neutralizing the threat, and as Freya catches her breath, Esperanza scans their surroundings with a vigilant gaze.
"Wow," Freya breathes out as Esperanza turns around and hands the shovel back to her. "You looked like a ninja fighting them off."
Esperanza, attempting to downplay her prowess, mumbles, "It was nothing." She moves to walk away, but Freya, fueled by curiosity, follows after her with an inquisitive gleam in her eyes.
"Nothing? Were you in the military before? Secret agent, FBI, CIA?" Freya fires off questions, fascinated by the skill with which Esperanza dispatched the walkers. The fluidity of her movements suggests training that goes beyond the ordinary. "Dad taught me how to shoot when I was young, we'd hunt together. Safe to say, he wanted a boy," Freya attempts to joke, trying to lighten the mood.
Esperanza, not amused by the speculation, spins around and points a finger at Freya's face. "Listen, that was nothing. You saw nothing!" she exclaims, irritation evident in her glance. "I saved your ass, that's it."
Undeterred, Esperanza walks away, her eyes scanning the surroundings. She observes that everyone else has joined in on the fight, too preoccupied to notice the precise and efficient manner in which she took down the walkers. The chaos of the situation fades into the background as Esperanza grapples with the implications of her unspoken past, determined to keep it concealed from prying eyes.
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The Grimes woman enters the pantry, her presence commanding attention as her eyes lock onto a terrified Eugene, who is held at gunpoint. Carter shifts his focus toward Madeleine, but she remains unfazed, meeting his gaze with an unyielding expression.
"I'm taking this place back from your father and you and your people," Carter declares defiantly, his words echoing in the confined space.
He steps closer to Madeleine, his demeanor fraught with desperation. As Madeleine makes a subtle move, Carter tightens his grip on the gun, his hands trembling in fear.
A smirk plays on Madeleine's lips as she closes the distance, challenging Carter's resolve. "Go ahead," she taunts, her demeanor unshaken.
"What?" he stammers, caught off guard by Madeleine's words.
With each measured step, Madeleine closes in on Carter, the gun's cold barrel presses against her forehead. "Go ahead," she challenges, her voice steady, her gaze locked onto his, daring him to make his move. "At the end, we'll see who's still standing without a hole through their skull."
"What's going on here?" Daryl questions, entering the pantry with his crossbow pointed at the man.
Madeleine maintains her defiant stance, the smirk on her face challenging Carter to defy the implicit threat. "Peter pessimist thinks he can take Alexandria back from my father," she reveals, her words slicing through the silence.
Rick's arrival from behind Daryl intensifies the charged atmosphere, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and concern as he witnesses the gun aimed at his daughter's head. "That's what you were talking about in here?" he demands, his voice edged with a father's protective fury.
Tobin chimes in, "That's what he was talking about."
"See, I would have- I would have set up some lookouts. That would have been the smart thing-."
As Carter squeezes the trigger, Madeleine's instincts kick in. In a swift, practiced move, she grabs his hand holding the gun, her body instinctively ducking. His shot echoes through the air, missing its mark, just as Madeleine expertly slings him over her shoulder. The force of the maneuver forces Carter to relinquish his grip on the weapon, which clatters to the ground. As he crashes down, Madeleine secures his arm, and with calculated precision, she twists it, a bone-chilling snap punctuating the chaotic scene. The man's anguished scream pierces through the air, leaving a disoriented hush among the onlookers.
Rick reacts swiftly, drawing a gun from his waist and pointing it directly at the fallen Carter. Daryl, not one to be outdone, maintains a firm aim with his crossbow, creating a tableau of tense confrontation.
Madeleine leans down, releasing her grip on Carter. "I warned you," she declares, a mixture of defiance and authority in her tone.
Rick steps forward, his voice a thunderous proclamation, addressing Carter with fierce determination. "You really think you're gonna take this community from us? From Madeleine? Glenn? From Michonne? From Daryl? From me? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"
"It was just me." Carter mumbles.
