[ xlvi. we'll do it live ]

august 13th, 2012

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ASTRID DIXON BLISTERED BENEATH the scorching summer rays that glared down on her, beads of sweat trickling down her brow, while she wrangled her chestnut mane into a tight ponytail. It had been a very long day spent traversing the rural outskirts of DC, following Rick's intricate directives. He had meticulously outlined the locations and strategies for the impending dry run, and they were finally nearing the last stop: the actual quarry infested with walkers.

The plan, when rehearsed in simulation, seemed straightforward enough to Astrid. Yet, this was just a trial run, a mere figment. In reality, when the chaos unfurled, who knew what would truly happen. More than once that day, Rick had attempted to reassure them all, but the specter of potential casualties still hung dangerously close. Even seasoned survivors like herself, Daryl, or Glenn might become a victim if someone else faltered and cowered out of action.

Amidst her steps, the Dixon woman's thoughts eventually strayed to little Bailey, imagining how she might have been keeping herself occupied. Just the night prior, the young girl had all but wept for Daryl and Astrid to stay behind, worried for their safety. But neither new parental figure could afford to sit this one out. Safeguarding Alexandria demanded their presence. Astrid was doing this to keep Bailey safe.

Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she crested the quarry road, but the sound was soon drowned out by groans emanating in the distance. Astrid was flanked by Daryl and Glenn, the trio trailing behind Rick, Michonne, and Morgan who led the way, followed by the rest of the volunteer cohort.

Then, Astrid turned her head the slightest fraction. And—as if a monstrous shadow suddenly ascended from the earth, she beheld an endless sea of walkers. Abruptly, she halted, eyes widening, at the behemoth quarry herd. Scores of undead bodies jostled together, hemmed in only by the blockade of two damaged semi-trucks.

"Holy shit," Astrid gasped. Her expletive was echoed by murmurs rippling through the Alexandrians behind her. Glancing back, she saw matching expressions of shock. Fortunately, before anyone voiced their fears aloud, Rick clambered onto one of their parked trucks and pivoted to address them.

"I know this sounds insane, but this is an insane world," He said, straining to be heard over the walker clamor. "We have to come for them before they come for us. It's that simple. This is where it all starts tomorrow." Rick proceeded to outline the plan. "Tobin gets in the truck, opens the exit, and we're off. He hops out, catches up with his team at the red balloons, staying on the west side of the road. Daryl gets on his bike—"

But Rick's finishing words were harshly silenced by the grinding of stone against stone and the eerie metallic groans as the long stationary barricade of the quarry shifted. Astrid's attention shifted back over Rick's shoulder, and her jaw almost grazed the ground in sheer terror.

Over on the quarry's farthest side, unnoticed by the Dixon woman earlier, stood another line of semi-trucks serving against the walkers. However, that defense was faltering. Astrid's heart pounded as the force of the walkers thrust the trucks toward the ravine's edge. Within moments, both vehicles careened off the cliff and crashed into the quarry's depths in an explosive heap. Instead of hindering the walkers, the crash unleashed them in a frenzy, the undead now pouring through the breach like a dam ruptured.

"Rick?" came Sasha's hesitant calling. She was seeking a new plan.

Shit. They all were now.

Rick turned back, eyes wide, and he leaped down from his vehicle. "It's open! We have to do this now!"

His decision turned Astrid's blood to ice. They were not prepared, had not even completed their first dry run. Her body trembled as Daryl instinctively reached out to her, anchoring her panic.

"We're doing this now!" Rick shouted. "Tobin's group, get moving, go!"

Pandemonium spread. Other Alexandrians darted to and fro, racing up the gravel path to their assigned stations. But Astrid remained frozen. How were they expected to do this? There was no possible way they could succeed. Not with so little experience. Soon, Carter's voice also cut through the franticness, his own protest echoing desperation. "No, Rick! We're not ready!"

Blatantly ignoring the man, Rick pressed on elsewhere, directing his dwindling forces. "Sasha, Abraham," He called. "You'll meet Daryl at red. Let him take them through the gauntlet."

The redheaded marine cocked the shotgun he had been holding loosely at his side. "Damn straight, we'll do it live!" He cried valiantly. How the hell was he excited? Before Astrid could even dare to question his madness, he turned to rally Sasha, and then the pair hurtled off, leaving behind a trail of dust.

"Rick, I'll hit the tractor place and make sure to deal with the walkers in there," Glenn announced as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. "We've got to take those ones out or they'll distract the herd."

"Who's going with?" Rick demanded.

"Heath and Nicholas will back me up!" Glenn answered, already motioning for the two named men to follow. "Let's go!"

