The convoy of joined communities barrels toward one of the Savior outposts, engines roaring as they approach their target. Madeleine wastes no time, unleashing a hail of bullets before the vehicles even come to a full stop. Her car continues its relentless advance toward another entrance, while Alita's piercing whistle signals the Reapers to action.
As Madeleine bursts out of the car, gunfire erupts from all sides, the air thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood. She takes aim with deadly precision, returning fire at the Saviors who dare to oppose them.
"Spread out!" she commands, her voice cutting through the chaos as her people fan out, securing every exit and entrance of the compound.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group maneuvers through the back, Keisha and Adanna leading the way. With guns blazing, they clear the front door, dispatching the armed guards with ruthless efficiency. Madeleine strides confidently into the building, flanked by Alita, Adanna, and Keisha, with Rick and Daryl providing cover at their backs. They move through the corridors with practiced precision, every step a calculated advance toward victory.
"You signal if they're already inside. We'll be there." Rick commands, his voice low but authoritative as he addresses Keisha and Adanna.
Both women nod in response as Madeleine and Alita step forward, exchanging a silent glance before moving in tandem, their movements calculated and purposeful. Keisha and Adanna break away from the group, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. Alita falls into step behind Madeleine, her posture tense with anticipation as they move deeper into the building, while Rick and Daryl share a nod of agreement before they too set off on their assigned task.
Entering a room, Alita gestures to the emptiness within. "Rooms been all clear, Death," she reports, her voice low but clear. They check every corner, every nook and cranny, but the sought-after guns remain elusive. Madeleine's jaw tightens in frustration as they open a broom closet, finding nothing but cleaning supplies. "Ain't on this floor," Alita concludes grimly, her eyes scanning the barren space.
"Only option is up," Madeleine decides, her voice firm and unwavering as she leads the way out of the room.
Rick and Daryl meet them in the hallway, their expressions mirroring their disappointment. Keisha and Adanna return, their faces drawn with tension as they too come up empty-handed.
"Nothing's here," Adanna reports.
"We go up. High ground," Madeleine proposes, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger as the others nod in agreement.
Daryl grunts in approval. "Good cover."
"Yeah, I'd put them up there, too," Rick concurs, his gaze flicking towards the looming structure ahead. "What do you say?"
Alita sighs, her hand gesturing towards the door at the far end of the corridor. "Stairs."
With Alita leading the way, the group proceeds cautiously, their senses on high alert for any sign of trouble. As they reach the closed door to the stairs, Daryl takes matters into his own hands, delivering a swift kick that sends the door flying open. Madeleine shares a silent exchange with her husband, a nod of understanding passing between them, before they ascend the staircase with purpose.
As they climb, the distant echoes of gunfire reach their ears, signaling that the other group has already made their move. Upon reaching the upper level, the group splits up, each member searching through rooms in search of the elusive cache of guns. They move with caution, their weapons drawn and senses heightened, ready for whatever may lie ahead.
Rick lets out a frustrated sigh as they reach the final floor of the building, his brows furrowing in consternation. "Last floor," he mutters, his voice heavy with disappointment.
"The guns have gotta be up here," Adanna counters, her tone firm and unwavering. She knows the Saviors well enough to understand their tactics, their penchant for secrecy. "They wouldn't have time to move all the guns back. Negan would be paranoid there were more of Death's people on their trail. He wouldn't risk it."
Daryl chimes in, mentioning Dwight who produced a rough sketch of the building layout. "He said they'd be here."
Alita nods in agreement, her eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor for any signs of danger. "It should be on this floor," she adds, her voice steady despite the tension thickening the air around them. "It's where the group I led at the sanctuary would keep them."
Rick arches an eyebrow at her, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. "Why didn't you tell us to begin with?" he questions, his voice edged with a hint of accusation.
"Because I wanted to give D the chance to prove himself to you," Alita retorts, her gaze meeting Rick's head-on, a defiant tilt to her chin, a stubborn resolve burning in her eyes as she stands her ground.
Daryl snorts beside her, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he listens to their exchange. "That guy's a piece of shit."
"Not to me."