Rick narrows his eyes, "What?"
"It was-- it was just me. Just-- just kill me."
"Rick." Daryl calls out.
"I'm good," Rick declares, returning the gun to his waist as his gaze shifts toward his daughter. "Mads?"
"I'm good," Madeleine replies, before distancing herself from the intense scene as she walks away.
Observing Michonne outside with a perplexed expression, Madeleine shakes her head at her before the two women walk down the desolate street together.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"I'm okay. You're okay. This is going to be... okay." As they stroll, a pregnant pause settles over them until Michonne breaks it. "I'm worried about you. What you did... with Nicholas..."
"It was impulsive? Harsh?" Madeleine retorts with a disinterested expression, her nonchalance barely concealing the turmoil within.
"That's what your father did with Pete," Michonne corrects, prompting Madeleine to avert her gaze toward the ground. "You were right, even if you were here that day, nothing would've been different."
Madeleine's frustration bubbles to the surface. "You're speaking as if it's a bad thing?! You know what... a whole bunch of people should just die, but I'm not the Angel of Death, I guess. But, hey, one more day, right?" Her words cut through the air with a sharp edge, the weight of her anger palpable.
Michonne, sensing the intensity, lifts her hands in a gesture of defense and quietly walks away, leaving Madeleine alone with her conflicting emotions. She watches her leave, the tension between Michonne and Madeleine remains palpable, catching Rick's attention.
He approaches his daughter, a sense of confusion clouding his expression. The bond that once held Michonne and Madeleine close appears strained, a gradual distancing that troubles Rick.
A heavy sigh escapes Rick's lips. "Ever since you forgave me, I knew things wouldn't go back to how they were, but I wish you weren't as distant to me," he admits, acknowledging the lingering consequences of their tumultuous past. "I understand though. It's hard, I get it."Madeleine's eyes avert from Rick's. "It's just nice hearing you calling me your father again."
"Mistakes were made from both sides, maybe someday things will be back to how they were," Madeleine concedes, her voice a low murmur, still hesitant to meet her father's gaze. "Between us."
Rick's smile, though tinged with sadness, conveys a hope for reconciliation. "I'd like that. And whatever is going on, don't pull away. From them at least," he advises, expressing his concern. "Michonne, Glenn, your siblings, Daryl. They matter most to you, keep them close. Not everyone dies, Mads."
Madeleine's eyes seem to reflect a profound emptiness as she responds, "No, everyone eventually does," a somber conclusion that hangs in the air like a heavy cloud.
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"Remember what I taught you?"
Carl responds with a determined nod, his commitment evident in the set of his jaw. "Every day."
Following his sister's guidance, Carl positions the arrow on the bow, adopting the stance she meticulously instilled in him. His feet align, one in front of the other, as he raises the bow to his face. With a deep breath, he pulls the string back, letting it touch his lips before releasing the bowstring. The arrow sails through the air, finding its mark with a satisfying thud.
Impressed by her brother's progress and growth, Madeleine nods approvingly. "That was the best I've seen from you," she commends, a genuine smile gracing her lips.
As Carl hands her the bow, Madeleine takes her turn, showcasing her own proficiency with a fluid and effortless motion. The arrow finds its place on the tree, a testament to years of practice and honing her skills.
However, the playful atmosphere takes a turn as Madeleine's expression shifts to neutrality. Her eyes fixate on the target ahead, and with precision, she positions the arrow on the bow. In the blink of an eye, the arrow soars through the air, embedding itself in the tree. She turns to her brother, a teasing smirk playing on her lips, but the seriousness in Carl's expression prompts her to clench her jaw and avert her gaze.
Carl's voice resonates with a somber wisdom, a depth that comes from personal experience. "Listen, what you've done, what you're sitting with, it's going to stay for a while 'cause when mom died I just felt empty and sad and guilty," he confides, understanding the weight of grief that can linger long after the loss of a loved one, even someone you barely knew.