Astrid watched the trio vanish up the quarry trail until they were swallowed by its rocky embrace. Elsewhere, Carter still waited. He bolted forward, confronting Rick head-on. "This was supposed to be a dry run!" He exclaimed. "We haven't even gone through the whole plan!"

"You want to go back, then go back," Rick all but growled. "The rest of us are finishing this." With that, he stalked away from Carter and closed in on Tobin, who was stationed behind the wheel of one of their own trucks. "Hit on my signal," He ordered. "They're heading for home. We don't have a choice."

"They're still coming!" Daryl reminded sharply. He pushed Astrid slightly backward, ensuring she was tucked safely behind him, before turning to face her directly. "I have to go."

Astrid nodded tightly. "Go," She reluctantly urged. "Be careful."

Her hunter pulled her into him, his lips briefly touching her temple before he moved on. He began to race toward his motorcycle and swung his leg over the seat. The engine roared to life as he sped up the dirt path, prepared to meet the horde that would eventually trail after him. And with Daryl now gone, Astrid refused to feel rattled any longer. Panic would do her no good. She was still capable of doing this.

As one of the few left standing on the quarry path, she sprinted toward Rick, who was retrieving a flare gun from his waistband. "I'm with you!" She yelled.

Rick acknowledged her with a nod. "Tobin, now!" He bellowed. A moment later, he fired a flare into the sky. Another followed from Michonne. In the ensuing commotion, Rick tugged Astrid backward as Tobin revved the truck's engine. With the barricade completely dislodged, a flood of walkers had now begun to surge their way. "Run!" Rick commanded. "Hurry! We need to catch up with the others!"

Sparing one last look around at the almost desolate scene behind her, Astrid marveled at the breakneck speed with which their group had dispersed, and the plan catapulted into action. Then, she finally turned, and she hurried uphill.

Astrid's mind whirled. Why could things never unfold smoothly? The plan had been gaining solid traction, everyone grasping their roles. But now, amid this growing madness and separation, who could ensure the follow-through, the adherence? In this mess, she could hardly blame anyone from Alexandria for potentially forgetting a part of the plan. Speaking of a rock in the road, she could only imagine what Carter was doing—bolting away or standing to fight? Time alone, she supposed, would reveal his choice when they all met at the finish line.

If they made it that far.

With her limbs propelling her forward, Astrid pushed herself faster. Sweat dripped down her body, and she grimaced in disgust, as she and Rick caught back up with Morgan and Michonne who had been waiting ahead.

"Let's move!" Michonne beckoned. "We've got to reach yellow before the herd does."

A deep breath steeled the small group as Rick assumed the lead. Astrid switched her grip from her pistol to the CB radio clipped to her shirt pocket. With a click of a small button, she held the device up to her mouth. "Daryl, do you copy?" She called.

Petrified silence seized her as static crackled. But then her hunter broke through the interference. "I'm here. Herd's followin'."

"Good. We're heading to yellow now. Stay safe," Astrid relayed.

"You too," Daryl's voice crackled again before the transmission faded.

Repocketing the CB, Astrid refocused on her running, determined to reach the makeshift wall ahead of Daryl. Veering off the gravel road, she and the others plunged into the nearby forest, navigating around gnarled roots and dense shrubbery. Time lost its definition amid the woodland sprint until they reemerged onto a familiar highway. Astrid now glimpsed the newly constructed wall just yards away. Slowing to a jog, she watched as Rick grasped his own CB, lips pressed to the device. "Glenn, you there yet?" He asked.

There was a brief pause. Then Glenn's response crackled in. "Almost. We'll have it handled before they get here, and we'll meet you at yellow."

"Copy that," Rick acknowledged.

Approaching the wall, large vehicles were strategically pressed against it, further fortifying the structure against the imminent herd. An RV adorned with a cluster of yellow balloons floating atop its roof marked the group of four's reached destination.

Morgan eyed the wall warily. "Do you think—"

"It'll hold," Rick's confident interruption cut through his old friend's unease, his nod only seeming to emphasize his belief.

Michonne's hands rested on her hips. "Well, that's good."

"Definitely," Astrid chimed in. She had also been scrutinizing the wall. "You know, considering where we're standing."

A stilled silence lingered as they all likely contemplated the catastrophic consequences if the wall faltered. Then, Morgan redirected them all with a lighter note. "Michonne," He began, turning toward her. "Back when you were in that place . . . Where I lived . . . Did you take one of my protein bars?"