"We split up again," Madeleine proposes, her voice carrying a sense of urgency as she addresses the group gathered before her. "Keisha and Adanna go North, Alita and Rick go South, Daryl and I will circle around." They nod in agreement, their expressions set with determination as they prepare to embark on their respective paths. Madeleine's gaze sweeps over her people, a flicker of concern shadowing her features. "Y'all be careful. They want you dead as much as us."
With a nod of understanding, Keisha and Adanna stride off, their guns held at the ready, poised to defend themselves against any threat that may arise. Meanwhile, Daryl casts a curious glance at Madeleine, a furrow forming between his brows as he silently ponders the changes he's observed in her. If he could, he'd offer her a loving smile, but he knows she'd have some quip about his own growth.
Rick's voice cuts through the contemplative silence, his tone tinged with a growing sense of unease. "Those guns get to the Sanctuary, they could cut through those walkers and free up an exit," he remarks, his eyes betraying the fear gnawing at his resolve.
Alita interrupts with a sharp command. "Less talking, more walking then," she declares, striding purposefully ahead.
Rick watches her go, a mixture of admiration and exasperation playing across his features before he turns to his daughter. "I think you've met your match," he murmurs under his breath, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he hastens to catch up with Alita.
"Let's go, old man," she quips, her tone teasing yet resolute as they move forward together.
As they navigate the dim corridors with caution, Rick lays out their plan. "We try to find the M2s, you find 'em, we use them, hit the courtyard right then and there," he instructs, his voice firm with determination.
Alita nods with unwavering confidence. "End this quick."
Her eyes narrow as she spots a distant figure, and without hesitation, she propels Rick out of harm's way and unleashes a barrage of gunfire upon the target. Rick stumbles back, a mixture of gratitude and surprise flickering across his features as he watches Alita.
"Circle the hall, wide, at least 5 feet from each other, Rick," Alita instructs, her voice firm and commanding as they cautiously advance down the corridor.
Rick furrows his brow, a hint of curiosity coloring his expression. "Were you in the military before this?" he inquires, his voice tinged with respect for Alita's combat prowess.
"Prison," Alita responds bluntly, her admission catching Rick off guard. "Following my family's legacy, I guess," she adds with a touch of bitterness, her past a shadow that looms over her present.
"Why?"
"Armed robbery," Alita confesses, her tone laced with dark humor as she casts a sidelong glance at Rick's gun. "You were a cop. Isn't this a certain type of irony?" she muses, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"I guess it is," Rick agrees with a solemn nod, his gaze thoughtful as he considers Alita's words. "Where are you from?"
"Everywhere, we'd move around a lot..." Alita's voice trails off, the weight of memories pressing down on her mind like a suffocating blanket. "I guess we'll do that again when I'm back home."
"How many walkers have you killed?"
"264," Alita responds matter-of-factly, her tone devoid of emotion as she recalls the countless encounters with the undead.
Rick's eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "You keep track?"
"Alive or dead, they were someone," Alita states firmly, her words carrying a pointed edge as they draw closer to the door.
"How many people have you killed?"
"54," Alita replies without hesitation, her gaze steady as she meets Rick's questioning stare.
"Why?"
"Because I was following orders," Alita admits, her voice tinged with a hint of remorse. "I guess I still am, but this time I want to do it because this war has to end for the blood to stop spilling."
Rick's jaw tightens, a silent testament to the weight of the world resting on his shoulders as he absorbs her words. "You think it will ever stop?" he asks, his voice heavy with resignation.
"It has to," Alita responds with conviction, her gaze unwavering as they approach the door.
They exchange a meaningful look, a silent understanding passing between them, before Alita reaches out to twist the doorknob. With a nod exchanged between them, they prepare to face whatever lies beyond. Meanwhile, on the other side of the building, Adanna and Keisha move with purpose, their guns held at the ready as they scour each room for any sign of danger or salvation.
"You sure we can do it? We can beat 'em?" Adanna's voice carries a hint of doubt as they burst into yet another room, their movements precise and calculated.
