The door opens to the car, revealing a black guy with a staff. Aaron and I fight with him, getting through the crowd of walkers and escaping to the gate. Aaron closes it once we're all through, and I shoot one more walker.

We back away from the chain link, my heart rate slowing down. We look to the man who just saved our asses. He watches us closely, wiping the blood off his staff.

"That was...that..." Aaron pants. "Thank you." He point between us. "I'm Aaron, this is Daryl."

"Morgan," he replies, smiling the tiniest bit.

"Why?" I ask.

He looks to me, still smiling lightly. "Why? Because all life is precious, Daryl."

We stare at each other. Something about him seems familiar, like a faint memory. I can't put my finger on it though.

"Whoever set that trap, they're coming," Aaron stammers. "But I have good news. We do. We have a community not too far from here. Walls, electricity, it's safe. If you'd like to come join us-"

"I thank you," Morgan interrupts. "But I'm on my way somewhere. Fact is, I'm lost, so if you could tell me where we are."

He hands me a map, and I take it. I unfold it a little, seeing a note scrawled across it that makes my mind spark.

Sorry, I was an asshole.
Come to Washington.
The new world's gonna need Rick Grimes.

I look up at him, then down at the map again.

This guy...the guy that Rick mentioned all but once. Rick owed a debt to a man and his little boy, that's why he needed the walkie talkie in the gun bag back in Atlanta. This is the guy, I know it. I've got a feeling.

"Small world," I grumble, quiet enough they can't hear.

Hope's POV

"Hope? Are you coming?" Elliot asks softly.

I shut my eyes, pressing my hand to my forehead. Lightning lays on the rug, and she lifts her furry black head when I move.

"I don't want to go," I whisper.

"Why not? They need your input."

"Daryl and Aaron have been gone for three days. I'm worried sick and stressed beyond relief," I say. "What good would it do for me to enter a debate about one of my group member's actions?"

Elliot purses his lips. "Well, how about we go and catch the end of the debate? You don't have to join in, but I think you should be there for Rick."

I take a deep breath. He's right.

"Ok. I'll go."

He places a hand on my shoulder. "I'm doing this because you're my friend, Hope. You realize that?"

I smile at the thought of him being my friend. "Yeah. Thanks Eli."

He smirks and nudges my arm with his elbow. "No problem, Hopey."

I groan. "I hate that nickname."

"Exactly." He laughs. "Now come on."

We head out of my house, Lightning following at our heels. She sniffs the ground, weaving on the path in front of us while we head for the council area. The night air is refreshing and cool, the soft glow of the debate circle fire leading us.

"And after being out there, and then not being how you were out there...it can drive you crazy," Michonne says as we walk in.

We take our seats near Eugene as Lightning curls up under Elliot's chair. I smile at him gently, and he returns it. To my surprise, neither Rick or Glenn have made an appearance tonight.

"Rick just wants his family to live. He wants all of you to live. Who he is is who you're gonna be...if you're lucky," she continues.

"Rick Grimes saved my life over and over," Carol says as she takes the stand. "There's terrifying people out there, and he rescued me from them. People like me, people like us, need people like him." She looks around at everyone. I grimace the tiniest bit at her obviously fake innocence routine. She wasn't lying when she said that these people are like children. "I know what happened last night was scary. I'm sure he's sorry for that. But maybe we should listen to what he was saying."

"Simply put, there is a vast ocean of shit you people don't know shit about," Abraham remarks bluntly. "Rick knows every fine grain of said shit and then some."

Maggie takes a turn next. "My father respected Rick Grimes. Rick is a father too. He's a man with a good heart who feels the things he does, the things he has to do. And all of us who were together before this place, no matter when we found each other, we're family now. Rick started that, and you won't stop it. You can't, and you don't want to." She looks right at Deanna. "This community, you people...that family...you want to be a part of it, too."

"Before we hear from anyone else, I..." Deanna starts. "I would like to share something in the spirit of transparency. Father Gabriel came to see me the day before yesterday and he said our new arrivals can't be trusted, that they were dangerous, that they would put themselves before this community. And not one day later, Rick seemed to demonstrate all the things Father Gabriel said. I had hoped Gabriel would be here tonight."

I fight back a noise of disgust growing in my throat. How could Gabriel do that to us?

"I don't see him here, Deanna," Jessie says. "So you're just saying what someone said. Did you tape him?"

"He's not here," I cut in.

"Neither is Rick," she retorts smoothly, glancing at me.

"Excuse me," Maggie mumbles, turning and leaving.

"I just want to keep my family safe. You know?" a tall man, named Tobin, adds. "And I don't even know what that means anymore, but if it means that we've got to get rid of-"

He's cut off as Rick appears, carrying a body on his shoulder. He throws it down near the fire, making the Alexandrian women gasp and step back. The dead body of the walker lays there in the flickering light as Rick looks back up at us, his face bloody again.

"There wasn't a guard on the gate. It was open," he tells us.

"I asked Gabriel to close it," Spencer, Deanna's other son, reports.

"Go." She jerks her head and he takes off.

"I didn't bring it in. It got inside on its own," Rick says. "They always will; the dead and the living, because we're in here. And the ones out there...they'll hunt us. They'll find us. They'll try to use us. They'll try to kill us. But we'll kill them. We'll survive. I'll show you how." He looks around at every one of us. "You know, I was thinking...I was thinking how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives? But I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna change. I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be. Luck runs out."

There's a long pause, and I see Pete appear in the gateway behind us, holding Michonne's sword.

"You're not one of us. You're not one of us!" he shouts.

Lightning growls and starts barking, but doesn't leave from her spot underneath Elliot's chair.

"Pete, you don't want to do this," Reggie says immediately, moving towards the alcoholic surgeon.

"Get the hell away from me, Reg," he hisses.

"Pete, just stop." The elderly man steps in front of him.

I place a hand on my knife as Elliot stands up. Lightning barks again, her teeth bared.

"Get away from me," Pete demands.

"Reg," Deanna warns. "Reg, not now."

"Get away. Get away!" Pete yells and slices the sword across Reggie's neck, sending him choking to the ground.

"No, no! Oh, no, no!" Deanna screams as Abraham tackles Pete. "Oh, God! Oh, my love."

"This is him!" Pete shouts from the ground, where Abraham pins him.

Deanna keeps crying as she holds Reg, who gurgles as the life drains out of him.

"Shut up!" Abraham commands.

"This is him!" Pete repeats.

"My love, my love," Deanna keeps wailing as her husband goes still. "No, my love, no. No, my love."

"It's him! This is him!"

Elliot and I stare at each other, and I look to Rick. Deanna looks up at him too, her gaze faintly murderous through the tears.

"Rick..." she says thickly. "Do it."

Without hesitation, Rick whips out his gun and shoots Pete in the head. Jessie and the other women scream, and Lightning growls low in her throat and keeps barking.

"Rick?" a new voice asks.

We look to the entrance, where Aaron, Daryl, and a black man stand. Rick and the new guy stare at each other in disbelief.

Lightning howls, breaking the frightened stillness of the night.

My mouth falls open, my heart flooding with relief at the sight of my husband. I stumble forwards and throw myself into Daryl's arms, holding back tears. My redneck encircles me in his embrace, burying his face in my neck as he lifts me onto my tiptoes.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm 'ere."

End of Book Two