Astrid stifled a chuckle. She could actually still recall Michonne's return from that specific supply run. Despite the levity, Michonne put on a feigned smile and shook her head. "No," She lied.

"Well, you see," Morgan continued, "I could have sworn there was one more peanut butter left."

Michonne only grinned. "That's how it is, isn't it?" She released a resigned sigh. "You always think there's one more peanut butter left."

Another moment passed. As the banter briefly lightened the tense atmosphere, Rick's patience only wore thinner. He abruptly raised the CB again. "Glenn, you need to hurry," He ushered. "The noise from the tractor place could distract the herd right off the road."

"I know, we're here," Glenn assured, rather quickly over the line. "We have it handled."

Suddenly, the growling hum of a motorcycle engine sounded, accompanied by the familiar guttural sounds of walkers. Astrid's heart skipped a beat. Daryl was on the other side of this barrier, accompanied only by Sasha, Abraham, and a horde of walkers. She felt overwhelming guilt. She should be on that side of the wall with him.

Michonne, seeming to notice Astrid's shift, gently laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He'll be fine," She said. "They know what they're doing."

Astrid clenched her jaw tightly, nodding in reluctant agreement. There was truly nothing she could do now, anyway. So, instead, she followed the next step of the plan and reached for the flare gun secured at her own waist. The others followed suit. She looked to Rick for further instruction, who simply nodded back at her, his command ringing out. "Go!"

Astrid aimed the orange gun skyward and fired. The lightning crack made her flinch as the flare streaked away. Its purpose was to divert the herd's attention back off the wall, but the sound of straining metal suggested their attempt might not even work.

Stowing the small gun once more, Astrid nervously approached the wall. Through a narrow gap, she observed as the walkers collided with the barrier, only to rebound and resume their march, forced onward by others. Their snarls echoed. She averted her eyes, only to find Rick's intent stare, as if measuring—waiting—to see when she might crack.

Only Astrid would not give him that satisfaction. She straightened her posture. "We need to keep moving if we're going to make it to the next checkpoint," She asserted firmly. "You ready?"

Rick still held her fierce gaze. What did he see? Then he slowly nodded. "Let's move," He decided.

He started toward the trees, Morgan and Michonne trailing closely behind. Astrid hesitated for a moment longer, peering back through the same gap in the metal, searching for Daryl. But amidst the ocean of undead, he could not be seen. All that lay before her now was an endless expanse of death, separated only by a single wall.

Exhaling a deep breath, Astrid finally pushed off the metal barrier and darted after the others who had already disappeared into the foliage, determined to finish the second half of the plan before the second half of the plan decided to finish them.

➸➸➸

ASTRID MOVED SWIFTLY THROUGH the trees at the very fringes of the forest, stealing a glance to her left to catch sight of the herd thundering alongside her, now mere yards away. Her small band had long forsaken the wall and were now immersed in the final stretch of their plan—shadowing the herd as it was skillfully directed from their vicinity, and ensuring no stragglers were forgotten along the way.

Looking through the thick congregation, Astrid recognized Tobin's group on the far other side of the road, navigating in tandem with the herd. Relief flooded her veins knowing that elsewhere, their strategy had really played out as intended. The Alexandrians were holding their own.

Abruptly, Rick whistled lowly, wrenching Astrid's attention to her right, where Glenn and his small group had joined them from the deeper woods. A smile danced upon her lips at the sight of her friend crossing over to join her side. "You alright?" She inquired, grasping his forearm warmly. "Did everything go okay?"

"It was smooth sailing," Glenn confirmed, returning her gesture with a squeeze to her shoulder.

Falling back into silence to evade detection from the walkers, they gravitated back toward Rick, who had congregated with the rest of the group. With Glenn to her left and Michonne to her right, Astrid tightly folded her arms across her chest, fixating her gaze on Rick, steering clear of the mass of the herd behind him.

Before he could speak, however, another figure stepped forth, and Astrid's eyes widened as she recognized Carter. Gone was the timidity that once dwelled in his eyes. In its stead, a newfound poise seemed to emanate from him. Extending a hand to Rick, he offered a genuine, albeit restrained, smile. "It's working," He acknowledged, his voice laced with deference. "You were right."

Rick clasped Carter's hand, dissolving the tension that had simmered between them. He then pivoted to address the assembly. "We need to finish this," He urged. "We have to keep moving and fan out the herd, front to back. Glenn, you take the back. You still got that walkie?"

Glenn brandished it. "Got it."

"All right. If the herd gets sloppy, we fire our weapons and pull them back on track," Rick elaborated.

"I'll hit the front," Carter volunteered.