"What this group has done for us already, the things they've provided, what we've learned about them and the Alexandrians, the Kingdom, the Hilltopians coming together as one with us, reapers, what we've become after Negan, after Death... all of us," Keisha's voice is steady, her conviction unwavering as she speaks. She spots a wardrobe with a lock on it, signaling to Adanna to stand guard by the door as she moves to investigate. "Yes, I'm sure," she declares, her determination evident as she takes aim and fires, shattering the lock and revealing the cache of guns they've been searching for.
"You got it?"
Keisha's victorious smile illuminates her features as Adanna approaches, gathering a handful of guns and passing some to her companion. "You know, I've been thinking about it. Why we did what Negan asked and we wanted to end it. How easily we trusted Death."
Adanna's expression darkens, her brow furrowing in contemplation as she listens to Keisha's words. "You trust her?" she questions, her voice tinged with suspicion as she scrutinizes her friend's unwavering loyalty. The hypocrisy of their cause weighs heavily on her mind, casting doubt on their motivations. "We came here to kill them. We're supposed to. Doesn't it sound all too familiar?"
"Unless they surrend," Keisha counters, her tone firm as she meets Adanna's gaze head-on. "I know we know these people, but Negan can't keep winning. He took enough from us."
"So has she," Adanna retorts with a bitter scoff, her frustration evident in her voice. "We both know why you're really doing this, but Alita and I, it's a whole different story."
Keisha's eyebrows knit together in a display of defiance as she defends her allegiance. "She gave us the choice to walk away, she gave all of us our freedom. If you don't trust her, why are you still here?" Her words hang heavy in the air, challenging Adanna to confront her own doubts and uncertainties. "Why didn't you walk away?"
Adanna offers a slight shrug, her demeanor guarded as she carefully considers her response. "Guess I have some business to take care of first," she replies cryptically, her thoughts swirling with unresolved conflicts and hidden agendas.
Daryl and Madeleine stealthily navigate the corridors of the building, their senses heightened as they approach a corner to the north. With a silent signal, Daryl halts Madeleine's advance, his hand gripping her arm firmly as he gestures for her to remain quiet. Together, they tiptoe towards the first room they encounter, tension coiling in the air around them.
As they burst through the door, their weapons at the ready, they find the room empty. Madeleine steps forward cautiously, her eyes scanning the space for any hidden threats, while Daryl inspects the room more closely, checking for any concealed dangers as she had suggested. Satisfied that the room is clear, Madeleine moves on to the next one, her grip on her gun loosening slightly as she stands in the doorway.
Her breath catches in her throat as her gaze falls upon a figure in the room, the sight causing her heart to skip a beat. Daryl lowers his crossbow when he sees the same figure, his attention drawn to the toddler who watches them with wide eyes.
"What are we going to do?" Daryl's voice cuts through the tense silence, his concern evident as he regards the child.
Madeleine tears her gaze away from the toddler, her eyes focusing on the name scrawled on the wall beside the crib. "Gracie," she murmurs, the weight of the situation pressing down on her shoulders. "Leave her. We'll come back for her. We need to regroup," she decides, her tone firm despite the turmoil churning within her.
Daryl carefully sets the baby down, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches over the sleeping child. Madeleine averts her gaze, a tumult of emotions churning within her as she turns away before he can catch up to her. She strides purposefully towards Keisha and Adanna's area, her mind racing with thoughts of the day's events.
As she approaches, she notices both women hurrying towards them, their guns strapped securely to their backs. "You found it," Madeleine observes, a note of relief in her voice as she accepts the rifle Keisha offers her, her fingers curling around the familiar weapon.
"We did it, Death!" Keisha exclaims, her face alight with triumph as she hands a rifle to Madeleine and Daryl.
Daryl's voice breaks through the moment, drawing their attention. "Hey, I'm going to find Rick and Alita and bring them here. Stay here, okay?" he instructs, his tone firm but tinged with concern. The women nod in understanding, their eyes tracking his departure until he disappears from view.
Turning to face Adanna and Keisha, Madeleine's expression softens as she regards her companions. "Y'all did good today," she acknowledges, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.
Keisha maintains the victorious smile on her lips, her eyes shining with pride as she nods in agreement. Adanna, ever the silent observer, leans back against the wall, her expression unreadable as she listens intently.