"Grief is a disease," Madeleine murmurs, her words carrying a heavy truth.
"I know what you did for Beth," Carl states, a revelation that makes Madeleine sharply turn her gaze towards him. "I get that you don't want to talk about it, especially with me. I get why you don't tell me a lot of things, but I've grown up. I can handle it."
Madeleine leans down and kisses the top of her brother's head, a silent acknowledgment of understanding and solidarity.
Esperanza, emerging from the house adorned in a dress, draws attention as she announces her departure. "Just meeting up with a friend," she reveals with a shy smile, casting a glance at the siblings.
Carl, ever the teasing younger brother, wiggles his eyebrows playfully. "Is that friend Freya?"
Esperanza casts an amused gaze at the two siblings, attempting to suppress their teasing expressions, though their efforts fall short. Striding over to them, Esperanza hands little Judith into Madeleine's waiting arms.
"Look, Judith, Esperanza has a crush on Freya," Madeleine playfully informs the toddler, entwining their hands. Judith, with a firm grip, seems to absorb the light-hearted banter, her wide eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and innocence. "Doesn't she?"
Carl lets out a theatrical sigh and pretends to check an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Be home by 8. I'll come pick you up!"
"I would say I hate you two," Esperanza chimes in, playfully pointing between the siblings, "but I wouldn't mean it, so I'll simply tell you to shut up."
"Now you know how I feel when you tease me about Enid," Carl counters, his words carrying a hint of sibling banter.
Esperanza smirks at Carl's remark, exchanging a knowing look with Madeleine before their attention shifts downward to the boy.
"No, not fai-."
Madeleine playfully nudges her brother's side, a teasing smirk dancing on her lips. "Come on, where are you taking her for your first date?"
"I can't stand you two!" Carl exclaims, shaking his head with a slight smile. "Judith better be on my side when she can speak."
Esperanza interjects with a mischievous grin, "I bet her first words are gonna be 'Is Carl dating Enid?'"
Carl chuckles and decides to make a strategic retreat, walking away while waving a hand dismissively. "I'm leaving."
Esperanza follows suit, calling back as she strolls in the opposite direction, "So am I! See you later."
Left alone with Judith, Madeleine looks down at her baby sister. Judith places her tiny hand on Madeleine's face, a gesture that warms her heart.
"I'll tell you all about them when you're grown," Madeleine murmurs to Judith, a tender smile playing on her lips. She brushes a few strands of hair from Judith's face, watching the babbling toddler with a mixture of affection and nostalgia. "There were a lot of people who took care of you, but you'll never meet. I'll make sure you know who they were."
"Hey."
Madeleine turns around at the familiar voice with a confused expression, "You're back already?"
"Your dad asked me to come get you. He wants you to see something with the herd," Glenn announces, and Madeleine sighs, her eyes tracking Carol's figure as she heads back towards the house.
Carol, catching the glance, approaches with a brisk stride and effortlessly takes the toddler from Madeleine's arms. "I'll take her, do what you gotta do."
A shared nod conveys understanding between the two women as Madeleine walks toward the open garage, Glenn following in her wake. The anticipation lingers, and Madeleine unveils the tarp covering the bike. Climbing onto it, she places the key in the ignition, Glenn observing her actions with a knowing smile.
"I'm sorry for being harsh, is that better? Just get on!" Madeleine groans, her tone a mix of frustration and determination as she fires up the bike.
"I wasn't looking for an apology. I know you. I know what you mean and what you don't," Glenn reassures, his voice carrying a depth of understanding born from their bond. "I know you're trying to push me away again, but it never works. You know why? 'Cause you're my person, I'll always be there." Madeleine meets his gaze, a slight smile playing on her lips. "I know you. And you should know I'm scared of bikes."
"Too bad, get on, pizza boy."