Observing as Carter and Glenn branched off to their designated positions, Astrid cast a glance at Michonne, who seemed to intuit her thoughts, nodding resolutely. "We'll tail Carter," She announced. "You walk with him."

"Okay," Rick said. "One after the other."

Their leader then veered away, closing the gap to join forces with Carter directly. Meanwhile, keeping to their own orders, Astrid walked alongside Michonne, her attention never leaving the shuffling herd. Daryl could still not be seen in the distance ahead, but she clung to the belief that he was handling his part without a hitch. Still so tempted to reach for her CB radio, she hesitated again, reluctant to divert her hunter's focus. Each member had their own job to do right now.

So, instead, Astrid drew her firearm from her waistband to keep her hands busy. She mindlessly checked its ammo before stealing a glance at her friend. "You holding up?" She asked softly.

"Just ready to get this over with," Michonne replied, eyes locked on the blade of her katana.

"Surprising that everything seems to be falling into place," Astrid mused. "I expected more complications."

"Me too," Michonne admitted. "But let's not jinx ourselves."

As they pressed deeper into the trees, Astrid noticed a lone walker straying from the herd. Foregoing her pistol, she unsheathed her knife and swiftly drove her weapon through its skull before allowing the body to crumple at her feet. Wiping her blade clean, Astrid sheathed it once more and cast a glance behind to spot Glenn and the Alexandrians tailing them, ensuring no other disruptions impeded them.

Then a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air.

Astrid jolted to a standstill. Whipping around in alarm, she identified the source of the chilling sound ahead. Dread seized her; an Alexandrian might have fallen prey to an attack. But she could give it no further thought because, to her left, she now noticed walkers from the herd beginning to migrate, drawn away from the highway by the agonizing cry.

Ripping the CB radio from her belt, she pressed the device to her lips. "Rick, they're moving off the road!" She relayed frantically.

"I know," He responded. "Trying to redirect Tobin."

Moments later, gunfire erupted from the opposite side of the road, intending to herd the stragglers back toward the highway. It was working—for the most part.

Still, the incessant screams continued. Astrid hurried forward, sprinting toward the source. She vaulted over fallen logs and avoided loose dirt until she spotted Rick hunched over . . . something. Abruptly, the cries of pain ceased, swallowed by the unending buzz of the walkers' moans behind them.

Closing the distance, Astrid reached Rick, her breaths ragged. A shockwave rippled through her as she beheld Carter's now crumbled form sprawled at Rick's feet. His eyes were shut, and there was a bite still gushing gore from his cheekbone, but the telltale wound on the side of his head revealed the real cause of death—a fatal stab. Rick had been the executor, his hands smeared crimson, a bloodied knife dangling from his grasp.

Rick slowly met Astrid's stare, his own breathing labored. Astrid was uncertain whether it was from the shock or the sprint to quell the screams. Before she could utter a word, both Morgan and Michonne materialized at her sides. Their disbelief mirrored Astrid's own, but neither had opinions to voice aloud.

Ignoring the many eyes upon him, Rick scooped up Carter's firearm, and his attention drew back to his CB radio. Back to work it was. "Nice work, Tobin," He commended, stepping easily over the body at his feet. "They're back on the road."

"Copy that," Tobin replied. "What was that screaming?"

"That was Carter," Rick explained. "He got bit right in the face. I stopped him."

"Damn."

Rick lowered the CB once more, and his focus shifted now to the trio at his heels who had yet to voice their thoughts. His gaze settled on Morgan first. "Okay, we have a good hour until this herd reaches the green balloons when we hand them off to Daryl, Sasha, and Abraham," He informed. "Why don't you head back and tell everyone what's happening? They should know."

Morgan nodded. "Okay, Rick, I just—"

He was quickly interrupted by Rick's intrusion into his personal space. "Will you do that for me?" Rick pressed.

Without another word of either protest or confirmation, Rick stormed off to deal with stray walkers, leaving Morgan to reluctantly embark on the trek toward Alexandria alone. This left the two women standing in silence in the bloody clearing. Astrid, swallowing hard, took charge. "I'll lead," She decided. "Michonne, stay back, make sure none drift off again."

Astrid forged ahead, her hand resting on the gun at her waist, eyes oscillating between the lumbering walkers on the road to her left and the shadows cast by the trees on her right. Amidst the gnashing teeth and shuffling corpses, she detected no immediate threats. Harsh footfalls soon echoed behind her, though, signaling none other than Rick's return. His furrowed brow betrayed the anger plaguing his thoughts. Astrid knew immediately that he was thinking of Carter's death. Silently allowing him to match her pace, she waited for the right moment to break the silence.