"You can remind us when we're back home," Keisha remarks casually, her tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia.
"Home, yeah?" Madeleine muses, a wistful smile quirking the corners of her lips as she considers the concept.
"Yeah, home," Keisha affirms, her voice filled with longing for a sense of stability and belonging in their tumultuous world.
Madeleine's gaze lands on Adanna's rigid posture, and she tilts her head slightly as their eyes lock in a moment of silent acknowledgment. "The supplies you got for my sister, thank you," she says, her voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude.
Adanna responds with a nonchalant shrug, her indifference palpable. "You ask, we deliver, right?" she retorts, her tone bordering on dismissive as she turns away.
Meanwhile, Alita and Rick enter the room, their attention drawn to a picture on the wall. Rick's eyes linger on the image, while Alita's senses prick with unease, a faint click of a gun catching her attention from behind. Whirling around, she levels her own weapon at the intruder, her muscles tense and ready for action. Rick's gaze follows hers, his expression shifting from curiosity to wary alertness.
"Keep your gun down," Morales demands, his voice dripping with authority as he stands before them, a smirk playing on his lips. Reluctantly, both Alita and Rick lower their weapons, their eyes fixed on the newcomer. "Hi, Rick," Morales greets, his tone tinged with amusement. "Alitaaaa," he adds with a mocking sing-song lilt.
"I never liked you, now I know why," Alita mutters under her breath, her annoyance palpable as she and Rick exchange incredulous glances. Rick's eyes widen in recognition, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features. "You know him?"
"Your name... is Morales," Rick states calmly, his voice low but firm. "You were in Atlanta."
"That was a long time ago. It's over, Rick. I called the Saviors back," Morales informs, his voice heavy with the weight of their impending doom as he holds the radio aloft. Alita's jaw tightens with fury at the mention of the Saviors, her gaze burning with barely contained rage.
"And they're coming. For all of you and for the Reapers," Morales adds, his words like a death knell echoing through the room.
"Usually there's bullets flying and less talking," Alita interjects, her tone dripping with disdain as she locks eyes with Morales, her posture radiating defiance. "Does Negan want a certain amount of people alive? Let me guess the list... Rick, Daryl, Adanna, me, and Death."
"More or less," Morales replies with a nonchalant shrug, his gun leveled unwaveringly at their heads. "So, you're the Rick from Alexandria. Death is Mads, your daughter. The little heartless bitch lives up to her true name, I guess," he taunts, a cruel smirk twisting his lips.
"You called your men in for nothing. The fight's out there," Rick interjects, gesturing towards the outside world beyond the confines of their current standoff. "It's just me and her in here."
But Morales's gaze remains fixed on Rick, a deep-seated anger simmering beneath the surface as he confronts his former friend. "Did you hear what I just said? I know who you are," he seethes, his voice laced with contempt. "I saw it in the mirror through the open door. And it wasn't any kind of blast from the past. As soon as I saw you... I knew you'd made the same trip as me. From there to here."
Morales's anger boils over, his words dripping with venom as he levels a accusing finger at Rick. "Shit, well... Well, I guess we aren't the same guys we used to be, huh?" he sneers, his eyes blazing with hatred. "'Cause you're a monster, like her," he nods towards Alita, dismissing her presence as inconsequential.
"I called them back because you're a prize, Rick. We've been told. We don't kill you, Death, the Widow, or the King... not if we don't have to," Morales explains, his voice cold and calculating. Alita narrows her eyes at him, her fists clenched at her sides as she bristles with indignation.
"So why are you here, Rick?" Morales's tone shifts, his voice laced with curiosity. "I know you... Just like before. You're always the guy willing to rush in. But why? What is it you're looking for?"
Alita emits a low, irritated sound, her eyes rolling in exasperation. "If you're not going to shoot, I'm five seconds away from picking up that gun," she threatens, her voice dripping with defiance.
Morales tightens his grip on the gun, pressing it against her temple with a cold determination. "If you're willing to beg, I'll shoot you," he retorts, his words sharp and cutting.