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The distant sound of rumbling reverberates through the air, a cacophony that cuts off Rick's words abruptly. As Glenn and Madeleine arrive on her bike, the woman skillfully maneuvers, swerving to a halt as she notices the ominous shift in the ground beneath the quarry. A moment of dread hangs heavy in the air, culminating in a catastrophic collapse that sends one of the trucks from the top cascading down with a horde of walkers in tow.
Glenn and Madeleine dismount from the bike, joining the group's watchful gaze.. Madeleine's eyes widen in response to the heart-stopping sight, a collective intake of breath lingering among the group.
They stand transfixed, as if caught in the slow-motion descent of the truck, until Madeleine snaps them back to reality with a commanding tone. "We've got to do this now!" she declares, her sense of urgency cutting through the stunned silence.
With swift determination, she grabs her sword and strides toward one of the walkers emerging from the chaos of the fallen trucks.
"Tobin's group, get moving, go!" Rick's authoritative command breaks the momentary paralysis, setting the group into motion.
People scramble to their positions, vehicles revving to life as the urgency of the situation unfolds before them. The plan, meticulously crafted and now set into motion, demands swift and decisive action. The atmosphere crackles with tension as each member of the group assumes their designated roles. Madeleine, her sword gleaming in the harsh daylight, skillfully dispatches walkers that breach the makeshift barriers. The rhythmic clash of metal against decaying flesh fills the air as the group works seamlessly to execute their plan amidst the chaos.
Glenn trails closely behind Madeleine, a knife hurtling through the air toward her. With practiced ease, she catches it, securing the blade at her waist—a borrowed weapon on this chaotic mission. "Don't die, dumbass," she quips, a mixture of banter and genuine concern laced in her words.
"Don't break the streak, dumbass," Glenn retorts, his tone reflecting both camaraderie and the gravity of their shared mission.
"You meet Daryl and Mads at red," he directs, his words slicing through the clamor. Abraham and Sasha promptly respond, maneuvering swiftly into their car, while Daryl stands poised with his crossbow, ready to navigate the onslaught of walkers emerging through the tractors. "Let him take them through the gauntlet," Rick adds, a calculated strategy in the face of the encroaching threat.
Sasha nods her head, "Yeah, we meet at red."
Madeleine, revving her bike, locks eyes with Sasha. "Go! We'll see you soon."
"We'll see you soon, Mads," Sasha calls back, swiftly joining Abraham in the car as he wastes no time driving away.
"Rick, I'll hit the tractor place." The urgency in Glenn's voice punctuates the air, seeking approval and coordination in the midst of turmoil.
Rick nods in affirmation, "Okay, who else?"
Amid the escalating tension, Daryl maintains his vigilance, crossbow poised as the walkers approach. The gauntlet awaits, and his focused demeanor hints at a readiness to confront the imminent threat head-on. The cacophony of groans and snarls reverberates through the air, a stark reminder of the perilous situation they find themselves in.
Nicholas's desperate plea reverberates through the tense air as Madeleine halts her bike beside the three men. "I'm here, let me help," he implores, his voice tinged with anxiety.
Glenn swiftly mounts the back of Madeleine's bike, his arms encircling her waist as he directs his stern gaze at Nicholas. "Do everything we say. Listen, she's never going to forgive you. She cared about him. Don't bother trying," Glenn asserts, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
Madeleine revs her bike, the engine's growl drowning out the pleas, as the two of them accelerate ahead, leaving Heath and Nicholas behind without a moment's hesitation.
As the bike speeds away, Heath and Nicholas exchange a fleeting glance, their determination set in sync as they set off in pursuit on foot. The knowledge that the tractor place is within reach fuels their urgency, propelling them forward through the unforgiving landscape.
"You all have your assignments. You know where to rendezvous. Daryl leads them out. Sasha and Abraham join him at the bottom of the hill. Glenn, Mads you hit us when you take care of the walkers at the tractor place. That's the one thing we gotta get ahead of. Mads will join her group after. Everybody keep your heads. Just keep up."