"I would've done it too," She confessed softly.

Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Astrid sensed Rick's inquisitive stare on her. "What?" He questioned.

"Carter," She clarified. "You did what was necessary. I understand. I would've made the same call."

"You would?"

"Yes. It prevented the herd from breaking up. He was already bitten, anyway. It needed to be done."

Rick exhaled heavily, now eyeing the gun in his grip. It was Carter's. "A man like him . . . doesn't belong in this world," He murmured. "Some just aren't cut out for survival."

"I agree," Astrid acknowledged. "But many out here aren't. How can we be so certain we aren't included in that number?"

"We stand a better chance," Rick insisted. "We know what we're doing."

"No, we don't," She countered. "We just don't scare as easily. Fear is fatal. But so is hostility. And distrust. It's a vicious cycle. Everyone dies eventually, Rick."

A contemplative silence enveloped them, both grappling with such truths. Astrid recognized her brashness, born of stress and unresolved feelings over the fractured friendship between her and Rick. She wondered whether they could ever revert to the people they once were to each other. The old Astrid seemed a relic of the past, a person she doubted existed in this newer world upon dying, only to wake up again.

Their quiet march continued until a new ear-splitting wail sliced overhead. Stopping sharply in her tracks, Astrid turned to Rick in bewilderment. "What the hell?" She demanded. She quickly identified the wail as a car horn—not a mere single beep but an unending, deafening blare echoing through the trees. She whirled around seeking its source, and in a futile attempt to muffle the noise, she instinctively covered her ears, yet the clamor persisted, seemingly threatening to rupture her eardrums. Or maybe that was just her pounding heart.

Michonne came sprinting toward them. "What's happening?"

"It's a horn!" Glenn exclaimed, rushing in with Heath and others. "Damn it! It's pulling the back half of the herd off the road!"

Glancing back to the undead just beyond the tree line, Astrid's fears were confirmed. More than three-quarters of the herd had already begun to veer off the highway once more, converging toward the survivors with outstretched arms and snapping jaws.

"No!" Astrid choked out, her steps faltering as the advancing walkers drew closer. "No, no, no!"

Michonne wielded her katana high. "It's distant," She hurriedly conveyed. "But it's there. It's enough."

"It sounds like it's coming from—"

"Home," Astrid whispered.

Oh, God.

Astrid's thoughts went immediately to Bailey. Was she safe? Why was a horn blaring in Alexandria? This was not part of the plan. It was a reckless move that risked attracting not just the walkers from this herd, but every undead within miles of their safe zone.

In only seconds, the back half of the herd had completely diverted from the road, plunging into the forest. Rick grabbed Astrid's arm and yanked her backward. "Come on!" He yelled. "Run!"

One by one, the group scattered into the deeper woods, seeking the way back home while trying to maintain a safe distance from the following horde. Astrid, now racing alongside Rick, fumbled for her CB, until the man beside her intervened, yanking her attention away.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"I have to warn Daryl and the others!" Astrid protested.

"No! You heard Glenn. Half of the herd is still following them. If they stop, the front half will round back."

"But they have to know the plan has gone to shit! That we're not with them anymore!"

"Not now!" Rick snarled back, and his tone brooked no argument. "We need to put more distance between us and them!"

Despite Rick's warnings, the CB remained clutched tightly in Astrid's hand. Within an instant, she made her choice. She defied his orders and pressed the device to her lips.

"Daryl?" She called breathlessly.

Amidst the static crackling through the device, the crunching of leaves beneath her feet, and the menacing growls trailing behind, she clung to hope, her ear straining for any response. For a moment, fresh worry threatened to consume her all over again as she braced for the bleak, but very real, possibility of silence from the other end of the line. But then, a familiar voice cut through.

"I'm here, Astrid," Daryl confirmed.

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. Her chest constricted with pain—from fighting, fleeing, and the frustrated sob that clawed at her throat. With every step that she climbed, she could feel Rick's penetrating glare upon her now, yet her focus remained fixed on the path ahead. Forcing herself to compose, to calm down, she raised the CB to her lips once more. And then she made another choice.

"I love you," Astrid whispered, her words a hurried rush. That was all she said.

Without waiting for a reply from her husband, Astrid stowed the CB back at her waistband and redirected every ounce of her being to survival. Fear slowly began to creep in. What lay ahead if the horn indeed was coming from home? What if home was no longer an option? Caught between the potential danger ahead and the undead pursuit behind, they were truly caught between a rock and a hard place.

And all Astrid could do was run.

~~~~~~~~~~