The woman falls silent, her jaw clenched in a futile attempt to hold back her fear and anger. Meanwhile, Rick's mind races, formulating a plan even as he grapples with the moral dilemma of killing a man he once considered a friend.
"There's nothing to say, huh?" Morales continues, his voice heavy with resignation. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore." With a resigned shake of his head, he takes a step back, the barrel of the gun still pressed against Alita's head. "Not for you or anyone else you brought in here." His words hang in the air like a dark omen, the weight of impending danger palpable.
Alita exhales sharply, realizing only then that she had been holding her breath. The threat of violence looms heavy in the air, each moment fraught with tension as they stand on the precipice of uncertainty. "They're coming," Morales declares ominously, his voice a grim promise of retribution. "And we'll get you to Negan. Or we won't." His gaze flickers to Rick, a silent challenge passing between them. "Either way, we're gonna settle your shit, Peaches."
Rick swallows hard, the lump in his throat growing with each passing second. "Is your family here?" he ventures, his voice barely above a whisper, weighted with sorrow and regret.
"We never made it to Birmingham," Morales replies, his voice cracking with emotion as tears brim in his eyes. "They didn't."
"Well, I'm sorry," Rick's voice carries a weight of genuine remorse as he addresses Morales.
"Really, Rick?" Morales scoffs, his skepticism evident in his tone.
"I am. I lost people, too," Rick continues, his voice tinged with sorrow as he lists the names of those he's lost. "Lori. Shane. Andrea. T-Dog. Dale. Sophia. Glenn..." He pauses, the memory of Glenn's brutal death by Negan's hand causing a visible shudder to ripple through him. "Negan killed him. Forced him to his knees. Bashed his head in right in front of me. In front of his pregnant wife," Rick's voice trembles with emotion as he recounts the harrowing moment.
Morales appears momentarily taken aback by the mention of Glenn and the others. "He had a wife?" he queries, his confusion evident.
"Not before. He met her," Rick corrects him with a somber nod. "In this."
Alita interjects, seizing the opportunity to provide context. "She's the Widow," she adds, her gaze unwavering as she observes Morales closely.
Morales's grip on his gun loosens for a brief moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "Are you Negan, too?" he challenges, raising his weapon once more, the weight of his own losses evident in his voice.
"I lost my family," Morales asserts, his words laced with bitterness. "I lost my mind. I was in some... tow trailer, sleeping myself to death. Waiting to become nothing." He pauses, his gaze flickering with a mixture of resignation and defiance. "And the Saviors... Alita actually, she found me," he chuckles bitterly, the irony of the situation not lost on him. "They thought I was worth a damn. Worth bringing back with 'em. So, yeah. Yeah, I'm Negan."
"I thought I owed my life to him for the same reason, Morales," Alita's voice crackles with fury as she confronts the man, her words cutting through the tense air like a razor. "I saved you 'cause I had to. I wasn't alone, I didn't have a choice to let you go. Now, you know damn well this ain't it!" She takes a step closer, her eyes blazing with righteous anger, even as Morales levels his gun at her, a dangerous glint in his eye. Behind him, a shadowy figure looms ominously, unnoticed by the others.
"You wanted to be something, I get it," Alita continues, her voice dripping with scorn, "but you're just his little bitch."
"Just like you," Morales retorts, his tone dripping with venom.
Alita shakes her head defiantly. "Not anymore. We're not the same."
"How's that?" Morales challenges, his grip tightening on the gun.
"I'm still alive," Alita's voice is a defiant declaration, her gaze unwavering as she stares down her former ally.
But before Morales can respond, a sudden movement catches their attention. Daryl, silent and deadly as ever, materializes behind Morales, his bow drawn and ready. At Alita's subtle signal, he releases the arrow, and the deadly projectile finds its mark. The three of them watch in grim silence as Morales crumples to the ground, his lifeblood staining the cold concrete beneath him.
Daryl's eyes flicker briefly to Rick, a silent question lingering in the air between them. "You good?" he asks, his voice low and steady, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Rick struggles to find his words, his mind reeling from the sudden violence that has erupted before him. "That... t... that was..." he stammers, his voice trailing off as he grapples with the enormity of what has just transpired.