They hear Rick's voice through the radio as they arrive at the tractor place. The woman, her grip firm on the motorcycle's handlebars, smoothly unsheathes her sword and effortlessly dispatches the approaching walkers.
Sasha's voice crackles through the radio, a thread of tension in her words, "We're at red at the bottom of the hill."
Daryl's voice follows, rough and seasoned, "Alright, here comes the parade." His words carry the weariness of countless battles, the weight of survival etched in each syllable.
Parking the bike in front of the store, they share a silent exchange, a moment pregnant with unspoken understanding. The woman, a stoic figure with a hint of familiarity in her eyes, retrieves the radio from her waist.
With practiced ease, she brings it to her lips, the weight of the impending encounter hanging in the air. "We're here."
Glenn and Madeleine exchange glances, a silent understanding passing between them as the distant sounds of walkers inside the tractor place echo through the air. They make their way toward the door, anticipation building, only to notice the absence of Heath and Nicholas. A shared nod solidifies their decision to proceed without waiting.
Prepared for what lies beyond, Madeleine readies her sword, and Glenn gears up to open the door. However, their optimism wanes when they discover an unexpected barrier between the door and the ravenous walkers within. Frustration etches Glenn's face, and Madeleine can't help but roll her eyes at the unforeseen obstacle.
Nicholas arrives, visibly winded, accompanied by Heath, both having sprinted toward the store. Their arrival brings a momentary pause, and Heath, observing the agitated walkers behind the window, stresses, "This was supposed to be a dress rehearsal."
"I'm supposed to be delivering pizzas, man," Glenn points out with a hint of exasperation. He glances over at Madeleine, who seems lost in thought, sensing that her upcoming idea might not align with their preferred course of action.
Madeleine looks at Glenn, a slight smile playing on her lips. "We'll break the window."
Nicholas mumbles disapprovingly, "That's a bad idea."
"It's the only idea," Glenn points out, a note of urgency in his voice.
"I think there's something like a dozen in there," Nicholas counters, his hesitation palpable. Despite the reluctance, he can't offer a better alternative, leaving them with little choice.
Madeleine rolls her eyes at Nicholas's reluctance, a silent expression of disdain for his lack of initiative. "You get back and you stay back. Things go south, you tell Rick and you draw them away. Just move back," Glenn instructs, handing Heath a radio. "Mads, you ready?"
She smirks in response, a confident glint in her eyes as she wipes her sword on her sleeve. Twirling it in her hand, she readies herself to face the impending onslaught of walkers.
The shattering of glass resonates through the air as Glenn shoots the window, unleashing a horde of walkers. Madeleine tightens her grip on the sword, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. With practiced precision, she moves swiftly, dispatching the walkers one by one. Beside her, Glenn utilizes his gun, aiming to thin the ranks. However, the unexpected influx becomes apparent, prompting Glenn to notice Heath joining the fray.
The realization dawns on them—more walkers than anticipated.
Undeterred by the escalating threat, Madeleine whistles, drawing the attention of a cluster of walkers toward her. Patiently, she waits for them to align perfectly before executing a deft maneuver, taking out three walkers in a single, fluid motion.
"Mads, we're out!" Glenn rushes to her side, he grabs her arm, his gaze filled with determination. "Come on, I'm not leaving you."
"Take him." Madeleine calls out with a defiant smile, her eyes locked with Glenn's whose heart clench as she turns around to face the approaching dozen walkers. "Meet the Angel of Death, I guess."
Nicholas and Heath exchange a hesitant look, understanding the weight of Glenn's insistence. Ignoring Glenn's protests, they seize him and start dragging him away.
As Glenn is reluctantly pulled away, the distance between them grows and his voice becomes hoarse from calling out her name.
Madeleine becomes surrounded by the encroaching walkers, standing resolute like a lone figure in the sea of relentless undead. Each step toward her is met with a swift, calculated strike, her movements a deadly choreography in the macabre dance of survival.
☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎
Thank you for reading ❤️