"I know who it was. It don't matter. Not one little bit," Rick declares with a grim determination, his voice tinged with resignation as he carefully removes the arrow from Morale's body. The metallic clang of the arrow hitting the ground echoes in the tense silence of the room. "We found the guns," he continues, his words heavy with significance. "Adanna and Keisha found a few hidden in a room."
A sudden flurry of activity outside interrupts Rick's words, the distant sound of gunfire piercing through the stillness. He pauses, his expression hardening as he listens intently. "He called the Saviors back from the courtyard," Rick mutters, his voice tight with urgency. "We gotta get out before..."
Before he can finish his sentence, a loud thud reverberates through the room, causing Rick, Alita, and Daryl to instinctively step away from the door. Their hearts pound in their chests as they ready their weapons, their senses heightened with adrenaline-fueled anticipation.
"They're here," Madeleine breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper as she stands alongside Adanna, Alita, and Keisha. "Get ready!"
Keisha mutters a curse under her breath, her grip tightening on her weapon as she prepares for the inevitable confrontation. "God! Didn't make it this far to die!" she exclaims, her voice filled with a mix of fear and defiance.
Madeleine's eyes dart around the room, assessing the situation with a cool, calculated gaze. "Adanna, we cover her," she orders, her voice steady despite the urgency of the moment. Adanna shoots her a slightly confused look, but nods in understanding. Madeleine's gaze then shifts to Keisha, who listens intently to her instructions. "You go North and head into the 5th room," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument as they prepare to face whatever threat awaits them.
Keisha's voice cuts through the tense air, breaking the silence like a sharp blade. "What's in the room?" she demands, her eyes darting between Madeleine and the shadowed entrance.
"A baby. Take it. Leave us behind if you have to, just protect her. Her name is Gracie," Madeleine's voice is firm, her words carrying a weight of urgency as she imparts the crucial information. Without hesitation, Keisha bolts into action, sprinting towards the room with a sense of purpose.
As Keisha disappears into the darkness, Adanna steps forward to take her place, her expression stoic and determined. "We kill them?" she seeks confirmation, her grip tightening on her weapon.
"If they shoot at us," Madeleine's response is unwavering, her resolve evident as she cocks her gun, preparing for whatever may come. Gunshots ring out from the other side of the building, a grim reminder of the perilous situation they find themselves in. "I know you don't trust me," Madeleine continues, her voice cutting through the chaos, "I know you knew them, but we both know you don't give a crap about killing them."
Adanna's eyes narrow at Madeleine's words, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. "Oh, really?" she challenges, her tone tinged with skepticism.
Madeleine nods slowly, her gaze steady as she meets Adanna's defiant stare. "They're not your people, the ones you tried to protect, right?" she probes, her words laden with implication. Adanna's silence speaks volumes, confirming Madeleine's suspicions. "Why didn't you walk away?" Madeleine presses, her voice soft but insistent.
"This ain't finished until he's buried," Adanna's response is curt, her jaw set in a determined line as she reaffirms her commitment to the cause.
Meanwhile, amidst the chaos of gunfire and tension, Daryl, Rick, and Alita continue their relentless assault on the saviors. Adanna and Madeleine move with purpose, closing in on their adversaries with calculated precision. As Daryl and Madeleine exchange a nod of understanding, a silent agreement passes between them. With Adanna and Rick covering their backs, they advance towards the saviors.
"There!"
The four of them dash towards the space Rick had pointed out, dodging bullets as they go. Madeleine tosses more ammunition to her father before handing Daryl an arrow she scavenged along the way. Adanna closes in on Alita, thrusting one of the last rifles into her hands. Without hesitation, Alita takes aim, firing a warning shot that sends a nearby enemy scrambling.
As chaos erupts around them, Madeleine and Daryl exchange a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. They keep shooting, their movements fluid and coordinated, until a hail of bullets forces them to retreat.
"I'm out," Daryl calls out over the din of gunfire.
"I'll cover you," Madeleine responds without hesitation.
Standing tall, Madeleine shields Daryl with her body as she fires at their attackers. Her father and Adanna provide covering fire, allowing them to advance to a new position. Madeleine seizes a fallen enemy's corpse, scavenging ammunition to replenish Daryl's dwindling supply.
Minutes tick by like an eternity as they hunker down, the sound of bullets whizzing past their heads a constant reminder of the danger they face. Suddenly, the gunfire ceases, replaced by an eerie silence that hangs heavy in the air. Peering cautiously from their cover, they watch as reinforcements arrive, their relief palpable.
"Teams of four, sweep the offices!" Aaron's voice cuts through the stillness, galvanizing them into action. With renewed determination, they join the fray, taking out the last remaining Saviors in a flurry of gunfire and righteous fury.
"Aaron!"
Madeleine's gaze flicks to Alita, a fleeting look of relief passing between them before they share a nod of acknowledgment. "We did it," Madeleine murmurs, her voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and triumph.
☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎
Rick's attention shifts to the baby cradled in Keisha's arms, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "She was inside?" he queries, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation.
Keisha nods solemnly, her eyes meeting Rick's with a steely resolve. "She was," she confirms, her grip tightening slightly on the bundle in her arms. "I got the guns, but it's not all of them that were supposed to be here. Maybe just three more of the ones we found," she explains, her voice tinged with frustration.
Rick's brow furrows in contemplation, his mind racing as he tries to piece together Negan's motives. "I have a... I have a stop to make," he begins, his voice trailing off as he considers his next move. "Daryl's got his bike, Mads was driving with him. Maybe she can go back with-"
Before Rick can finish his thought, Aaron's voice trembles with emotion as tears well up in his eyes. "She can go with me," he interjects, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can, uh, take her to the Hilltop. She'll be safe there. Eric and I were gonna go up..." His words falter as grief washes over him, memories of happier times threatening to overwhelm him. "We were gonna go there after and update Maggie. So... that's what I'm gonna do," he concludes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please. I have to."
Keisha nods in understanding, her heart aching for the man's loss as she carefully passes the baby into Aaron's waiting arms. "Be careful," she advises softly, her gaze lingering on the tiny bundle. "She gets fussy if you touch her head on the left side. Her name's Gracie."
Aaron nods solemnly, his expression a mixture of determination and sorrow as he cradles the baby close to his chest. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll take good care of her." Aaron smiles down at the baby, "Hey, Gracie."
"Alita, get to Alexandria, check on my sister. Make sure they've given her the meds already, please," Madeleine commands, her voice firm and authoritative. Alita nods in understanding, her gaze serious as she prepares to carry out the task entrusted to her.
As Adanna approaches with her head bowed, Madeleine's attention shifts to her, her eyes narrowing with determination. "You said you knew medicine when I asked you what to get. I want you to take charge in giving my sister what she needs. Anything else that's missing, you tell me, I'll find it," she instructs, her tone brooking no argument. Adanna meets her gaze evenly, a solemn expression on her face that catches Alita's attention, prompting a quizzical look from the seasoned survivor.
"What is it?" Madeleine demands, sensing a weight behind Adanna's words.
Adanna locks eyes with her, her voice carrying a note of regret. "What you really need, you won't find. Not in this world," she replies cryptically, causing Madeleine to avert her gaze, her jaw clenching with frustration. "I'm sorry," Adanna adds softly, the weight of their reality pressing heavily upon them all.
Madeleine bites down on her lip, suppressing a surge of emotion as she processes Adanna's words. "Just do what you can, please," she murmurs, her voice tinged with resignation and determination in equal measure.
She watches in silence as Adanna and Alita make their way to the waiting car with Keisha, the engine rumbling to life as they pull away and drive toward Alexandria. Left standing alone, Madeleine turns her attention to her husband and father, her expression hardening with resolve.
"You're gone too long, I'm gonna come lookin' for you," she warns her father, her finger pointed in admonition. He nods in understanding, a tacit acknowledgment of the dangerous game they're all playing. "You have until sunrise," she adds, her voice carrying a note of finality as she prepares to navigate the treacherous path ahead.
Rick nods in approval as Daryl drapes an arm over Madeleine's shoulder, the trio standing together in the aftermath of the chaotic encounter. Madeleine waves a farewell to the departing reapers before turning her attention back to her father.
"What?" she asks, confusion flickering in her eyes as she meets Rick's gaze.
"You ask them the questions," Rick declares, his voice firm with pride as he watches his daughter. Madeleine nods in understanding, a sense of satisfaction spreading across Rick's features. "I'm proud of you," he adds, a genuine smile gracing his lips as he looks upon his daughter.
Suddenly, the crack of gunfire shatters the moment, and Daryl instinctively moves to shield Madeleine from harm. She ducks behind him, her heart pounding in her chest as she scrambles for cover, her rifle just out of reach. Together, they huddle behind Daryl's bike, Rick taking refuge behind his truck as they assess the situation.
Rick raises his gun, scanning the surroundings for their unseen attacker, but they find no sign of their assailant. "Hey! Hey! You're alone," Rick calls out to the shooter, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "You got to be. There's not enough room for two of you behind that tree. And there's a herd coming. I'm just sayin'."
The only response is the rustle of leaves as their adversary remains hidden. Undeterred, Madeleine takes matters into her own hands, slipping around the edge of their makeshift barricade and slowly advancing towards the tree.
"Hey, I tell you what... we'll make you a deal," he calls out, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "You drop your gun and come on out... you tell us what we need to know. You do that, you can take a car. You go. You live. How about it?"
With steely determination, Madeleine levels her rifle against the wall beside the tree, her eye narrowed in focus as she takes aim. Beside her, Daryl mirrors her stance, his own weapon trained on the opposite side of the tree. Together, they stand as a united front, ready to confront whatever dangers may lie ahead.
"Why should I trust you?" The man's voice quivers from his hiding spot behind the tree, his fear palpable in the still air.
"'Cause I'm giving you my word," Rick calls back, his tone steady and unwavering. "There's not a lot that's worth much these days, but a man's word... that's got to mean something, right?" His daughter glances back at him, and he nods at her, a silent signal of reassurance, as she hovers her finger above the trigger.
"O-O-Okay," the man stammers, his resolve wavering as he steps cautiously from behind the tree, hands held up in a gesture of surrender.
Madeleine remains in her position, her eyes locked on the man as Rick and Daryl advance towards him. She keeps her aim steady, her finger twitching ever so slightly against the trigger, ready to act at a moment's notice.
"What do you wanna know?" The man's voice trembles as he lowers himself to his knees, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.
"You ever have any M2 Browning 50-caliber guns here?" Rick's voice cuts through the tension, his gaze piercing as he fixes his eyes on the man.
"We did. For a while," the man replies, his words rushed and breathless. "We only keep 7 rifles similar to the one she's aiming at my head right now." He gestures towards Madeleine, his eyes widening in realization as fear floods his expression. "You're Death," he breathes out, a desperate plea for mercy lacing his words. "They got sent to another outpost yesterday. It was Gavin's, it's west of here. Can I, uh... Can... Can I-?" His voice trails off, a silent plea hanging in the air as he awaits his fate.
Madeleine's finger tightens on the trigger, her hand steady as she levels the gun at the man's head. Without hesitation, she pulls the trigger, the deafening blast reverberating through the air as the bullet finds its mark. The man's body jerks with the impact, his unfinished words silenced forever as his lifeless form crumples to the ground. The two men beside him stare in shock at the sudden turn of events, their faces a mixture of disbelief and awe as they watch Madeleine approach.
As Madeleine strides forward, her expression remains unreadable, a mask of calm determination masking the storm raging within her. She meets her father's stunned gaze with a raised eyebrow, daring him to challenge her actions. Slowly, he begins to comprehend the gravity of the situation, his shock giving way to a sense of grim acceptance.
With practiced ease, Madeleine slings the rifle over her shoulder, the weight of it a comforting presence against her back. Without a backward glance, she heads towards her bike, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence that hangs in the air.
"Which team's at Gavin's?" she asks, her voice cool and composed despite the chaos unfolding around them.
Her father's shock fades away, replaced by a sense of grim determination as he moves to follow her. "Let's find out," he replies, his voice steady as he strides towards his car.